Fantasy Fading Flame (In Character)

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl @& Terra

PRIOR TO TIMESKIP:

Terra took the knight's proffered hand, eliciting a triumphant "Yes!" from Pryonn. Keeping a gentle grip, his other hand rammed the butt of the flag-lance into the ground with an audible 'THUNK'. His second grasp thus freed, the knight sank to his knees, both palms carefully clasping the leonine maiden's hand against his helmeted forehead as he chastely directed his gaze upon the ground in silent prayer.

The moment lasted for a minute before the knight rose again, retrieving his banner-lance. Walking hand in hand with Terra, the knight jovially strolled towards the cave, humming a merry tune as the entry's gaping dark loomed. "Lo and behold, yearning gloom! Lady-light and virgin-knight are come to challenge you!" he roared with mirth into the cave as Kaatl snapped her fingers, casting an orb of light to illuminate their path.

The luminescence quickly guided them through the small stone-cavern, the stench of its former owner still clinging to the walls. Their inquisitive gazes found little in the ways of threatening foes, the knight's joyous ardor becoming tempered when they instead only found a small grave, a wooden rood serving as nameless headstone and marking it with somber minuteness. A cursory scan revealed a tarnished locket, the corroded thing containing a timepiece robbed of hands. A clock devoid of function, bearing faded letters stating 'E.R. - Time is fleeting'.

Curious, perhaps, but the knight refrained from scavenging the trinket, for doing so would surely have befouled the grave. Finding nothing else of further note, the trio left the cave again, puzzled by what they had found inside.

 

[Vyseryx]

Margot, before timeskip
Something woke her up abruptly, confusing Margot, as sorceress didn’t recall going to sleep. She looked around with her careful eyes, but the camp presented her with picture of calmness and silence. Guardians were sleeping in their tents, few that had the watch were whispering with each other, but they didn’t seem distraught in anyway.

Quietly, the sorceress raised from her place next to the bonfire, where she had fallen asleep after eating roasted doe, what under the field conditions tasted like a superb meal. She looked around herself again, this time checking if anybody was observing her, and muttered under her nose:

“Where?”

Margot let her senses reach outside of her body, as she closed her eyes and started listening to the gentle shimmering of magic. It flew in the earth under her feet, in the air around her head and in the trees of forest. Trees…

Sorceress’s eyes opened as he looked at the point in space far too far to see it. Something was wrong with the aura coming from that place. Something disturbed the calmness of wood there, something dark, but not demonic; something dark, but not Dark. Something human.

Margot grabbed her staff and quickly left the camp, following the trail of disturbance. To remain stealthy, she didn’t use any light, and she quickly regretted that.

‘It’s no use,’ she thought, after stumbling for the third time. The sorceress quickly looked behind – the camp and its light were already gone. ‘Good.’

She reached her hand above head and looked at the Moon between her fingers.

“O, Mirror of Lifegiver,” she chanted, drawing circle with her palm, as if she was stirring the surface of the bright disk far in the sky. “May your light become mine.”

Magic gathered around Margot, as moonlight bent around her fingers, enveloping it as the most delicate of threads. She moved her hand, as if polishing the sky with this gesture, and a single silver droplet gathered at her finger, shining with the unearthly light. The sorceress closed palm to her face and touched the liquid with her tongue.

A wave of magic hit her head like a hammer, and her eyes dried instantly. Tearing up, Margot blinked a few times, both from pain and a bright light that suddenly blinded her. It took her a few minutes of standstill to shake out, but when she opened her eyes again Moon had become as bright as Sun, turning night into day for sorceress.

Margot started walking again, this time faster but also more silent. The first thing to hit her was the smell – metallic and heavy, bringing the worst feelings in her. The scent of spilled blood. The sorceress stopped and crouched, as she scanned the forest ahead of her looking for the slightest sign of danger. When she did not find any, she started moving closer to the clearing, that was showing through between the trees.

What she had stepped into was definitely a battle scene. Or at least had been, very recently. Broken branches, churned earth where the fighters took their stances and blood, much of it, in some places fresh enough to still reflect the moonlight. Those things seemed normal to Margot, who had seen many aftermaths of fights in her life, but there was more. Three graves, and a note above pinned on the tree close to them. Sorceress’s brows were raising higher and higher as she was reading it:

‘Here lies Sashi, Sergeant Boar and Corporal Reverend.
Fifty-Ninth Pathfinder Legion, Ninth Group, Detachment Edela.
Killed in Action against Darkborne forces.’
​

‘Who wrote this?’ Margot took a step back, and looked around carefully, as if she expected someone to be watching her. ‘A Guardian? No. They would report back to Jericho and we would be searching forest right now. A local? No, they wouldn’t know their names, let alone how detachment was called. And…’

The sorceress scanned the clearing, her eyes analysing every detail of the scenery. The investigator she once was had resurfaced. Her mind worked on overdrive, as she was processing the details and trying to make the sense out of what was before her. She moved closer to the strange marks on the ground.

‘Traces of something inhuman.’ Margot went over the weird footprints on earth. ‘But I do not sense any Darkborne. Enough traces only for a singleton. One creature powerful enough to wipe them all out?’

This was a terrifying thought but Margot forced herself to calm down and rethink.

‘No, it doesn’t make sense. It would probably attack the camp too, if it was so powerful. Unless… it’s still here…’

The last thought was silent, even in her head. She stood and listened to the woods and its magic for almost a quarter, before she managed to convince herself that she was safe. To calm her nerves, Margot quickly dusted off standard investigation procedures, she had learnt back at her Enforcer training. The sorceress reached to her bag quickly and took out a book with violet cover, the same colour as her eyes. She flicked her fingers and it hovered in air, flipping through its pages, until it opened on the paragraph Margot was looking for. The mage put her finger to the page and let magic through her as she chanted:

“Streams of life, spilled violently. Show yourselves to me, tell me the story of veins that carried you!”

A wave of warm magic spread around the clearing, and all traces of blood started glowing. The light was pale, but it was too bright for Margot’s oversensitive eyes, and she had to squint her them, before they accommodated to the new source of light. When she could see normally again, her head practically spun around her neck as sorceress started noticing the droplets of blood previously hidden before her. The spell coloured each blood slightly different, depending on many factors and Margot’s eyes, darted between stains and quickly categorized them.

‘Three people… no… four… Three?’

Margot was confused. Some samples, notably gathered around the inhuman traces, bore the similarity to the other blood, the one that was the least present in the mix. They were weird, as if contaminated by something.

‘Transformation magic? That would explain it, but who and how? Druid?’

Margot looked around some more. A branch, covered in blood (‘Somebody must have been stuck on it’), and a magic-hardened blood in the ground. The latter confused her even more.

“Blood magic, transformation magic, no trace of Darkborne, not even a single drop of their blood. What the hell had happened here?” Margot murmured as she turned in the direction of graves.

She closed to them, already feeling terrible about what she was about to do. The sorceress raised her hands and hesitated, but with a shake of head she got the doubts out of their head.

“I am very sorry, but I have no choice,” she said to the dead and herself, as she flicked her fingers. Three graves erupted with grovel and earth as sorceress’s forced their contents to fly into the air. She expected the corpses floating in the air, looking into her eyes with their empty, dead stares, but instead she just saw more and more dirt coming from the holes she had just made. Or maybe this wasn’t only dirt?

Margot came closer to the floating mass and took a good look at it. A fertile chernozem, some sand, leaf litter and… something grey.

‘Ash?’ she crumbled a clump of earth in her palms, smearing it over her fingers. ‘Somebody burnt corpses before burying them? Why the fuck…?’

The sorceress’s head started aching from all the questions that gathered in there, and to make it all worse, the morning was coming already. She spread her hands and with a series of gestures, Margot forced dust from all three graves to fly to her. Sorceress quickly sealed it in big leaves she picked from the trees and put it into her bag.

After she put the earth back to graves and said a short apologetic prayers above each of them, sorceress quickly made her way back to camp. She found the Guardians on watch and told them about what she had found, albeit keeping many details to herself.

Soon the bad news was known to all of the people present in the camp.

Margot, present day

Calling this place an outpost was a stretch. It rather resembled a little fortress and Margot was glad to see a place this well maintained in the middle of Darkwoods. It was a perfect location to retreat to, if their mission was to go south. That being said, the crew didn’t make the best first impression, especially the brat that called her ‘wench’, though he was quickly put back on his place by Jericho’s litany of titles.

The sorceress listened to the list of objectives they had to deal with, and she was quickly analysing each of them. She would prefer to focus on Darkborne and just push through into the forest, leaving the maintenance of outpost to its residents. But the group seemed hellbent to deal with all three objectives. Margot saw as many Guardians assigned themselves to tasks, and frowned a little. Normally she would rather deal with the artillery, but moving together with Audun would probably be an overkill, as Buras who already volunteered to accompany angel seemed very capable too. Hunting animals was not up to sorceress’s tastes either, so that left one option open.

“I am leaning towards prospecting the ruins, Audaton,” Margot said, making sure that Taryn hears her. “It may have some magical protection, so it’s most likely to require my expertise.”




Later that day, Margot found a silent place in the outpost, away from the unwanted looks and took out the ashes she drew from the three graves. Throughout their travel to this place, she had examined them, but there was only this much she could do on the horse’s back, without arousing suspicion among others.

Now, with a moment of free time, she had quickly put the samples in two groups and started moving her hands above them, muttering spells silently. Every bit of analysis she did, every next spell casted, every sample examined were confirming her theory. Three graves held remains of only two creatures – and neither of them seemed to be Sashi.

A conclusion that led to was a weird one – those three fought for a reason Margot could not figure out, the druid had won and feigned her own death by leaving an additional grave. This theory, while it answered some questions, brought up the biggest ‘why’ the sorceress had had up to that time. Why would Sashi do this? What would bring her to fake her demise and leave Guardians like that, in the middle of the mission?

Margot closed her eyes and tried to recall every single piece of information she had about the druid, in retrospect realising she had known very little about her. The sorceress almost gruntled irritated. She could have asked more questions – Sashi was one of the more mysterious members of the team. Granted, druid would probably not tell about anything she didn’t feel like, but sorceress could have at least tried.

An image of Sashi appeared before Margot, as she summoned every detail of druid’s face from her memory. She focused on it so much she almost was seeing it on the insides of her eyelids. She also remembered their meeting in the Elbe Forest, back then, when Sashi was much younger… and the feeling of familiarity sorceress had back then.

Margot opened her eyes intrigued and started walking in circle thinking intensely. She had forgotten about that, but the first time she had met Sashi, she felt as if she had seen her before. But where? When?

And then the sorceress suddenly remembered. Samo. The capitol of Sarmania. Almost two decades ago. Back then, Margot was introduced to the ruling king, Nikolai II, his wife and court. And there were also four kids – two princes and two princesses, who were also present there. Margot didn’t care about them back then. They were only children and sorceress’s visit was a formality she didn’t want to partake in. But the images returned to her – the face of little girl, that gazed at sorceress curiously and looked away seeing Margot’s cold stare.

‘Is this possible?’ Margot found herself standing still and looking stupidly into the wall. ‘Is it possible that I met a long dead heir to the Sarmanian throne in this forest? Who now killed two people and faked her death…’

Faked her death. Margot inhaled sharply. If this really was Sashina Sarmanov, then that wouldn’t be the first time.

‘Blood magic? They say Sarmanovs are connected to vampires. Transformation magic…? Serafina… Serafina reportedly works on some high-end biomagic.’ Pieces of the riddle quickly fall into their places and suddenly Margot was presented with a very clear picture.

‘Somebody found her? She was hiding among Guardians but somebody found her and she was forced to eliminate witnesses. But if that’s true… then Serafina will soon know…’

Margot hesitated, but only for a second and took out a notebook from her bag. She quickly opened it and started writing down what she had discovered in cypher that only few people could read. When she was done, the sorceress tore the page away and blew at it. Piece of paper fluttered, and turned into a ghastly raven, which flew out of the outpost and dashed towards the Frontierville carrying in it a message, that could turn the tides of history.

The Arcanist Tower of Ratthe; few days later

An Incruscan and human woman were sitting far above the ground, at the highest balcony of Tower, the area aptly called Archmages’ Terrace. Between them stood a magnificent, hexagonal table, made out of expensive, dark wood. Marble tiles decorated the surface, creating the board for the game called Hex. Three sets of playing pieces were spread on it, all made of precious gemstones, carved with such an attention to details, that even the most bourgeois of players would be satisfied.

Celesta van Huygens looked at the table and carefully planned her next move. Even though she had almost twice as much pieces as her opponent, she was not at an advantage. The Incruscan reached her hand hesitantly, painfully aware of the sharp look of bright green eyes following her every gesture. Finally, she moved two pawns in quick succession and sunk back into her armchair expecting only the worst.

Without a word, or even the slightest change on her face, Fey la Graff sent one of her bishops into a suicidal mission between Celesta’s pawns and Incruscan’s queen landed outside of the board.

“Check,” Fey said silently, and Celesta groaned frustrated.

“How?” Incruscan covered her face and rubbed it, almost ruining her make-up. “How are you doing this? I’d swear that bishop wasn’t there a second ago!”

“He begs to differ,” Fey allowed her lips to curve into something one could consider a smile. “I need two moves to finish you. Shall we start the new one?”

“No.” Celesta’s hurt pride would never allow that. She straightened on the armchair and looked at the board carefully, looking for the way out of her rather hopeless situation. “If I am to lose, I will at least…”

A gentle knocking interrupted mage. Three pair of eyes focused on the door to the Terrace.

“Enter,” Lazareth commanded. Up to this time, she had been reading a book in silence, as she sat on the railing of the balcony, risking few hundred meters worth of fall were she to lose her balance.

The door opened and a boy, who couldn’t yet even be twenty years old entered the balcony. He was a dog Incruscan wearing a uniform of Red Ribbon and his poise was flawless, as one would expect from Archmages’ servant.

“Good day to you, mademoiselles,” he said respectfully, with voice barely above the whisper, reaching out the hand with a simple piece of paper. “A message for you had arrived.”

Before he even finished talking, the sheet was snatched from his fingers unceremoniously by an invisible hand and flew to the silver-haired Archmage.

“You can go,” Lazareth dismissed him, as she caught the piece of paper. She didn’t like the boy, but Fey found him ‘competent’ and Celesta ‘cute’ so there he was – the first mortal in forty years that could enter the highest floors of Tower without being turned into ash. Without a trace of emotion on his face he took his leave and disappeared from the Terrace.

“Thanking doesn’t hurt, Laz,” Fey said critically, in almost a mother-scolding-child tone. In return, she earned a murderous stare from Lazareth, who was nearly twice as old as la Graff was.

Celesta used that moment of distraction and managed to capture one of Fey’s knights. Lazareth meanwhile looked at the piece of paper she got. Her brows raised, when she recognised the writing belonging to Margot Lagarde, the mage she had basically exiled two years ago. She was supposed to send back regular reports, but she ignored that chore, as any respectable sorceress would. What meant the note was probably holding something important in it.

“You can talk to me. Once, and only once,” Lazareth chanted and the piece of paper moved and folded magically into a spectral raven. She raised it on the level of her head and looked into its eyes. They suddenly grew larger and Archmage fell into their depths. A sudden stream of information filled her head; images, sounds and words, transcribed into spell by Lagarde.

The Grand Arcanist spent almost a minute motionlessly, before shook her head, to clear it from the remains of a magical trans. As her consciousness returned to Tower, she realized two pair of eyes were watching her impatiently.

“Was that from Margot?” Fey asked indifferently.

Lazareth considered lying for a brief moment, but that would probably not work against her fellow Archmages, so she just replied shortly: “Yes.”

“And?” Celesta was openly impatient. Out of all three women in the room she was the one to dislike Lagarde the most, and she didn’t mind the fact that the raven-haired woman had effectively disappeared from her life for two years.

“She says, she might have met…” Lazareth started and an uncontrollable smile bloomed on her face.

“Who?” Celesta asked impatiently, her cat ears twitching. In response, Lazareth waved her hand and two magenta bubbles flew through the room. As they popped on the foreheads of two other Archmages, Margot’s report was instantly implemented into their minds. Incruscan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sashina Sarmanov?”

“The probability that it was her does not even reach double digits,” Fey said calmly, though her eyes betrayed her with a pale glow of interest. “But…”

“But if it’s really her, then it’s an incredibly important news!” Celesta interrupted her. Her eyes widened and she poked her chin with fingers. “And if somebody tried to assassinate her then…”

“Tsarina will shortly know about that.” Fey finished other woman’s sentence. “We may already be behind in this game.”

“And we don’t even know yet, if there is a game at all.” Lazareth closed her eyes. An expression of complete concentration appeared on her face, as she was thinking intensely about something. When she finally looked at her comrades again, her eyes were filled with determination. “If it’s a mistake, then we could make fools of ourselves. But if it’s not… If it’s not, then each hour counts.”

Two other Archmages nodded their heads only.

“I’m glad we are in agreement.” Lazareth spoke softly, as Fey rose from her chair. Her enormous silhouette filled the terrace instantly, making it seem half its true size. The redhaired Archmage moved her hand and her dress melted, replaced with a practical leather outfit, well suited for long travels.

“I will go to Frontierville and try to figure out if it was really her,” Fey said, as a magical circle started forming under her feet. “I will inform you if I manage to determine something.”

“If you happen to find Sarmanov, avoid contact until I say otherwise,” the Grand Arcanist commanded, and Fey saluted nonchalantly, before her spell activated and she disappeared in the burst of green flames. Lazareth turned to Celesta. “Contact our spies in Samo. Tell them to be extremely careful. If I know Tsarina’s temper, they will have a small armageddon over there soon.”

“Aye, aye,” van Huygens said with a serious tone and jumped over the railing into the air. With a single word, she turned into a bright comet and flew down the Tower, towards the Royal Palace.

When Lazareth was left alone, she stood on the balcony in silence. One could think she is taking the rumour too seriously, but her long life taught her, that true coincidences were rarity. Bloodbending druid roaming the Darkwoods, with looks and age of the Sashina Sarmanov, who was said to be dead, but whose body was never found?

That was a little bit too much. Lazareth’s mind was working on an overdrive, an outline of strategy already formed in her head. Two magenta eyes glowed with an unearthly light as Archmage looked to the North, her gaze so intense as if she wanted to tear the hole in horizon with it and reach far beyond, where the city of Samo lied.

“Well, Iron Mistress,” the Grand Arcanist whispered, reaching her hand before her. The paper raven, that was still sitting on her palm suddenly burst in flames and Lazareth clenched her fingers, turning it into a pile of ash. “It looks like you are on a borrowed time. You, and your precious kingdom.”


Kabboom Trappy Pilgrim59 , @anybodyReally

 

[SCSaya06]

"Looks like you'll be at home right here won't you Erik?" Hildegarde calls out to her collaborator as she finishes unloading the cargo assigned to their guards unit. The young man was plying the fortress ramparts, seemingly keeping watch over the thick foliage below lest something managed to stalk their group.

"Aye. This is a good stop." Erik affirmed as he walks back to his consort, helping her with a rather heavy crate. Once that was set down to its proper position, Hildegarde limped a little off to the side and sat down on the small scraps of hay she spotted scattered around. Seeing this, Erik stooped down to check the wound sustained from the previous fight.

"Still bad?" Erik asked as he gently tends to a rather deep gash on her ankle.

"Not too bad. Time I ate a bad apple was even worse...ack!" The young woman grunted as Erik got to work bandaging her leg with some herbs he found lying around in her rucksack. "It's part of the job I suppose. Unlike yours where you just shoot from far away."

"Think of it this way--" Erik chuckled as he finishes up. "At least--you get to count your confirmed kills and no one doubts you. Better pay too." Turning to the wall as he finishes up, Erik espies a familiar contraption sitting on top of the rampart. A wooden contraption resembling a large crossbow.

"Think you can operate that when those monsters come pouring in?" Hildegarde asked.

"Maybe. I've operated a ballista once. Can't say it actually helped much." Erik just sighed as he sat down beside his injured friend. Hildegarde rests her head on his shoulders, feeling a little drowsy.

"Hey, don't sleep now. You'll get yelled at."

"And why? We finished unloading the cargo didn't we? Wait--I mean, 'I' did."

"Cheeky bastard." Erik sighed. "That Guardian guy mentioned something about treasure lying in the ruins. They'll probably form a team to investigate it and raid it."

"Sounds interesting, will you go?"

"And share the treasure with you when we find it? No chance."

"Hehe...cut me some slack. I'm not exactly in the best condition to go spelunking right now." Hildegarde chuckled.

"Clearly. Well, let's just stay behind for now." Erik sighs again, hanging his head back pensively. "I'm an archer. I don't think I'll do well fighting in those ruins. And I...I'd rather not head in there without you watching my back." Erik nearly stammers at the last part. He hadn't been quite sure how to express that in his own words yet. Surprisingly, he got no response nor retort from her. Hildegarde had already fallen asleep.

"Bastard." Erik chuckled. "Well, at least I'll get a chance to say it again. Properly, I hope."

(OOC: Sorry for being gone a long while, hope I'm still welcome. XD)

 

[CrowOuttaHell]

Gaheris Agramar

The night went on long enough. Gaheris barely remembered where and when he had fallen asleep- only that he had chewed through the rest of the Serpent flesh and the potato gifted to him. And then, the next day, someone was gone.

Thankfully none of his unit seemed damaged. Karl and Lyle had given up on the Serpent meat and had resigned themselves to eating bread, collapsed in their tents.

The breeze touched his cheek when he awoke, though it didn't bother him too much. How much time had he spent sleeping on the streets or in the trees, with those thick branches that could- miraculously enough- hold his weight?

The group was already in full swing when Karl and Lyle had dragged him back to wakefulness.

"Not a good time to oversleep Agramar," Lyle had stated with a scowl, motioning with his head to a few...shiny looking figures. "Heavens know that they'd have your head cut off if they see you sleeping on the job."

"Not...on..."

"Shhh!" Karl quickly quieted him down. "You're a free man to us but not to them."

Gaheris swallowed his words, the words "free man" echoing in his head. Was he really free? Was freedom decided by others?

Nevertheless, he got up, dusted himself off, and moved just in time to hear the barking, rough command. "You there, Giant. How dare you stand idly at this? Move and bring the crates in, you damned beast!"

He moved before he could even realize it. He had scarcely picked up a crate when he heard Audaton yelling back at the one that had commanded him- though Gaheris had been used to the sting of words flung usually at Giants, he couldn't help but smile under his visor.

Good to see some people were still willing to stand up for abusive speech. Even if Audaton was addressing the fact that the man had been barking at the entire group, not just him.

"Somehow, I've a feeling you're smiling," Karl chuckled as he looked up at his much, much taller companion. Lyle scoffed, shaking his head as the two strove to carry a large-looking crate. "I don't know what you could be smiling about," He grunted. "This early and we've already gotten yelled at."

"Today," Gaheris breathed, effortlessly hoisting up a heavy crate. "...might be...interesting."

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

Leafa excitedly followed the elf-woman; whose named was revealed to be Skyler; as they separated from the group. After walking for quite a bit, both of the elves stopped at a large-sized rock, Skyler hopped on it and turned to the elf, as laid-back as ever, and gave her the chance to talk. Skyler always seemed so confident, from what Leafa had heard, she wasn't particularly welcomed by the army, neither was she treated well by the most part, yet she always saw her with her head held up high, unshaken and ready for anything, it was one of the things the young elf admired about the woman. Leafa sat down on the grass and faced Skyler with a smile.

"Tricks are too confusing for me, I just forget them after a while, winging it is way more fun, hehe. ... But I wouldn't mind a secure catch right now... I am sooooo hungry! Oh! Pip and Ko should be hungry too by now..."

She proceeded to grab one of the many leaves mixed in with the grass, which most likely fell from a nearby tree, and gave it to Pip. "Mice eat leaves right? Eh, probably." After feeding the mouse, she shifted her attention to the butterfly. The polen from the flower in her hair had certainly been completely drained, it was more than time to get a new one. "Hey... uhm... Skyla! That was it! So, if you find a very very beautiful flower, please give it to me! This one is kinda three days ago, or something, lost track. Also, Ko needs a new source of food! ... Wait, is "source" a word? But anywhos, don't forget, if you find a pretty flower give it to me please!"

RubyZoo

 

[RubyZoo]

Skyler laughed as Leafa told her about winging it. "Ok then, let's just go an hunt" she suggested, still resting on the rock. She saw Leafa interact with a mice and butterfly. "If I find a beautiful flower, the most beautiful one ever, I will be sure to save it for you." she said smiling, getting up. "Know come on. We got some hunting to do" she said, starting to run off in the direction the stags were. She soon saw them grazing and hid behind a tree, signaling Leafa to do the same. She peered out slightly, pointed her arrow toward one of the stags. Letting go, she saw the arrow fly, lading on the Stag's side where it's heart should be. It fell and all the other stags went crazy. "You want to try a moving target?" she asked, holding out her bow and an arrow to Leafa.

-robert-

 

[hostage]

ESTA FAEVEN

A figure wound between tightly packed trees, shadows cloaking it's shape. A dagger was slightly visible in the hand of the apparition. The Runner ahead of the shadow looked around, unaware of its silent stalker. Suddenly, with a thump, the dagger sprouted from the Runner's spine, and the beast crumpled to the ground with a high pitched whine. Esta pulled back the hood of her cloak, a frown on her face. Her dagger had missed the point she had aimed at. A couple of centimeters off. She would have to do better next time. If there even was a next time. She looked up, seeing the massive castle stronghold sprawling out before her just off of the treeline. The Guardians were there.

She hung her tattered swan feather cloak on a limb of a pine tree, then leaned against the trunk. Her icy eyes were locked in on the fortress as she planned out her next move. The company of Guardians would not welcome her kindly, she thought. Her absence was a long one. Primal instincts had urged the Incruscan into the wild. Part of the lack of control was due to her shedding, which had begun soon before the Guardians had left Frontierville. As Esta succumbed to the snake part of her, the group had battled monsters and become heroes. She was angry that she could not force down her urges. But that could not be taken back. As soon as she came to her senses, she had followed the trail of the Guardians, stopping here, at the stronghold. She pondered over what to do.. who to speak to first. After a moment, a name came to mind. Jericho.

Yes, the Commander, the Light-Bringer. He would find a place for her, or at the very least hear her out. As she thought about Jericho, the other Guardians resurfaced in her memory. The raging bitch, Maria, whom she had not forgiven, the new Incruscan, Todd? She had taken a fancy in him. The young elf girl, the mage, and the giant who had knocked her sprawling on the first day were not ones she had thought much about, but now she wondered what they would think. While they had been through so much, Esta would waltz in with bright clean scales and an clean mind. Esta shook her head, forcing the thoughts from her mind. She would contact Jericho, and that was it.

Closing her eyes, Esta thrust out a hand. "Islingr lif," she murmured. She felt her mind separate from her body as she brushed her consciousness with the ones around the stronghold. When she felt Jericho's mind, she pushed against it a little bit while calling his name, pushing her summons into the force around him. After that, she quickly described her situation in a series of images and senses, asking for him to meet her where she was. She conveyed her position through an image of the pine tree and the sight of the fortress before her. Now she just needed him to establish a connection with her mind as to receive the information.

Mentions: Kabboom

​

 

[Trappy]

Hearthfall Season - Morning
Maria
The Outpost, Darkwoods​

• Maria
• Cornelius
• Interacted / Mentioned

• 
  
  The sight of the forest outpost sparked reminiscence in the guardian's thoughts, filling her heart with various emotions, each difficult to explain. Walls and gates reveal themselves just past the thick leaves and branches of colossal pine trees that make up most of the Darkwoods, standing strong and full of pride on the highpoint. Their structures reinforced with improvised barricades, scarred with signs of savage battles, all manned by exhausted, but battle-hardened guardsmen - the valiant bulwark that continues to guard the Empire and the Light from fiends of various horrors and forms. Maria had spent most of her life before her becoming a Guardian in borderland installations and barracks such as these, be it on royal visits, running away from home to her elder brothers on their ambitious campaigns or punishment, issued by His Majesty the King for her disobedience. But they are all stories of a time long, long past now.
  
  Upon disembarking, their first task was to unload the cargo. The steep steps and the geographical location of the outpost means all of the crates had to be unloaded manually and carried into the outpost. Thankfully, Maria's abilities helped greatly in this regard. The guardian simply lifted her hands and the crates flew themselves to organised piles without much complication, like a conductor commanding a ceremonial band. Maria was hard at work, seemingly oblivious to a certain pompous individual who was getting ahead of himself. However, the guardian had observed much of the outpost, including the general reactions of the garrison troops to this figure's attitude. She'd seen for herself that commanding officers who gains resentment from their troops are likely to fall by the hands of their own subordinates in battles than to the enemies or other dangers they may face. And with the increased Darkborne activities in the area and the remote location of this outpost, that bossy figure really should be watching himself.
  
  When the pompous (presumably) outpost commander turned to the group and started yelling at them, he was quickly addressed by their commander, Jericho Audaton, and quickly retreated like a house cat.
  
  "House cat leading lions, huh . . ." Maria thought to herself. Such leadership will surely lead to nothing but issues, especially here, where each guardsmen need to perform at optimal levels and be able to function as a combat unit effectively. But she decided to stop herself from jumping to conclusions, for after all, she had not seen the outpost's garrison in combat first hand.
  
  The outpost had no shortage of problems to address, as commander Audaton returned to the company after a visit to the outpost lieutenant with a list of jobs needed taken care of. Maria waited to see volunteers and what they were going for. The Darkborne artillery barrages are a serious threat that could deal devastating damage to the outpost if they could set up and adjust to the proper aim, unless something is done. She was confident with the forces that volunteered to eliminate the artillery threats, most notably Audun the Paladin, a fearsome and powerful ally as demonstrated in the fight for Frontierville, albeit a Seraph filled to the brim with pride and arrogance, like the rest of his dying race. The elemental continued to display her impressive physical prowess, and the Inuin proved his worth with his unique art with the blades. Maria had not seen what the new face had to offer, and she doubted if the man was trustworthy enough for such a task, but he had to start somewhere, so might as well.
  
  "I will go to the ruins." The guardian announced to her commander. "Unless you require my presence elsewhere."
  
  
• 
  The last few crates were finally unloaded down to neatly organised piles for inspection by outpost sergeants. Cornelius joined his mates against a wall, well-protected from the relentless strong wind. The guardsman had noticed Maria, who used her abilities to easily lift crates at once with ease. The man chuckled as he admired her work and felt a bit envious of such a gift deep down. He never had the chance to meet up with her after the battle, despite his promise. I'll have to apologise to her later. - Cornelius made sure he remembers to do so, but he had a feeling she would understand. It is expected of a legionnaire to put his duties first, as part of an active combat unit, the rest is secondary.
  
  At that moment, a group of garrison troops, who all seemed as if they'd spent the better part of a week inside a rotting Serpent carcass, stepped down from the walls behind him, seemingly heading off from a change of shift. Cornelius raised his head up to look at them, his almost-pristine sallet shaking slightly from the movement, garnering the attention of the veterans. They looked down, pausing their lax conversation, and gazed their empty eyes upon Cornelius and his comrades. The Regalian-born trooper gave them a nod.
  "Pleasure to see ya fellas."
  "Oh shit, it's one of the new ones. Don't get blown away by the wind~" One of the veterans joked.
  "Oh, and watch out for Lieutenant Finn. Dun do any bad around 'im." Another one broke into a guffaw.
  
  The rest of the garrison troops erupted into laughter, leaving the fresh men to awkwardly smile from below the staircase. When the veterans have departed, one of the guardsmen spoke up.
  "Well these stories about Lieutenant Finn are probably all bullshit anyways."
  
  "What stories?" Intrigued, Cornelius asked the fellow guardsman.
  
  "I only heard them from some of the garrison folks. Apparently the Lieutenant killed 5 deserters, on his own, with a water canteen."
  
  "Come on. Chug chug, a water canteen? Ya gotta be kidding me. I can barely kill a rat with the thing, even if I smash it real hard with a water canteen, and you're telling me - five grown-ass has-been Imperial guardsmen got killed by a water canteen?" Another guardsman scoffed.
  
  "I'm not kidding. Or maybe we should go ask the guy."
  
  Silence befell the group yet again. As ridiculous as it sounded for them, the guardsmen felt a cold, sinister feeling around this Lieutenant Finn. Just gut-feeling, and none of them could really explain the reason behind it. Cornelius stood there, his mind busy trying to visualise the infamous Lieutenant, while nervously take a drink from his own water canteen, when a hand suddenly hit him from the back of his head, spilling some of his water and a laugh followed.
  "Come on Reggie, why the pale face? Aren't you falling head over heels in love with your genocidal Iron Lady? How's this Lieutenant draining the Light from the valiant Legionnaire's face?"
  Laughs and chuckles again filled the group, as conversations continued.
  If only they knew what happened.
  
• 
  Interacted: Kabboom
  Mentioned: QizPizza Soviet Panda Sybil U UnbelievableCow
  

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

As those in the courtyard began to break up by task, a new arrival made a rather unmistakable entrance.

Aymeline had been working outside the outpost, digging massive trench lines and clearing back any foliage thick enough to hide the Darkborne. In the weeks she'd been here, the Giant had rarely been troubled outside the walls perhaps because there was little in her to draw the Dark...and much to repel it. Clearing back the forest increased line of sight, improving early detection for the defenders as well as giving the archers a clearer field of fire for the next assault. And there was always another assault. When the outpost was sieged, Aymeline knelt on the battlements and swept back anything bold enough to crawl up the walls with her enormous warhammer. At the moment, though, the White Warcry was in Pickaxe configuration for she'd just finished tearing up another trench line to break up the ability for Darkborne to charge.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, the Giant returned to the walls and noted the arrival of a wagon train. Craning her neck, Aymeline's ears caught the tail-end of Commander Jericho's detail of orders in the courtyard and she couldn't help but grin. With the forces on hand, the outpost had been in a holding action. Relief meant the prospect of real change in the horrific status quo.

Like the wagons, the Giant found the door too difficult to fit through. So, instead, she made her usual entrance. Aymeline stepped up to the doorway, stretched up one arm and caught the edge of the second-story battlement. The Giant then pulled herself up onto the walls before hopping off of them to land in the courtyard. For the soldiers who'd been stationed here, this was nothing new. But there was nothing subtle about a woman nearly ten feet tall and weighing in at half a ton dropping from above into the courtyard of assembled warriors and Guardians.

Giant she was but Aymeline otherwise bore little resemblance to the breed. She lacked the craggy features, tendency to fur and the brutish build of her species, instead bearing an otherwise athletically slender profile. Instead of furs, she wore yards and yards worth of shiny, gleaming chainmail swathed with pink and white fabric for comfort and, frankly, fashion. Her pink hair framed a fairly appealing face and the Giant's red eyes were the color of fine wine, warming further as she smiled at the newest arrivals to the outpost.

With a flick of her thumb, the White Warcry went through the unmistakable transformative motions of a Guard Weapon, shifting from its pickaxe configuration to the steel-and-white-jade warhammer head. Then she dropped it headfirst to thud heavily into the courtyard stones and she bent over it, resting her palms on the haft of the handle while she spotted out the likely Guardians here.

"It looks like you already have a good sized force for tackling the artillery that's been pestering us for weeks. Thank you. It's not a job I could have done alone. Why don't I join up with those intending to search the ruins? I've probably come the closest to it, though actually entering the place would have required fighting enough Darkborne to be a hazard for any Guardian alone. Even one big enough for two." Aymeline's voice was surprisingly high pitched and light, not much louder than a normal sized woman, though that was mostly because she made an effort to keep the volume down. Her speech was remarkably articulate for a Giant, and it bore the unmistakable accent of Wave's Keep for those with an ear for it.

"Well met, my new friends," Aymeline said, beaming at the Guardians in the process of organizing themselves for the ruins expedition. "Call me Aymeline."

OOC: Presumably she's addressing Taryn, Pat Faber, Margot and Maria? Midrick QizPizza Trappy Vyseryx

 

[Kabboom]

Jericho

One by one, the volunteers stepped up. The stone-paved courtyard was booming with activity and planning, as the expedition group gathered into their respective teams, seemingly eager for newfound resolve in combat. Leafa and Skyler have already scurried away to hunt, leaving a quite confused Clanus rushing after them. The poor scoutsman hadn't fully recovered from the loss of his comrades, but the new tasks might keep his head occupied. Meanwhile, the ridge and the ruins are getting the most of the work: Desmond, Phos, Audun, and Buras. A most logical line-up of warriors, and seeing that they are somewhat aligned with brute force and combat (except for Desmond, Jericho hasn't seen the man in combat), the Darkborne on the ridge are as good as dead. The ruins attracted the attention of Maria, Margot, Taryn and Pat - slightly worrying, considering their attitudes and general nature, but Maria's presence among them does comfort Jericho somewhat. He just hopes the girl can keep her cool - the last thing he wants to see is a few more members of the group crushed into salsa.

The Giant, Agramar, seemed to be sitting out of this one, and Jericho was ready to give the go-ahead order, when a most ghastly sight appeared. He didn't actually see it when it first came over, only the panicked screams of the new guardsmen, a spearman exclaiming "Holy shit! The wall!". The sight in question was a Giantess scaling over the wall, her ornate panoply of war, and morphing gigantic warhammer indicating Guardianhood. The fresh guardsmen who were part of Jericho's own group panicked, some scouring for cover, while others raised their guns and bows. The veterans paid it no heed, and quickly told the guys off for pointing their weapons at 'Big Ay', as they called her. A light womanlike voice escaped her petite (well, for a Giant) mouth, and then the pieces clicked together. Her equipment, and her name was familiar to the Guardian. She identified herself as Aymeline to the group that would handle the ruins. Aymeline. The one that fought at the Meriward Campaign.

He knew a fair bit about her, from the stories and the inevitable propaganda that got passed around. Didn't imagine that someone like her would be found here, but all things considered, it did make sense after all. Guardian as she was, she was still a Giant. Here at the front, discrimination against the different races aren't as strong as in the inner territories, probably because of the Darkborne. Mostly because of the Darkborne. With that pompous viscount in charge, Audaton shuddered to think how she'd been treated the last few months. All the more incentive to capitalize on his stay here.

"Alright, that's settled then. Lieutenants Finn and Motley will brief you on the terrain, and the missions. You can grab whatever supplies you need, from the wagon or the quartermaster, don't be shy. Good luck, and good hunting." Jericho spoke clearly to the group, unconsciously stepping on a crate to boost his enviable height up to a more easily seen position for the groups. As per his orders, two men descended from the staircase, with relatively soggy pouches in their hands. Their visage suggested that they were beggars, but the firm salutes they garnered from the passing garrison troops proved their rank as commanders. As they got to work, Jericho felt... something in his mind. A picture. The rustling leaves of a pine tree, looking up at the forest 'outpost'. This seemed to be close, and the vision didn't have any harmful tones that came with it. So quickly, he excused himself to go to that place.

Upon arriving, he spotted a familiar figure: the serpentine Incruscan last seen at Frontierville. "We meet again. What do you want?" Jericho was rather blunt. His Guardian training advised him to be harmonious and neutral, but combat experience dictated otherwise, and he was ready to strike back if this was some sort of trap. He hoped it wasn't.

hostage Trappy U UnbelievableCow LuciTheGreat Epiphany Midrick QizPizza Soviet Panda CrowOuttaHell SCSaya06 Vyseryx Sybil

​

Lieutenant Finn swiftly moved towards the group in charge of the Darkborne forms. "Morning, people. I'll make this quick." he replied in a monotone voice, as he spilled a pouch of Light-imbued dust onto the floor. A makeshift field map tool utilized by frontline commanders of the Imperial Army, this dust map is favored for its simplicity, and reusability, and easy to clean up, despite its appearance. Using his fingers, he carved lines and breathed colors into the particles that glowed blue, creating an impromptu map. He was a painter in the way that Giants can squeeze through tight entrances - which is to say, his drawings sucked. "We have no intel on the area, so what you see is what you get. We have a concentration of Darkborne forms upon this ridge, which is approximately 500-550 paces from the outpost. They haven't started shelling us yet today, and if you do it right, they won't ever again. We suspect Rottapults, Painflingers and a Siegelord stationed there, along with a few dozen Exmen, Manwalkers, and maybe even a Cerebrate serving as security detail, or simply wandering around the area.We'll be coming in from the South, and you can either go right for them, or take a flanking route around, where there's less vegetation and more room to maneuver. Your call. We can't spare any men for you, but feel free to grab any extra weaponry or ammunition." Lieutenant Finn spoke, pointing at his self-drawn map.



Lieutenant Motley did the same for the Ruins group. "We don't have concrete scouting intelligence, so this is all I've got, sorry fellas. The place is mostly dense, with some rotting buildings. We dunno how many Darkborne are holed up in there, or if there are any at all, but just b'careful. You can go right into the center, or to the sides, maybe gain access from the official streets going in an' out of it, up to ya'. Grab anythin' ya want from the quartermaster, he won't give ya much troubles."

 

[Sybil]

Spessartite Phos
​

The approval of her participation helped keep her mind focused on the task at hand, all she needed was a guiding hand to show her which way was the right way. The crudely drawn map was definitely not the prettiest one she had seen, but as far as the information it seemed somewhat solid and it has given her a direction. In all honesty, they could have pointed the natural stone golem one way and she would have just gone that way until she found resistance, but it was nice to be given better intel.

As for her own plans, the separation from the group would allow her to follow up on her second objective, feeling comfortably content with how she assumed Leafa was in safe hands. She had to start narrowing down suspects, and no one was exempt other than the small child.

“We gonna ‘ead out then? Less talk more walk?” The earthen woman certainly was not subtle, but they felt like nothing more could be said and wanted to urge her small group they had assembled. “All I need is somethin’ to go boom, yeah? Got any dynamite quarter-sir? Somethin’ that don’ need no open flame?”

Phos his title is quartermaster, not quarter that is a master so you can take out the master part. Rock why. Why are you like this.


Directly Interacts: Kabboom QizPizza U UnbelievableCow Soviet Panda

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Outpost
Status: Contemplative
Disposition: Generally Good
Interacting With: U UnbelievableCow Soviet Panda Sybil
Mentioned:

Audun stared blankly at the "map" that Lieutenant Finn drew into the Light dust. It was so unbelievably crude that an unborn child could do better. Still, the Seraph took note of situations report from the guardsman and began to think. Going directly towards the Darkborne encampment would definitely be easy for Audun, however, he also had to take into account the others in his group. The rock elemental, the Inuin, and the newcomer. While Audun could jump off the highest tower at the outpost and glide the whole way there, the others would have to walk. If they were going to walk, they might as well take the more tactically advantageous route. "We will take the flank. We need not place ourselves into more risk than needed. Having me, a half-giant, and a rock elemental, an open area will be ideal. In addition...I want to keep an eye on Desmond..."

When Audun was done speaking, he went off to the quartermaster. He browsed the selection of weapons and equipment and reached the section that contained the firearms. His eyes fell on a large cannon lying on the floor. It was clearly meant for a wall mount, but the Seraph still picked the weapon up into his arms. He then went and took a crate of light shells into his other arm. Audun turned to the quartermaster, "Do you need this cannon? I plan on...combating Darkborne artillery with...some of our own artillery."

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Outpost
Status: Anxious
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Midrick Epiphany Trappy Vyseryx
Mentioned:

Taryn looked at the group with her. Pat, Maria, Margot, and a giant named Aymelie. A female dominated group for sure, with Pat mixed in. If Audun was in Pat's place, he would be on top of at least two of them by the end of the hour. In the back of her mind, Taryn wanted to see that, just for Audun to get killed, and perhaps bring down the entire outpost with him. That would be considerably entertaining.

Pat and Margot were on cordial terms with Taryn, or so she would assume for now. Maria was a racist prick, and would try to kill Taryn in a heartbeat if she had the chance. To be honest, so would the rest of the guardsmen considering that they all knew about her identity. That damned Jericho with his "Experience Drip." The Succubus was seething with anger at the thought of the man. She would rarely kill a man without taking their lifeforce, but she will allow him an exception.

But enough about her hang ups. They had a job to do. Slay some Darkborne and keep up her appearances. "I don't really care about what you want to do, I will go in from the side of the ruins."

Taryn excused herself and went to the quartermaster to see what they had in stock. Perhaps they had some weapons that would be useful to her. As soon as she walked into the room, she saw Audun's large, fluffy wings taking up an entire quarter of the room. Taryn turned herself invisible. She just didn't want to talk with him again. Childish...but it didn't change her instinct. She crept along the wall until she was on the other side of the room. The Succubus eyed an intricate weapon in the corner right next to Audun, but her feelings kept her on the side of the pole arms.

She picked up a lance laying on a rack beside her and looked it over. Sure, Audun's lance was a quality weapon, but it was not meant for any person smaller than himself, even Taryn herself. This lance was a bit long for a human, so it was perfect for Taryn. She kept Audun's lance just to make sure it wasn't lost. With her new weapon, Taryn slipped back out of the storage room, ready to set out and explore the ruins.

 

[hostage]

ESTA FAEVEN

Her back was turned when she felt the presence of Jericho approaching. She turned to face him as he spoke. Esta studied Jericho, noticing his firm manner. She swiftly put together a plan, then assumed an upset manner. "Forgive me, commander. I am sorry," she lowered her eyes, putting on a guilty expression. "I did not know that my... animal instincts would take over at that point," she added.

Running a hand through her hair, she glanced up at Jericho slyly. "I would hope that a strong leader like you would allow me back into the group. Of course, I will accept if you do not." Esta blinked slowly. She stepped forward, lifting her chin and staring up at Jericho. "I would be an asset to the mission," she said softly. As she spoke, she allowed her conciousness to wander, touching Jericho's own and morphing to aid him in making his decision.

"Do you accept me?"

Interacting: Kabboom

​

 

[Soviet Panda]

"Use ridge line, keep Darkborne from flanking, trees also effect movement, Cerebrate much larger than us. Forest provides cover from artillery. Safety in numbers. We stick with these humans. You can watch your Desmond as easily in the forest as you can in a field, angel."

Buras followed Jericho's orders, he was the War Leader after all, designated to lead them. But this angel? This angel had no right to command him, especially when he did not think of the big picture. The Cerebrate would love the open terrain just as much, if not more than, they. As would the Darkborne artillery, which would have no qualms firing into their own and the possibility of the more nimble Darkborne running around them entirely to encircle them. While Buras was competent in his ability to kill, he did not want to stack the odds in the enemies favor more than he had to.
QizPizza U UnbelievableCow Sybil

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

The Giant dropped to one knee and bent her neck to study the map Lieutenant Motley put together for the ruin expedition. This put her at nearly eye level for most. Slowly, she nodded in approval. With a broad finger (bearing a surprisingly well manicured fingernail), Aymeline pointed out the road and the various buildings. "I've come in sight of these buildings but only at a distance. Alone, I can be pulled down. In numbers lie success."

"I would recommend a western approach. All paths of approach run the risk of ambush. If we make our entry from the roads, however, we can make a swift exit if it's needed. Other approaches risk us retreating into the forest and it's dense enough to split us up, especially if we're being chased. I suggest we establish an escape zone and prepare it before entering. That way, we can swiftly make for it and then use prepared terrain to hold off any Darkborne that are faster than we are. Just in case," she added with a bit of a smile.

Taryn's disinterest in planning didn't concern her nearly as much as the negativity radiating from the woman. Aymeline frowned slightly before her expression softened. "Alone, any of us can be pulled down," she restated for the succubus. "Stay with the group, establish the enemy's presence and secure what we can and it will go well for all of us. Will you consider it?"

"As for me," the Giant said, rising back to her feet and once more towering over the party. "I will secure provisions for all of us, though I can tell you that they're in short supply of most things at this outpost. Let me know if you'd like me to carry anything for you, any of you."

Aymeline stayed for the planning of their strategic approach to the ruins. Once decisions were made, she turned and made for the quartermaster, queuing up and requesting what supplies this team might need for a potentially extended outing.

Midrick QizPizza Trappy Vyseryx

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Outpost
Status: Playful
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Epiphany
Mentioned:

"Alone, any of us can be pulled down. Stay with the group, establish the enemy's presence and secure what we can and it will go well for all of us. Will you consider it?"

Taryn returned to the group just in time to catch the giant's words. Her hologram was not discovered, just as any good illusion should be. She hadn't really thought through the plan of attack much, but what the giant had in mind was a direct approach; hack and slash with some brute force on the side. That was not Taryn's style at all. She preferred to abuse the shadows and utilize deception to destroy her prey, a play style suited for the clever and the weak in body. Granted, Taryn's size would grant her a definitive advantage over most people and her strength matched or even that of any well trained soldier.

The Succubus clearly noticed that the giantess bore a concerned expression as she spoke about Taryn. Whether that was because Aymeline actually cared or if she was worried about Taryn's race, Taryn could not tell. The Succubus went with the former assumption and played off it. The hardlight hologram of herself stayed in place with the others in her group and her invisibility remained, as a second hologram was manifested right behind Aymeline as the giant walked towards the quartermaster. Not sparing a moment, the hologram sat itself on the giantess's shoulder and purred into her ear, "Awww, you care about me, baby. But you don't have to worry about me getting hurt. The Darkborne can't kill what they can't hit, now can they?"

By this time, Taryn had already made up her mind on what to do with the giant. She had never seen such a human-like giant before. That, combined with the air of grace that no giant could possibly have and the amount of Light radiating from her excited Taryn. The Succubus would love to be able to feed on this giant...and make the giant compliant in such. The energy and fun she could gain from Aymeline would be simply splendid.

 

[Midrick]

Pat looked at the crude map that the lieutenant laid on the ground. It was god awful, but it was better than nothing. "We sure that darkborne are the only threat that are in those ruins? any bandits or elves we might have to worry about ." it seemed that the outpost was in some dire straits if they didn't have any men to spare a scouting party after listening to the giants speech about teamwork he he shook his head, "If everyone does their job right we won't have to worry about coming back short a person, so don't fuck up."

He saw Maria and walked over to where she was standing. "Heard about you when I was working cleanup jobs for the regalians, what's your take on this lack of info? 'cause to me it spells ambush in big bright letters." you didn't survive fighting elves by not learning the signs of an ambush, Pat had a feeling something was going to go down in the abandoned village, and it wasn't something good that could be hiding in their. He didn't know how Maria was going to handle working with a succubus. Back when first started out with the reapers he heard she was a huge anti elf supporter, anti everything that wasn't human too.

Trappy Epiphany QizPizza

 

[Kabboom]

Jericho

The scaled woman had been weirdly apologetic and kind, which struck the Guardian as something rather odd. From what he could recall of her part in Frontierville, the lady had been feisty, and unrestrained in terms of insults, especially at Maria. But currently, as her complexion glistened beneath the few specks of light that penetrated through the tree's canopy, Esta was behaving as if she were a naughty child that had wised up to its misdeeds, or - as he felt it - like a girl apologizing to her loved one about some minor mistake. Jericho himself felt weird, as his eyes traced her figure. He suspected some magic was at play, seeing as Esta had snuck that vision into his mind, but it felt almost as if he... liked her. The way she moved, and twirled her hair, her freshly shed scales now visibly shifting ever so slightly.

Luckily, he had the self-control to resist the urges, and the Guardian mentally took a step back to inspect these feelings, activating Clarity in the process. Funnily enough, the emotions did fade away, confirming them to be works of magic. The funny thing about sudden, Guardian-power-induced calmness: it confuses the brains of those who don't think like they act. Not something they could consciously resist, unless they had powers against that too. He spoke up. "You don't have to resort to magic. I kinda have a thing against that. You're accepted, don't worry." Admittedly, he probably sounded like a dick at that point, calling her out, but it didn't matter to the man. Jericho then turned tail and walked.

"Oh, and don't forget your cloak. I heard the tree ants around here are pretty vicious." He added, his hands gesturing at Esta's swan feather cloak hanging upon the tree. His feet clinking up the stone-slab staircase, Audaton now returned into the confines of the outpost.

hostage

​

Quartermaster Sculley

His quarters were stocked as usual, just according to frontline Imperial standard. It had all of the required and desired items a guardsman could ever need, with perfectly suitable containment and amenities provided to their stellar quartermaster, who tends to the valiant weapons in the way that only a father could care for his sons. The storehouse was in good hands. That would be how a typical Imperial scribe would describe the equipment situation of the outpost back to his superiors, for ease of documentation across the vast plains of nothingness that make up most of the Empire.

What this actually means is: there's rats the size of puppies running around on the floor, the floor is partly made out of rats, some rats have probably become a permanent part of the floor, and there's rats the size of puppies running around on the floor. Half of the shelves seem to have collapsed already, and are being held on to the walls and floor with copious amounts of rope, while the other half of the shelves seem to have already collapsed, being recycled instead as a table. Only a quarter of the storehouse is stocked with any type of item at all, and out of that number, only a quarter of them are actual weapons, scattered about in varying levels of degradation.

Two garrison troops are arguing about whose turn it is to feed the pot-sized spider in the corner, while another two are entertaining themselves by stacking knives and axeheads on top of the rats moving around the place, much to the rats' discontent. Tape-paste* is used copiously within the confines as well, with a few guardsmen trying to make a 'Supa-Boom' by taping three dynamite bundles together. So far, their pleas to light it up and test its explosive capabilities have been denied. Another three are busy duct taping three swords together, according to their theories that if you slash something with three times more sword, then it'll take three times more damage. However, they are struggling to fix a minor design flaw, namely the fact that everyone who had tried to test this weapon has accidentally stabbed themselves in the process. So far, they suspect that taping the second sword on backwards is probably the reason why.

In the midst of all this, was Quartermaster Sculley. And he was having a completely livid day. The foul stench of the place had taken his nose since Day 14, and legend says he lost five of his legs to the Flying Sword Monster on Days 286 through 4.2, and today was proving to be one of those big, important chapters in his life. Apparently, the Council had sent some do-gooders into this blasted forest to do some good guy things. Normally, he wouldn't give a rats-ass about this, but they have decided to swing by and grab some supplies as well. This would've been routine for him, if it weren't for what they were requisitioning themselves.

Usually, in Sculley's Room of Wonders, his policy is 'give and take'. That is to say, usually, you have to give something in return. Obviously, this doesn't hold true in a combat situation, but it's a civil way of not having his entire stock vaporizing into the hands of guardsmen. But the way these people behaved, simply strolling in then demanding something without giving it in return. The angel-looking fellow struck a nerve somewhere in the Quartermaster's spike-thrashed brain, and he lashed out, after spitting a mouse out of his mouth and shaking his 6th peg-leg free from the bit of floor that had a carnivorous dagger dwelling within. "No, I don't need da' cann'n, but at least gimme sumthin' back! Quarta'masta's pol-lee-see! Fair trade!" He said, not affording the time to notice the scavenged Elf lance being hovered out of the place. And if he did noticed, he wouldn't ask anyway. The thing hadn't been of much use at all, and they haven't figured out how to shorten it yet, mostly because of how the wood part of it was somehow stronger AND sharper than the blade part. It's a mystery how those Elf mercenaries even used that damn thing before they traded it with him.

The Guardians have been, for the most part, an invisible fragment of reality for Sculley. He'd heard of them, heard stories about them, but until his induction in to the army, he'd never seen one. With the arrival of Big Ay a couple of months ago, along with that owl fellow, that changed a bit, and he'd grown accustomed to how they behaved - well, to how Big Ay behaved, seeing as she's probably the sweetest 'little' thing anyone in the outpost (minus the Group Commander, whom everyone calls VisCunt when he's not in earshot) has ever met. But the way this one was behaving, it was as if they expected him to be normal. In the forest outpost. In the Darkwoods. Normal. He wasn't sure, but he felt that isolation from most of the world has not kept him up to date on humor.

"We got that, luv', but hav' ye got anythin' ta trade fer it?" He hollered back to the rock elemental, as he begun making his way towards the men creating the 'Supa-Boom' with an inconspicuous rat in hand. These rodents were a nuisance at first, but he found that they had a number of utilities, such as insect control, thief control, and most of all, as immediate organic bludgeoning tools, enough to knock a man unconscious if struck on the head. As he neared, he noticed a big lump approaching his room, its shade covering the shelves. Big Ay had showed up, and she asked for provisions for an outing. Almost all of the rats paused in their spots and looked at Big Ay, while the guardsmen simply gawked up and smiled. The sight of a gentle Giantess can easily warm the hearts of most men. Sculley had offered to store her warhammer within his Room of Wonders, but judging by the rats, and how half the Group nearly tore their arms off trying to drag the thing in, he figured it was better that she carried it herself.

"Oi, you twits, ya heard Big Ay, medicals up the line, now!" Sculley yelled at two troopers deeper into the room, making them let go of a rat that had a dagger balanced on its tip atop the head. Immediately, the two bumbled around, flicking the roaches off of the bandages and Light vials found atop the shelves, and fastened to the walls via rope and tape-paste, and then passing it on through to the kind woman. "Anythin' fer ya, hon'!" Sculley hollered up at the Giantess, tipping an invisible hat at her.

*Tape-paste: Simply wheatpaste, but with extra Light energy infused into the mixture, enhancing its strength and adhesiveness. Think duct-tape, but medieval. And paste form.

Epiphany QizPizza Sybil

​

tHe sPaCe BeiNg oOOooOOOooOooOoOoOoo
nah jk this is the GM part

Motley quickly replied to Pat. "No sirree. The elv's ar' nice to us this time 'round, 'specially after we traded som' of our goodz wit' dem Elf mercs fer' a big lance. Not real' good, that lance, but they says they 'preciate us takin' care'v their fall'n kin or summin. Darkborne thru' and thru'."

Meanwhile, on the fields, the stags numbered in the dozens, and were peacefully grazing upon the grass, when an arrow was loosed, striking one dead on in the heart. Confused, and apparently without a leader, the stags begun to panic, and scramble all over the place. It was at this moment when a few... friendly competitors showed up to the elf duo. Three archers and a swordsman. Their ragged attire reveals them to be garrison troopers, and a few very eroded and clearly visible notches upon their bows reveal them to be garrison troopers that don't slack off on their combat duties. They swiftly introduced themselves.

Ooh damn, got that one heart-on! Lookie here boyes, we got ourselves some good shooters! Alright, swordie, keep count for us!" The apparent leader of the archers spoke up, his obvious elf ears perking upright in amusement and excitement, as he drew an arrow swiftly and took aim. The other archers are human, and they too, get into position, and one has already begun loosing arrows, being a piss-poor shot, narrowly missing a running stag by inches. A curse under his breath, the archer struggled to pull out another arrow, on which the elven archer taunted. "You're still a shit shooter, Ardie, see me on the range after this!"

Just then, he managed to look over at Leafa and Skyler, after loosing an arrow into a stag's head. "C'mon, you guys wanna join in or what? It's foodin' time!"

RubyZoo -robert-

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

Skyler's shot was precise and deadly, the stag fell to the ground, dead. The other stags, alarmed by the sudden death of their ally, started to move around frantically. As Leafa was about to receive Skyler's bow, some company showed up. Four men, three wielded bows, and the other one equiped a sword. The seemingly leader briefly introduced the group, and rapidly after, he and the two other bowmen got in position, and shot at the running animals. After some interactions between the members of the newly arrived group, the overconfident elf-man invited the two elves to join them, an invitation which the young elf accepted. "Woohoo! It's Leafa time!"

With enthusiasm, Leafa rushed over to the elven archer. With a flourish, she drew her bow, aimed at one of the moving stags and let go of the arrow. The stag swiftly dodged the arrow directed it's way. However, before the arrow hit the ground, the wind suddenly shifted, and it directed the arrow towards the stag, it hit it in the heart, and the stag fell. "Wooo! Animal with horns one, Leafa zero! Uhh wait! The other way around!"

RubyZoo Kabboom

 

[BioshockRP]

Muddy footsteps, quick and subtle, crushed the grass' fresh dew from morning's welcome. Thick greenish-brown, decayed bushes swayed by generated wind in rhythmic click from feet and hand motioned in breaststroke. With sly, agile steps across foliage, Cris Deluna, a man clad in dark cloth and leather, witnessed the puddles before him. He dared not ruin his empire-issued boots, so he kept his dark eyes to the water. From vision mirrored by the water, his eyes reflected a serious demeanor accompanied with forehead covered by bangs, alongside dripping sweat, as dark brown hair became intermittently parted by the air. The sun bared its rays on a man shaped by the environment, a ghost made visible only through the light that provoked the image of human form.

Bony, but not quite, more thickened, yet still skinny in appearance, Cris' body pressed through a small grove. He amply maneuvered the darkened bark with flexible stretches of muscles against the obstacles. The dance of tendons crunched lightly, as he glided passed an opening, legs stretched as to kick through the hole. Body laid prone, but in flight, as he twisted into and out of the opening with legs out first and foremost. Gracefully landing on his feet, he stumbled his hands aside the plucked, wilted greenery. A small huff escaped his lips, as his repetitive breath became volatile. Sooner, or later, he hoped soon, he'd finally arrive at his destination.

A man, tribal and savaged, turned civil and soldier by his teachers, who convinced him to accept the Empire's culture. What else could a man do, in such a scenario? Cris aspired for his fellow tribe to survive, but still fear lingered in his mind. His breath, why had it grown so rough. Prior training taught him to remain calm and collected, yet worry seemed to spark at the most inopportune time. "Sova...," softly spoken, then equipped generously by an uncomfortable screech that matched an owl, "SOVA!" As the yell traveled across the forest plains, his ears picked up the noise of scattered wildlife. Now better in his mood, he carried himself upright. He placed his right leg forward and used his right knee as a weight to lift his petite, athletic body off dirtied ground. With dirt and grime covered attire, he laced his footsteps along the ground in a trick, before climbing the row of trees.

Gentle and soothing, a breeze rushed over the exhausted Cris, as he managed to steady himself from tree to tree, until end came from an unsteady branch. Swiftly, his feet landed this time, his body crouched in a slavic squat. A squirmed crawled passing as legs rustled the decayed leaves followed by a straight horizontal turn of the neck to spot anything behind the man. Like owls, Cris contained the ability to twist his neck horizontally in any direction, so his viewpoint remained flexible even in stressed moments.

The question persisted, asking the man, why do you bother with the care, the meticulous actions. Soon temple scratched away the dread from left pointer finger, as Cris became focused upon the outpost. In marvelous stature only worn by moldy, dirty wood accompanied with leafy, crumbled cobblestone; the outpost filled his pupils. Upwards his body shifted, standing full view to the archers atop the posts. Raised hands, as the man ensured his weapons out of reach to the stationed guard who checked his identification. Gruff and stout, Cris heard the man's protocol, "Everything's in order. Move along, son." No comments or replies exited Cris' mouth, for the crowd blessed his mind with reassurance.

Scuffling at first, before steps turned calm upon dirt-engrossed ground. Breath normal and anxiety diminished, Cris mustered himself to hear the officer's instructions to meet up with the quarter master for further briefing. And so, he followed the orders, until eyes caught wind of a jarred door containing giantess and quartermaster engaged in duty. He waited until the quartermaster allowed him to enter.

Kabboom

 

[Sybil]

Spessartite Phos
​

The man's accent was similar to her own and her scout friend, the lingo being one she could grasp unlike some of the smoother talkers of the group she had encountered. The druid spoke complicatedly...

"... I can give ya somethin, but you might not 'ave much use fur it." The elemental raised their hand up for his viewing before grabbing a finger of it with her other hand. Then, with a quick and loud break, she snapped her pointer finger off backward and dropped the finger on the counter. With it being left by her body the stone soon fell off it, revealing almost a pound and a half of emerald and quartz fused together in a swirl-like fashion. "Does that cover it?"

Directly interacts: Kabboom

 

[hostage]

ESTA FAEVEN

Esta shook her head, blinking away a sudden bout of something. Dizziness? She didn't know. All she knew was that she had been called out. She blinked again, her mind sharpening once more as she noticed Jericho turning away. His last remark about her beloved cloak set her teeth grinding....well..almost. She reigned in her temper, allowing herself to feel happy that she had been forgiven. Sweeping up her cloak and belongings, she followed the Commander, feet light as ever.

"Wait! Hold on," Esta panted. She buckled her cloak around her throat, then slung her bow across her shoulders. "What do I need to do? There has to be something for me to do!" She was anxious to prove herself again, and hoped that Jericho would see her desperateness. As she wrung her hands a bit, she looked up. Esta's breath hitched in her throat. "Damn it all..."

The outpost was huge. Bigger than it seemed from her hideout in the forest. She hadn't noticed before, but the guards surrounding the place seemed like they actually knew what they were doing. Unlike other, weaker outposts that she had robbed before, this one was well defended and alert. Esta tensed up as she made eye contact with a sentry, her eyes flicking away nervously. Jericho, on the other hand, seemed at ease, and the effects of his ability allowed Esta to metaphorically lower her hackles. "Umm.." she muttered.

Interacting: Kabboom

​

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Purest Mixture

She had long forgotten the face of the first person she killed, nor could she remember the reason for it. There may not have been a reason to begin with. What she did remember was how easy it was.

The second time was the same. The third may have been even easier. The fourth definitely was. By the time she had stopped counting so very long ago it seemed like all she had to do was decide 'die' and they did so.

Flesh parted like paper. Bones crumbled like eggshells. Skulls popped like watersacks.

She no longer had anything holding her back. She was finally and truly free.

Beware, for I am fearless. And therefore powerful.

Pryonn & Kaatl

The knight 'awoke' with a jerk, a shudder freeing him from the penetrative bleakness, a poison befitting a worm-like womb. Shaken into waking in equal measure, the fairy rushed to the knight's aid, worry mixed with pity on her features as a pale hand soothingly stroked the plated visage's side. For several moments, the knight simply let the winged girl do, steel-gaze starry and without aim. With a slight nod, his veiled view regained focus, noting the pale fairy's concern. "One needs not mourn," he spoke with sing-song, seeking to assuage "Even cradled red, I was bastard born and bastard bred."

Slowly the knight extricated himself from the fairy's ministrations, rising to his feet amidst a series of metallic creaking, joints readjusting. Caring little for discomfort, the knight's voice emitted only mirth "You see, it's a knight's great work!" he spoke, mailed neck tilting from side to side, cracks and groaning metal following his every word "To live the theme! To dream a gloriousely impossible dream!"

The proceedings of the day passed easily enough, with the only major choice chancing to be whether to go for slaughter on the ridge or go for adventure in the ruins. While partial to the former, the knight chose the latter, figuring that a gift for courtship might be found, and if not then surely the simple joy of questing would make for fine sight-seeing!

Arriving at the Quartermaster's office, the knight took his time inspecting the proceedings, noting the busy state of the present officeholder with the giant and the elemental. Worthy companions to be sure, partaking in a conversation with them whilst on the journey might be a satisfying pastime. But for now knight and fairy's respective gazes set themselves upon a more diminutive, sparsely-garbed figure, clad in dour cloth of questionable covering, perhaps suitable for the road ahead. Waiting for his turn with the Quartermaster, the knight let his curiosity reign as he approached the dour Cris with usual knightly splendor in his voice "Hail to you, good lady-lad! Are you going to be part of the forming group? If so, we'lll be questing-companions!"

In truth, the knight couldn't tell this one's gender, the apparent androgyny leaning more towards female than anything, but he figured he could err on the side of caution by simply addressing the figure before him as both, to be corrected as necessary. Even Kaatl appeared puzzled, scrutinizing the man-woman with inquisitive eyes from her perch atop the knight's shoulder, one tiny hand stroking her chin in thought.

Offering the unknownly-gendered his open hand in greetings, the knight rendered the proper introductions "Kaatl and Pryonn we are! Dynamic duo up wide and far!"




Addressed: BioshockRP

Mentioned: Kabboom Sybil Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

The Giant smiled at the disorganized chaos that passed for the outpost quartermaster's stock. Rats don't especially bother her and, on the front lines, collapsing shelves and nearly empty stock was the norm. Thankfully, the ruins were close and wouldn't need much in the way of supplies. Which was just as well, judging by the soldiers experimenting with dynamite and the most ridiculous set of swords Aymeline had ever personally witnessed.

"Thank you, Quartermaster," she said, her smile brightening as Sculley gave orders for what she needed. "Food too, if you don't mind. There's half a dozen of us going to the ruins. Even if everything goes well, it'll take most of the day to search the place for anything useful and I doubt we'll find lunch there. Oh, that reminds me..." One big hand reached into a belt pouch and produced a human armful of leaves. "I found a large swath of peppermint out there. I thought you could use it, for medicines or just tea." She eyed one of the improvised tables with a dubious look before carefully pouring the leaves out of her hands onto the surface.

The rest of the supply staff received an appreciative nod from the Giant.

Once provisioned, Aymeline rose from her crouch and hefted her newly filled pack before heading back to the expedition. Along the way, she spotted her oldest friend at the outpost. "Cris!" she said, looking pleased to see him. "Are you going in to see Sculley? Oh, are you free? The supply caravan showed up with some reinforcements including a few Guardians and other talented people. Their commander put together an expedition to the ruins, which you know I've wanted to see for myself. I already have the supplies for it. Can you come? It would be nice to have your eyes watching my back."

Assuming Cris is inclined to come along, Aymeline rejoins the others before glancing around and saying "Is everyone here? If so, let's move out before it gets dark on us."

Midrick QizPizza Trappy Vyseryx BioshockRP