Fantasy Gate of the Unknown

[Melon Bomb]

INTRODUCTION



While curiosity is one of mankind's most primitive and base emotions, so too is fear of the unknown. On the first day of the first month in year 912 - the anniversary of the world's supposed birth - there is a gate that is said to open somewhere in the world. A gate whose polished surface is impenetrable to even the mightiest spells, and whose size dwarfs all of humanity's creations. In the time since it has been discovered, countless civilizations have attempted to unseal it. Some have even come to worship it, believing it to be a sacred door into the domain of gods, which mortals should never lay their unworthy hands upon.

But now, in a day's time, that gate is finally set to open. Men and women from all around the globe gather to witness this monumental event. While most are content to observe and celebrate the grand unveiling of an ancient mystery that has existed before their time, others have... different plans. After all, what could await them on the other side but an entirely new world to explore? For this reason, adventurers from all walks of life make pilgrimage to this strange place in hopes of experiencing something otherworldly, and of course, to seize from its domain wonders and treasures of surely insurmountable value. The scouts of warring kings and empires miraculously cease fire as they wait alongside them, allowing for a few days grace between them while they explore. And, inevitably, they will be present as well... the worshipers and the doomsayers, citing curses and calamity on any who dare tread foot into this holy place without blessing.

You are one such individual, standing before the gates. Your reasons may be your own, but in that moment, everyone awaits the same truth. What is on the other side?

Only time can tell what lies beyond... or if the horriying dive into the unknown will be worth the peek behind the curtain.



WORLD​

[Magic]
Spell casters are the select few able to wield magic, but they all share one thing in common: They only have one type of ability. It can be expanded on and to be made versatile through training, but a fire mage will only ever be a fire mage, and a plant mage will only ever be a plant mage. With, of course, a few exceptional cases.

[Curio]
Magic items in this world are called 'curios' and come in four classes of effectiveness:

Curio: The weakest and most common class. Items like swords that return to the user's hand, or a quiver that regenerates arrows would exist in this class.
Stele: A substantial increase in power. Gauntlets that generate potent shockwaves and bulletproof capes exist in this class. Stele are uncommon and considered very valuable.
Regalia: Extremely powerful curios are in the regalia class. Impervious armor suits, or spears that transform into destructive bolts of lightning exist in this class. Getting your hands on one of these is incredibly difficult.
Divus: There are only 13 of these in existence, and their whereabouts are presently unknown.

[Technology]
Medieval-level technology is the norm. A small, relatively unknown civilization on the other side of the globe has been quietly developing steam rifles, metal alloys, and even radio communication; however, they are almost impossible to find outside of their region as they are very protective of their inventions.

RACES​

[Humans]
Your run of the mill humans. Human spell casters are called mages, though only a handful are able to practice magic at all.

[Beastfolk]
Beastfolk are humanoid creatures that heavily share one or more features of another animal species. Beastfolk spell casters are called shamans, a decent number have the potential to wield magic.
Beastfolk have the unique ability to 'chimerize.' When devouring other beastfolk, they steal some of their animalistic features, turning into what is called a chimera. In rare cases, a chimera is able to not only inherit the victim's biology, but even their magic as well. A shaman who eats another shaman - thus gaining control over two or more domains of spell craft - are known as blood chimeras and are greatly feared as both violent and powerful.

[Fae]
The fae are winged creatures that closely resemble humans. Fae who cannot cast spells are called hobs (they also lack wings), and are a rare sight in their societies.
Hobs often self-exile, too ashamed to be in the presence of their kin.

[Elves]
Over time, certain exiled communities of hobs developed their own cultures and began to refer to themselves as elves instead. While hobs cannot cast magic, they can still produce offspring who can - as a result, some elves, though lacking wings, are still able to cast spells - although they aren't quite as common, nor are they as powerful. Elven spell casters are called sylphs.
Something that elves have that the fae do not is magic resistance, to which their species carries in varying degrees.

FACTIONS​

[Kingdom of Rhine]
The largest and most civilized of human nations, the Kingdom of Rhine is home to a majority human population, with other races being allowed, but naturally scarcer due to their status as lesser beings in the eyes of the King Istoria and his court.

[Kingdom of Vanorak]
This kingdom is a melting pot of different species, but primarily human and beastfolk. Vanorak is a war born society built on foundations of meritocracy. Fighting is in not just in their culture, but in their blood. Their relationship with magic is a hostile one, seen as cowardly and unwarrior-like. Spell casters are tolerated as long as they do not use magic, but will be brutally punished if they do - not by any law, but by mobs of enraged vigilantes. Its current king is a great bear beastman named Gora, who permits the enslavement of weaker citizens and the act of pitting them in death sports. They are at war with everyone. Partially for conquest reasons, but also to prove their power.

[Empire of Oru]
A nation consisting of almost entirely beastfolk. They are at war with the Kingdom of Rhine for their treatment of beastfolk and have decided to maintain a similar - but harsher - policy toward humans. Unlike Rhine, the Oru Empire is much more accepting of the fae and the elves.

[The Grove]
The largest natural settlement of the fae. They consider themselves superior to all other species and often make displays of power in attempts for other nations to see them as dominant. They have no actual desire to rule or grow in strength, it is simply their pride that drives their mentality.

[Willder Colony]
Where the exiled hobs made their permanent residence. At the current time, the population of elves vastly outnumber that of hobs. They are hostile with the Grove's fae, with even war being considered.

[Triune Collective]
The Collective is the largest existing body of beastfolk, fae, and elves. They are solely neutral, not taking any invasive actions and only acting with the interest of preserving their community.

[Order of Saint Lyrus]
A religious following that worships their ancient Saint Lyrus as an ascended deity, seen as a protector of all living things (but mostly humankind). They are notable in the vast size of their following and their inquisition force of paladins, champions, priests, and the like.

[Church of the Holy Gate]
Fanatics who developed a cult around the legendary gate, espousing that it is a doorway into the realm of gods and that those who touch it will be condemned to the hells.

Spoiler: Artists Used

Kitsuna
Mugon
Rapt

 

[Melon Bomb]

For the first time in eighty years, snow descended at the base of Tuamin Mountain.

It was the start of a new year all across the continent, and as some hoped, it would be the start of new beginnings as well. The light blizzard was unexpected, but most of the travelers had come quite prepared. The encampment was a long ways north, beyond the reach of borders. Even from the nearest civilized village, the trip would've taken three or more days on horseback. Thankfully, the company of a herd offered some solace during their pilgrimage, as an incredible trail of soldiers, adventurers, priests, and scholars came together to form a steady path from their homes into the deep snow ridged canyon, paving the way for like-minded journeymen. Not much sunlight touched the earth where they tread, shielded by towering cliffs that walled them in from both sides. Torch bearers led the way forward, holding them high to shed much needed light for those in the back to follow. Not many people visited the Tuamin encampment. It was in the middle of nowhere, after all. Food, water, shelter; all of it was in scarce supply.

But today, a brief walk away from the camp, the gate would finally open its doors for everyone to see. Yes, that gate - that magnificent, colossal structure embedded into stone, all but impossible to open or break by existing means. For thousands of years - maybe tens of thousands - not a single soul had been able to take so much as a quick peek inside, nor were any able to recover surviving documents that described its true purpose. It was here they said, that all great men and women would be witness to history in the making. That all powerful, all alluring draw of feeling like you were a part of something bigger than yourself was difficult to ignore.

And certainly, history will indeed be made...

***

The entrance of the mess hall swung open to a warm candle lit establishment, lined with rows upon rows of rickety wooden tables. Each bench was jammed to the brim with unfamiliar bodies and faces, sharing drinks and joining the unintelligible chorus of voices that roared over the lone tambur player who plucked away in the corner stage. And drinks were all they had, it seemed - most everyone brought their own food, and were likely keen on reserving it for later when they would actually need it. Disappointing, but this wasn't exactly a center of trade traffic. Standing in the doorway was a young brown-haired girl, clearly in her mid or early teens. Gazing in with an air of hesitance, she could feel the cold wind blowing at her back, feeling its bite on her ears and cheeks. At her feet, she could see snow tracked footprints trailing inside and crumbling on the dry wooden floorboards.

She could find a place that was warm. She could find a place that was quiet. But she could not find a place that was warm and quiet.

So noisy... the girl thought, taking a small step forward and gently closing the doors behind her. Now, she was no stranger to conversation but even she felt a smidge of discomfort around this many people in the same place, packed in like blabbering sardines. And lucky her, she would probably have to get real friendly with some of these sardines, real soon. Taking a few consolatory deep breaths in preparation, she puffed up her chest and made an awkward stride to the first table, tapping her staff down at her side.

It took a moment, but some of the men finally looked up, taking notice of the tiny girl.

"Aye lass, can we help you?" said an older gentleman, his gloriously full beard stained with foam. He had the build of a mountain man, stocky and intimidating, but his eyes seemed kind enough.

"I'm looking to join a group," the girl said, working up courage as she steadily enunciated her first words. "My name is Margaret Wynn, I'm an adventurer." She hadn't planned to come alone, but she knew full well that the cards were rarely ever going to be in her favor - that's something she knew from firsthand experience. Sure she'd made friends here and there, but none of them were interested in joining her on the march to the gate. Understandable, but still... it was disheartening. She blinked, waiting for a response.

"Mmm... dunno 'bout that lassie," he said, taking a long sip from his mug and wiping with his hairy forearm when he was finished. "I've already got my boys to look out for, don't think having a little girl tag along is gonna cut it." The man lounged back in his chair until it creaked, putting an arm on the table. "But aye, screw it. I'll hear you out, what can ya do?"

Margaret swallowed, holding her staff tight as she looked the curious man in the eye. She could feel her blood pressure rise just thinking about it, but she was just going to have to say it.

"I know what's behind the gate."

The men at the table stopped talking. With just one sentence, she had the undivided attention of every man at the table, staring up at her in frozen unison. The girl stood just as stiffly, as though she had not been given permission to move. She read each face with uncertainty, feeling the cold from earlier fade into a sort of vague numbness. It must've gone on for at least ten seconds, maybe longer, before one of them finally burst out laughing. It proved to be infectious, as the other men followed suit one after another and let out snorts of giddy.

"Girl, girl, come on. Nobody knows what's behind the damn gate," one said, wiping away a tear with his thumb as he held his gut. "You're a funny one, I'll give you that."

"Had me going there for a minute, I'll admit that!" the bearded man said gleefully, raising his mug to the air. This was about the reaction she had expected. Margaret sighed and felt the tension in her fingers loosen, drooping over dramatically. It wasn't like she could prove it or back up her claims with anything. Well, not without revealing that, anyway.

"Sorry to bother you..." Margaret mumbled, turning away in shame. She knew they didn't mean anything by it, but it still felt pretty bad to be laughed it. Maybe she wasn't as mentally prepared for this as she thought. Before she tried approaching the other tables, first she'd have to give herself a moment to chill out, recompose herself.

Sulking toward one of the windows like a zombie, she rifled through her big old coat pockets and produced a small, polished pipe. Another souvenir she nicked from the household, as it were. Wedging it between her teeth, she lit up a match and began having herself the first smoke of the day. Certainly wasn't going to be the last.

Alta AsterRose BugDozer73 Zazz Fred Colon EmeraldSplash

 

[Fred Colon]

Donovan was almost happy. He trudged up the icy, white roads in his thick, bear-hide coat, his hair powdered with new snow.

“Hello!” He said to one of the other travelers on the road, and gave her a broad smile.

“Hello?” She said, an eyebrow cocked. She gave Donovan a strange look, but nothing more. Nothing more!

There were so many people on the road, so many strange and different people, that Donovan passed almost unnoticed! What was a man carrying a coffin on his back and his backpack on his belly compared to this multifarious throng? He saw beast-men and Fae and a man that looked like he might have been both! A gang of what seemed to be only women in chainmail were leading a horse-drawn cart ladened with a cage full of screaming monkeys. A quartet of Bear-men, identical not only in face, but in dress and equipment were walking in step together up the icy causeway. There were normal folk, too. More normal, anyway, but Donovan didn’t feel the need to explain himself to everyone he met. He could just… walk amongst the crowd! He was another weirdo amongst a cavalcade of weirdos heading into the unknown at the base of the Tuamin Mountains.

“Did you… want something from me?” The woman asked, and Donovan realized he had been staring and smiling at her for a good ten seconds.

“Oh. No! Sorry! Nothing!” Donovan said and pressed on ahead. He was in better shape than most people here. It made sense he supposed. Walking was what he did. It was practically the only thing he was good at.

Donovan slowly passed through the winding lines of travelers until he reached the Base Camp. There weren’t many buildings, but the camp was packed full of people, and where the buildings stopped, an endless tent city seemed to have sprung up. The great gate loomed over everyone, but Donovan did his best to pretend it wasn’t there. He knew he had to go through it, but it scared the soul out of him to think about it. He would pretend it wasn’t there and enjoy himself while he could.

Donovan pushed himself into the mess hall. He accidentally wacked a few people with the coffin he carried on his back and bumped people with the backpack on his chest, unwieldy as they were in the crowded place, but no one called the guard and he wasn’t refused entry! People just gave him funny looks!

“A beer please!” Donovan said triumphantly to the bar keep.

“Sure, kid.” The bar tender said eventually, after attending to a few more customers. “Silver piece.”

He wasn’t going to be kicked out for having a giant coffin on his back! What a wonderful day! At least until Donovan realized he didn’t have any money.

“Oh. Uh. Yes. Well. You see. About that... I don't actually have any money." Donovan grinned sheepishly. "I didn’t actually think I would get this far.”

 

[AsterRose]

Among the people already sat in the mess hall, a fae sat on the edge of a table in deep conversation with a beastfolk.

“I could’ve sworn I’ve only ever seen a broach like yours once,” she said in a chirpy voice too young for her. “And that one was absolutely a fake.”

The half-vixen narrowed her eyes at the fae. “I told you it was a family heirloom.”

“I’m aware. But what does it mean to you?” The fae brought up a bad full of coins.

Bang! The vixen slammed her fist on the table. “It was my grandmother’s. If you think I’ll give it away for a little bit of cash, which is worthless around here… you disgust me.”

Uh oh. The fae desperately snapped her fingers as the beast folk picked up their food and storm off. “Wait!”

It was too late. There was no way she could cast a spell at her. The group of humans who sat beside her stared. She offered them an innocent grin.

“Sentimentality, am I right?” she joked.

The humans continued to stare. Her laugh faded and smiled widened in cowardice. Though she had the ability to cast a spell on them, for them to laugh along, she wouldn’t dare waste it.

“Well done, Chrys,” she muttered.

She grabbed her coat and pulled it tighter around her. Chrys had to fold down her wings to put it on, and they even shivered beneath it. She never thought she’d be wishing for a gift in some other form of magic, but she did in that moment wish she was proficient in fire magic. Well, you couldn’t win them all. She had been lucky enough to buy or trade all the clothes she had on now that kept her warm. Still, she wished it would offer her more.

Chrys slurped the rest of her lukewarm soup up barbarically, tilting her tin bowl into her mouth and let the last cold drip drop into her throat before licking the rest of it up. She wiped her chin clean with the back of her hand. She then opened her satchel and slid her mess kit into it. At least she had been smart enough to bring that.

And at least there were people dumb enough to believe her junk were Curios. She marvelled at all the people as bored as her, willing to do some trade. She knew she hadn’t exhausted everybody, though.

She stood from her seat, easily giving it up for somebody else, and wandered around the room with a hand on her satchel’s fastenings. Her steps were slow, still having not gotten used to wearing her boots on a hard floor. Her eyes based over the people, searching for anyone of interest, any item of interest. There was one girl with a pipe at window. She looked young. Perhaps naive.

Chrys approached with wide, infatuated eyes. “What a fine trinket you have there,” she said. “Tell me, how did you acquire it? Was it found in this condition, or did you restore it? You can finish your smoke before you hand it to me, but I'd be delighted to know.”

Melon Bomb

 

[Melon Bomb]

Margaret gave the pipe another puff, feeling the warm smoke ease her up. Her father had always told her never to smoke, that she'd ruin her body and become a sickly old crone. Funny then, that one night she came home to find him lighting up some tobacco on the balcony, which he tried to awkwardly hide like a child who'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. A habit he'd been hiding for years, no doubt. It was the only moment of vulnerability he ever showed to her, and it always made her smile thinking about it. It was something she'd love to hang over his head one day... if they ever spoke to each other again.

Exhaling smoke through her nostrils, she lifted her head and found herself face-to-face with some manner of interested party - a fae woman it looked like, not much older than her. She grabbed her staff that was leaning against the wall and used it to tilt up her hat for a better look. The young girl stared blankly for a moment, as if she were spacing out.

"Oh, uh, this thing?" she said, plucking the pipe from her mouth and also not handing it over. "It's just a normal pipe. Found it laying around the house one day, why do you ask? Not for a pass, I hope... I don't really like to get the mouthpiece dirty." The girl paused. "Um, not saying you're dirty or anything! You know what I mean."

AsterRose

 

[EmeraldSplash]

''The doorway to unknown territory will be opened, what an interesting thought. The land that is to this day unexplored by the likes of men, will be available to wonder about in. What an interesting concept isn't that right? Mr.?'' A woman hidden in the shadows of a tent of some sorts said, pointing at what seemed to be the owner of the tent. ''Portie'' Said the man with great bliss for he thought a customer came. ''But you call me Port, for short. So... What is it that you seek in here ? Empty maps ? Gear perhaps? ''

The woman walked out of the shadows, revealing her full scale. A well-built female with a face-mask of sorts, possibly to hide her appearance and a cape over her head. ''A woman''

Port started laughing, however he felt something was wrong. ''Well we all do search for women! I haven't gotten laid in ages my dear!''

A dagger flew through the air, penetrating Shopkeeper's hand, pinning him into a wooden supporting beam that seemed to be keeping the tent standing. In a matter of milliseconds the young woman rushed towards Portie. She held her hand over his mouth and whispered into his ear. ''A woman. Fae. About nineteen years old. Artifacts freak. Where.''

''There was one woman like that, I have seen her today but i did not talk to her! I don't know her ! Please have mercy!'' The Shopkeeper whispered back visibly in a horrible state of mind. With a tear running down his left cheek he uttered.. ''If I tell you where did she go from the place that I have seen her. Will you leave? I have not seen your face and I don't intent to...''

The assassin dressed in all white seemed to be satisfied. ''Oh.. Portie.. If you tell me, I will even pay you for the information.'' Portie's eyes shined at the thought of not dying and so he spilled out the info. ''I stood in front of my tent and she seemed to be headed into the tavern, but not the left one, the one on the right it's a big tent and ...''
He did not even finish his sentence as the dagger left his hand, seemingly on his own will.

''You did good. Let me tell you now what I intent to do.'' The assassin looked him dead in the eye. ''I intend to kill the woman for I am paid to do so.''
''And I will keep quiet about you ever being here in the first place?'' Portie interrupted the assassin.

''Yes Portie very good.'' she said in a menacing manner searching for something in her back pocket. ''Two questions. First, do you know what is this? Second, Do you know who you are if I was to let you go?'' her eyes shined as she placed a wooden coin on the ground in front of him.

Looking down at the coin he saw a bird inscribed in it. ''Woodpecker? The ... T-The W-Woodpecker?!''

''The second question Portie.''

''If you leave me alive I will do nothing, you weren't here. I cut myself because I'm too clumsy. Please. I'm serious.'' The man started begging. Kneeling before the Woodpecker.

''If I would leave you alive ... You would become a loose end.'' A swift cut slit the man's throat and he fell onto the ground, covering the coin with his body. ''Nobody likes loose ends'' She said as she walked out of the tent.

A young girl about maybe fifteen years old waited for Woodpecker outside. ''Is it done?'' she asked.

''Yes it is.''

''I did not hear anything. Are you sure he's dead? Because if he's dead he's quiet but he can be faking it. Playing dead you know.''

''What you just said did not make any sense.''

''But-''

''Silence my dear. Let us hunt some Fae.''

AsterRose

 

[AsterRose]

Chrys rose her hands at the young girl. “No, no! I understand.” She smiled softly. “I don’t smoke, but I am a collector, of sorts.” Her gloved brushed her scarlet-highlighted hair back before it was held out before the girl. “Chrys-Anne Saltgrove. You may have heard of my mother, Margot Saltgrove? Of Fae’s Finest Pawn Shop?”

She had only shared her name with a few people so as not to arouse suspicion. If too many people talked about who she was they would uncover her falsehoods. That was why she didn’t persist around here. Anyway, she was likely to find some interesting artefacts for herself behind that gate once it opened, something one of kind, something that will bring her a fortune! Even bring her fame! Chrys-Anne, discoverer of… something.

“If you don’t wish to part with it,” Chrys said, “that’s fine. Some items do hold value to them beyond anything monetary. But if I could at least have a look, tell you more about what you hold, I would much appreciate it. And perhaps you might appreciate it more.” Maybe she'd see enough worth in it to sell it instead, she kept to herself.

Melon Bomb

 

[Melon Bomb]

The axe came down with a dull thwack! and split the small log of firewood cleanly in two. Sliding the pieces off with the flat of the blade, the man handed his axe over to his buddy handle first and slammed down on a bench by the fire. Briskly rubbing his hands together, he rummaged through his sack to grab something to eat. He'd been chopping away for a good while now, taking turns since morning. They both arrived a day earlier than they'd hoped, so for now they were stuck biding their time and helping out some of the folks who were joining them outside.

Munching on his sandwich, his eyes studied the faces of the people who were still pouring in. The line was thinning out, to be sure, but the encampment clearly wasn't designed to accommodate this many people. Still, it wasn't all that bad. Only a few fights broke out so far, and they were pretty mild cases 'cept for the guy that got his shit knocked out for trying to steal somebody's lunch. He was still probably laying in the snow somewhere, unconscious - might even die if they leave him alone long enough, not that anybody really cared.

"Hyah!"

From around the bend, a purple banner rose high into the air and flapped dramatically in the wind; a banner quickly recognizable as bearing the crest of Rhine Kingdom. Where there were once only people, now a horse mounted troop forged through the snow, the pounding of heavy hooves audible even over the strong breeze. With an armored knight at the helm of the pack, travelers side-stepped and gawked at the passing soldiers. Vanorak and Oru troops had already taken up camp earlier in the day, but it was quite like them to arrive fashionably late.

The knight slowed down to a halt in the center of the tent city, scanning the surroundings. After a moment of silence, he seemed to settle on something. Turning his horse, he marched it over to the eastern end of the camping grounds, looking down at the beastfolk huddled there through his visored helmet.

"All of you, move," the armored man ordered, resting his gauntleted hand on the hilt of his weapon. "We are taking this space."

The beastfolk exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to react. They had no intention of giving up their place, but the idea of starting a fight with the soldiers of Rhine was none too bright a prospect either - the indecision left them paralyzed - perhaps for a little too long, as the knight began to stir in his saddle, growing impatient.

"I said, MOVE!" The man lifted his metal faceplate to reveal a nasty scowl. "Don't you animals understand English? Get up, before we remove you."

Further up, resting Oru soldiers glared daggers at the scene this knight was causing, but made no move yet. They couldn't intervene, the group being addressed was likely made up of unaffiliated adventurers and researchers. Two days of grace. After the gate opens they had two days, but until then, they were stuck with each other.

***

"Like I said," Margaret rattled off, throwing a hand up. "You'll hardly make a coin pawning this th--" She suddenly stopped, catching herself mid-sentence. Her eyes quickly darted away and forward again, and then the girl coughed loudly into the crook of her sleeve, holding a finger in the air. "Ah, mm, ahem. Mhrm... Hey, listen..." Margaret leaned in, tossing her arm over Chrys's shoulder and speaking in more of a hushed whisper.

"Listen, you seem like the type interested in making some money," she began, glancing over her own shoulder to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, flashing the young woman a toothy grin. "Me too. What say you and I help each other out, yeah? I've been looking to get a group together - no way I'm going in alone, and you probably shouldn't either. Lotta folks just here for sight-seeing, but people like us, we know the scent of cash when we smell it, and whatever's behind that door has got to be hiding some real valuable goodies." Putting some distance between each other, she straightened out her back and smiled again. "Name's Margaret, by the way. Sounds kind of like your mother's name, huh? Maybe I'll drop by her shop when this is over."

AsterRose

 

[BugDozer73]

Thamior stopped by the edge of the woods, and he lifted his nose up, and he inhaled deeply. He could identify the deep mineral tinge that came form the dirt and the aged musk of the flora trapped under the surprising snow. His nose twitched as it picked up a further trail, one of campfire smoke, stale mead and that stench that only came from a congregation of people. Individuals, he could handle... sometimes. But Thamior hated crowds. They were noisy and disorienting, and filled with dangers like drunken fools and dangerous mages. When the racism began and the crowd faced you, it didn't matter who was holding the knife, only that now you were stabbed and would very likely get stabbed again. For a moment he considered waiting outside.

A sound and a smell came faintly east, both at the same time. The smell of blood staining snow and the sound of a weak groan. No surprise that someone would need his help in a place where people gathered and drank. But here, with groups from every kingdom, he would have more than enough to occupy him him. He sighed, the thought laying invisible weights over his shoulders, which drooped forward as he grumpily started trudging towards the noise.

It didn't take him long to find the boy, laying face down in the snow. Drops of red on white near where his face was hiding were a nice little indication of what was to come. He wasn't shivering, yet, so he was either just getting outside, or unconscious, and Thamior was smart enough to bet on that one. He looked over the boy, tan and tall, but skinny, and bruised around his neck and shoulders. his left arm was bent at a funny angle and his shoes were missing. Thamior chuckled as he knelt down by the man. "Someone made some friends." to which he offered to no one in particular. He turned the man over, and his expression darkened slightly. There was bruising all over his face, most notably around the nose and eyes, and some on the jaw as well. He could tell by the color that the man had probably been unconscious for at least 30-40 minutes. His left eye was swollen completely shut, and blood had stopped pouring from his nose and some lacerations on his for-head and left temple. With a claw, Thamior pulled back the mans top lip and sighed. "Hope those were baby teeth." But he knew this man wasn't going to be chewing for a while.

He quickly straightened out the man, and took a moment to set his arm, which went back into place with a small SNAP. That would have hurt, had he been awake to feel it. Thamior reached down into his pouch and willed several seeds forth. He looked at the earth and pointed at it with a claw, and small tendrils of sturdy yellow magic curled forth, and the earth came to and churned beneath him, slowly making 3 small holes in which to plant the seeds. He dropped them in one by one, taking his time, and waved his hand over them and the earth shunted shut. This time, he began to twirl his fingers over the earth skyward, as if he were wrapping up a thread and pulling it. The magic that flowed from him now was emerald green, and it fluttered with life, and three small green plants broke the once frozen surface and continued to grow upwards. Thamior smiled as he watched them grow and curl and thicken. Nature, and life itself, had always had a special place in his heart.

As the plants came to, and sprouted their flowers or seeds, he took what he needed and a small mortar and pestle out of his small satchel at his side, and ground them into a powder. He scooped up some snow and crushed it up quickly, using his own body heat to speed up the melting, until he had a small liquid mixture in his mortar. He took one large bear paw and gently lifted the mans head forward, and he brought the liquid to his lips, pouring it into his mouth and working it down his throat. Some of the concoction slipped out of this side of his mouth, but for the most part, his medicine found its mark. Thamior grunted in satisfaction. The man would be fine. His bruises would age quickly, and his blood would replenish itself rather quickly. His body's natural healing ability would triple, but he would still hurt when he woke up. Only thing left to do was to get him somewhere warm. Thamior slumped, realizing he has to go inside. Fuck.


He picked up the man and cradled him, easily able to handle the skinny lad. Down the way, he could hear another confrontation going down, seemingly with soldiers. Depending on how that went down, he might have more work on his hands. No rest for the weary. He pushed on, heading towards the large tent, the sound of revelry, and the horrid stench of humans sinning.

As he entered, he had to duck very low, entering basically 1 leg at a time, and shimmying his form through the entrance. He was, in fact, huge. 7'6 and 339llbs, he had all but surrendered any idea of blending in, and had invested everything he had into using his stature as a deterrent from most people. As he came in and stood up to his full height, he commanded an immediate amount of attention and a small silence bloomed from the front people who noticed him. He was used to it. He took the man and laid him on a nearby table, wiping off the plates and cups that were sitting idly on it earlier. One person drunk enough to misread the situation staggered forward, spitting at them. "Hey you fuckin bear. I lef' tha shiit out ther' for a.. reason! Who tol' you.."

As he spoke, Thamior turned, and literally looked down at the man, his head inches above the other person. He could see the man recognize the immediate size difference, and the look in Thamior's eyes, and he grew quiet. "I told me" He growled, his base-y voice carrying over the tent.

 

[EmeraldSplash]

‘’So it’s the same as always right? I walk in… and just lure the target out into some place and blah, blah, blah.’’

‘’Yea. Blah, blah, blah. This will be easy. It’s a Fae. Just compliment her, tell her about artifacts of sorts. You’ll have her hooked in no time.’’

‘’What’s a Fae?’’

‘’I told you not to ask. You will see for yourself.’’

‘’But how do I know it’s her if I don’t know how Faes look’’ The younger girl gave the Woodpecker a puzzled look.

The Woodpecker let out a sigh. A sigh consisted of a lot of pain and shame. ‘’She has wings…’’

‘’Wings?!’’ The girl jumped in excitement ‘’Like real wings? Awww that’s awesome.’’ suddenly her expression changed into a troubled grin. ‘’Do we really need to kill her ?’’

‘’Shut up…’’

‘’Please, please. Pretty please! It’s wings! C’mon.’’ she gave the assassin sad eyes.

‘’No. And if you don’t shut your mouth, I will strip the flesh from your bones. Wings are not special in any way.’’

‘’But. B-But.. Doriah’’ The girl froze as soon as she said the name. She closed her eyes and stopped walking.

‘’Did you just?...’’

‘’No! No! I didn’t. I’m sorry. Please. Please.’’ the girl panicked. The creatures of every kind looked at them as they were on their way into the tent-tavern.

The Woodpecker knelt down before the girl ‘’If you do your job right, I will forgive you. Viola’’

Since this moment there was no conversation being produced by neither of them.

They walked into the tent-tavern. First the woodpecker walked in and without any eyes on her she found a spot where she sat. Observing everything.
After a while of not seeing the Fae she changed positions and there she was. A beautiful Fae talking to an unknown girl. Doriah thought about a lot of things, for this sight full of beauty evoked a lot of unwanted emotions in her.

If she was born with wings. Everything would be different, wouldn’t it. She could use magic. And that’s the only thing Doriah wanted. To cast magic. To be someone. To have wings. To be accepted.

A tear slid stealthily from the Woodpecker’s eye. As soon as she noticed the warm, pitiful substance sliding down her cheek, she pulled out her dagger and held it as tightly as she could. The assassin was ready to jump and kill the artifact freak right there.
Fortunately for the Fae, Viola rushed in and came to the winged girl.

‘’Excuse me Miss, my mom wanted me to tell you that she has a really special artifact to sell to you!....’’ Viola said the information so quick she did not even notice the wings. However, when she did… ‘’So if you would ju…. you are so gorgeous ! May I touch your wings? I have never seen a Fae before you know…’’

AsterRose Melon Bomb

 

[Fred Colon]

Donovan could smell trouble brewing.
"If you don't have any coin you don't get a drink."
He felt he needed to act, get himself out of here before anything particularly untoward happened.
"So get your ass outta here and out of paying customers way if you don't have coin!"
Donovan decided to leave. Because of the trouble brewing. Yes. Not because the bartender was yelling at him and it kind of hurt his feelings that he was being so mean.
Donovan high tailed it out of the nice, warm bar, threading through patrons. He took a circuitous route around the bar as people were pouring inside. He passed a trio of young girls talking about a pipe, and almost wacked one accidentally with the coffin on his back when someone bumped him, but regained his balance just in time.
"Sorry, sorry. A little clumsy! No harm done though right?" He said as he passed.
AsterRose Melon Bomb
"Don't come back until you have money, you necrophilic freak!" The bartender called out, which Donovan found hurtful and unnecessary, and finally stomped out the embers of his good mood.
He made his way to the door until he was stopped by a huge, bear beastman. He didn't even seem to notice Donovan, and Donovan scooted around him.
"Sorry, sir. My deepest apologies didn't mean to get in your way. Just trying to use, uh, the door. You know? Haha, the one you just came in?"
He leapt when the Beastman let out a bass roar, but it wasn't intended for him and Donovan continued his valiant efforts to scuttle out of the tent unnoticed.
BugDozer73

 

[AsterRose]

Though it felt mildly invasive, Chrys listened intently to what Margaret had to say. And she was right. Creating a partnership was absolutely beneficial to both parties. They could easily split their wealth, which Chrys hoped to be bountiful. Her eyes went bright and her smile went wide. “I see, an excellent point. A partnership it is.”

As the two parted Chrys put on a nervous smile, quickly softening it to falsify her lie. “What a coincidence! Well, she’ll be delighted to have you visit. I’ll write to her once this is done-“

“Oh!” Chrys stumbled, the shadow of a coffin on someone’s back looming over her. It almost didn’t hit her, but she did find it peculiar that this was what this person was carrying. She’d have to investigate it in the future. “No harm done, it’s okay…”

Her eyes then fell on the young girl, and Chrys became intrigued.

Someone was seeking her out? She didn’t really advertise herself, unless it had gotten around by word of mouth. And in a positive light? With the number of rejections that came her way? One of her trades must have gone down well for this to happen. It was an odd feeling. Chrys had to push her way into people’s lives. She was never sought out.

She was however enlightened when the girl caught a glimpse of her wings sticking out of her coat. She pulled back a corner of it, stretching her wing out for the girl. “Alright, dear. Just don’t tug on them, unless you think you can catch me from falling.” It was shaped like a butterfly’s, very soft and round. From what the girl could see they were mostly black, but red veins creeped into it from about half way up.

Then she frowned. “Where is your mother, by the way? Could you tell me about this artefact? I’ll have to quickly check my tomes before we start, especially if it’s Curio.”

Melon Bomb Fred Colon EmeraldSplash

 

[Melon Bomb]

The beastfolk butting heads with the Rhine soldiers outside showed no signs of stopping. Arguments turned to insults, insults turned to hurled glasses, and before long their conversation had devolved into fist fighting that ended in the knight delivering more than a few bloody noses to the brave fools who tried to stroll up packing an attitude. Shaking blood from his gauntlet as though he'd laid his hands on filth, the knight glared down and sneered audibly.

"My apologies, I must have forgotten that violence is the only language you degenerates understand. Would anyone else like to come have a shot at me or are we ready to behave?"

"Piss off!" one shouted back with spittle. "Who the hell would move for scum like you? I'd rather die!"

Before the knight could muster a biting response, a low, deep rumbling suddenly shook the air like a rolling wave. Tension of conflict dissipated as quickly as it had formed, and tension of uncertainty took its place, dominated by a heavy silence. Even those inside could feel it, a sensation akin to standing underwater - an invisible current that pushed into you and nearly swept you off your feet while you remained fast in place. A savvy mage or magic researcher would immediately recognize this as spell decompression, or what happens when an extremely powerful spell loses its shape and disperses back into the atmosphere as inert magical energy.

In other words, as the few among the few may have pieced together, the seal holding the gate shut has shattered.

***

Margaret held her fingers against the wall to keep herself steady, surveying the room as she ducked down slightly.

"What the... what was that?" She breathed quietly, eyes periodically darting. "Feels like I just got hit by some kind of shockwave... they're not using explosives on the gate, are they?"

EmeraldSplash AsterRose Fred Colon BugDozer73

 

[Fred Colon]

Donovan stumbled outside, right into more trouble. A knight from Rhine was beating one of the beastmen bloody. A few of the beastmen turned on him as he stumbled out of the inn, and he doubted they looked favorably on another human, especially one that seemed much more easy to kill than the knight.
"Haha, hi. I'm not with him." Donovan pointed out, in case that was in question.

Suddenly the air began to roil, and Donovan had to steady himself as the body inside his coffin seemed to give a lurch. Everyone was looking up to the gate, now, and Donovan had an urge to follow them. But he knew what that feeling was. Spell Decompression. And one that powerful could have only come from one place...
"Bury me." The Coffin told him, a sound like funeral finery brushing across the surface of his mind.

"I know. I know." Donovan whispered. He had no idea what was on the other side of that gate, but he knew it was going to be different and strange. People didn't seem to get that, he'd come to find in his travels here. It wasn't going to be some forest that no one had seen before. Not just a new hill for kids to run up and explore.

This coffin had come from inside, Donovan was almost sure. It was related to whatever was on the other side, at least. And if that was true, things were going to be much, much worse than anyone expected.

Donovan shut his eyes, trying to block out the fear that had suddenly seized him, but the Gate seemed to be radiating it. He knew it was just his own mind, but some part of him wasn't sure about that and all attempts to use logic to reason with it failed. He just had to stand and breathe, stand and breathe. He must be looking like an utter fool to the people around him.

Eventually he opened his eyes again. The fear had abated to a cold and lonely concession. He would do what needed to be done.
"Time to get walking!" He said with a huge false grin and too much enthusiasm. Lying to himself and pretending to be happy had never worked in the past, but why not try to see if it worked this time?

 

[EmeraldSplash]

“Where is your mother, by the way? Could you tell me about this artefact? I’ll have to quickly check my tomes before we start, especially if it’s Curio.”

''Oh dear miss thank you for allowing me.'' Viola said as she touched the Fae's wing. And she was astonished. The most beautiful creature she now had in front of her eyes, however a great sadness she felt for she had to be an accomplice of a crime that was about to come. But was it really worth it? Was it something she could live with? She thought.

Looking at the artifact freak with a wholesome feeling of hope in her eyes she stuttered. ''Y-you , miss you ,y-you are in danger. Please run. Please. I will be dead in a mome-...'' She could not finish what she tried to say, however, she delivered a warning. That was all she wanted. The interruption came suddenly. A rumbling wave of air hanged in the area. Viola knelt down and placed her hands on her ears. She could not say whether she was shaking or if it was the ground.

Doriah watched the conversation. Using all of her patience she could have spared. However as soon as Viola warned the Fae, a immense disappointment ran through the assassin's veins. And as soon as the air along with the ground started shaking, she stood calm and balanced.

Although she decided that this would be the time to make the move, considering that the Fae had been warned of upcoming danger, she did not do anything just yet.

Melon Bomb AsterRose

 

[BugDozer73]

Thamior stared the man down more, who respectively shrunk away from his presence. Thamior grunted, satisfied with this outcome, and as he turned to walk back out of the tent, he felt the surge. His fur ruffled slightly, and as those around him shook and coward and turned and covered their ears, Thamior readjusted his straps and packs, and wiped his nose nonchalantly. While they recovered, he headed outside, following a curious boy with a coffin behind him. It was unusual for humans to anticipate their own death like this, but Thamior couldn't help but respect the forethought it showed. He grunted in satisfaction, then continued out the door, and back out into the nippy spring air.

The snow had blustered up with the force of the decompression, fluttering around like a shimmering snow globe, and Thamior could see where the wind was whipping from. In truth, his nonchalant behavior was not due to his being a blood chimera, practiced thoroughly in magic, or by some air of importance; Rather, he came here with a job in mind, one that required him to go beyond that gate, and one that he was focused on. And so with that, he simply walked forward, his paws crunching over the now disturbed snow, towards a monument that he knew nothing of and cared little about the ignorance.

 

[Melon Bomb]

Onlookers breathed hot air into their freezing hands and began to gather tightly together for warmth, standing stupefied before the colossal gate that towered over them. The deathly chill that fell upon the travelers at Tuamin Mountain could not be described as a simple effect of nature. No, its was far, far more sinister - like the air of an exhumed sarcophagus, wretched with the odor of godly idols forgotten to time and left to rot. Such an overpowering, indescribable feeling washed over the crowds as the unspoken boundary between two worlds unceremoniously dissolved.

And as quickly as it had come, the feeling too, disappeared. Efforts began for everyone to heave into the gate and push its doors open while priests at the forefront raved and clawed at the men and women who dared lay hands upon the sacred metal. But their cries fell on deaf ears, and their feeble attempts to pry the water from the waves was equally lost to the sea of voices and energy that carried the group forward.

"Heathens! Heathens!" foamed one, smashing his bony fist into his holy text. "You are defying the will of our gods! Back, back, all of you! Your foolishness will be our destruction!" Someone kicked the man in the leg with the force of a club, sending him careening into the snow as his knee buckled.

"Shut the hell up, you sack of dust!" A wad of spit hit the priest of the Holy Gate. "Nobody cares about your delusional racket!"

Dozens upon dozens of bodies rammed into the gate, each strike nudging the gate open inch by inch. Its fixture slowly but surely began to give way until they were now able to properly push the doors, guiding them to either side while the thunderous groan of its hinges screeched over the winds. Margaret slipped out of the tavern to catch a peek, eyes wide and watching with bated breath as she gripped the wooden porch railing with her gloved hands. After thousands of years of speculation and and mystery, one of the world's oldest legends was finally revealing its hand - and she would be a witness to history unfolding before her very eyes.

The doors reached their ends. The chatter simmered down. The gate was open.

"It's... it's pitch black inside..." Whispers were hastily exchanged among one another, uncertain of what to make of it. As far as the eye could see, only an eerie darkness stared back at them. No lights, no sounds, nothing. Was it a chamber of some kind? Torches and lanterns were raised up, cautiously pushing past the open gateway. They were able to make out that the floor was dirt - a clean visual divide from the snow covered ground they stood upon, but even with the light they could see nothing else.

Nobody seemed eager to go inside first.

Nobody, except a young girl with a wooden staff in hand and a very large backpack. Margaret weaved her way between the bystanders and casually walked inside several steps before coming to a stop and turning around to address everyone.

She took a deep breath. She exhaled. And paused a few moments.

It's okay. Everything is going to be fine. You got this.

Margaret closed her eyes and spoke.

"I know my way around." She maintained her strongest poker face as she made her declaration, convincing probably no one. Clearly the makings of a pathological liar, and a bad one at that. But, she made sure there was no awkward silence taking over her dialogue and calmly pressed on with a warm smile. "I'm looking to put a group together. If you watch my back, I can be your guide on the inside - you won't find anyone else like that here. Easy stuff, huh? If anyone's interested just come forward, and if not... well, I suppose I'll be seeing you all later."

Margaret swallowed nervously, slowly opening her eyes to a quiet audience. Okay, now there was awkward silence.

EmeraldSplash AsterRose Fred Colon BugDozer73

 

[Fred Colon]

Donovan hadn't known what he had been expecting but the darkness behind the get checked out. His nightmares had indicated it would be something like, this, or at least something about as terrible. He adjusted the straps on his coffin and frowned.

What he hadn't expected, however, was the young girl to take the first step inside and offer her services as a guide. It was... Strange.... To say the least. She didn't seem sure in herself at all, which didn't inspire confidence, but rather than put him off as it should have, it made him feel sympathy. Uncertainty was basically Donovan's default state.

A silence fell at the girls words. Everyone staring at her, and she staring back at them. Donovan felt his heart speed up in simulated embarassment. How would he feel if he plucked up the nerve to make a speech in front of so many people and nobody even said anything?

"Could, uh, I go with you?" He said like an idiot, raising his hand as if he was in grade school and smiling broadly. He didn't know this girl, and sympathy or no he had something to do! But he stepped forwards anyway and stood next to her, feeling the eyes of entire nation's worth of people in him. He wouldn't like it to be left all alone like this.
"My name's Donovan." He said to the girl, and then looked back at the crowd. "Uh. My name's Donovan?" He said louder, and then felt like an even bigger moron for introducing himself to a crowd like that for no reason. The silence was just unbearable. He had to fill it with something.
"Not, uh, not what I was expecting." He clapped his hands together, shifted in place and then awkwardly pointed up at the gate, in case someone didn't know what he was talking about.
Melon Bomb EmeraldSplash AsterRose BugDozer73

 

[AsterRose]

Chrys barely narrowed her eyes at the girl’s warning before the sensation overcame her. She was about to leap up, stumbling instead as she realised how her coat weighed her wings down. It thumbed through Chrys’s thin body like an uppercut, which she had admittedly experienced before.

But she knew what it was. Her violet eyes shot open as it finally stopped, “Decompression…” Chrys turned giddy as she pieced together what was happening. “The gate’s opened!” Clumsily twirling on the spot and squealing, she stumbled into the people around her who were trying to still make sense of it all, while others had already started running. “Margaret, let’s go!”

She stopped. “Margaret?” She had gone from her spot on the window.

Chrys knelt down next to the girl. “You might need to find your mother again now. She’ll be waiting for you, surely. We can resume business if we see each other in the gate again.”

She then became one of the forces trying to cram themselves out of the tavern door. Her body was thin enough to slide through, but she felt her wings crease between some of the rougher folk. How she wished the doorframe were high enough for her to fly through. When she finally emerged into the cold, quickly pulling a knitted hat from her satchel, she noticed the growing crowd. They surrounded the door like insects to a carcass. Chrys approached the back, her tiny body unable to see above the crowd even when jumping.

Wincing, she took her coat off. A strong chill threaded up her body as she shook and stretched her wings out. She then kept up into the air, drifting over the crowd and setting herself down near the front. She ignored the insults thrown her way as she put her coat back on, happy just to be a little bit warmer.

Then she realised the darkness. Nobody was entering the gate. Then what was all the fuss about? Seriously. She’d seen people diving for far less greater phenomena. This was ridiculous!

Only one stepped forward. “Margaret!” She called out to her as she finished her speech, then turning back to the rest of the crowd as she too faced the mouth of the door.

She eyes each of them out with eyes colder than the climate. Let them feel guilty, she grinned. “Cowards,” she said. “You fantasied over the day this would happen, and yet you won’t even take a step forward! Someone else has to do it for you. I don’t think any of you really wish for greatness.”

As one man joined the two of them, she was intrigued. “Except perhaps him,” she noted under her breath.

Chrys then grinned at the rest of the ever silent crowd, save a few who maybe muttered at her comments. “Three out of many. How pathetic.”

Melon Bomb Fred Colon BugDozer73 EmeraldSplash

 

[BugDozer73]

Thamior stood with his arms crossed, watching placidly as the people surged forward like panicked wolves, bleating paws fleeing from a stampede, or an angry blood chimera. He looked on, and only furrowed his brow when he the gates were fully opened, revealing a dark, and damp interior. From deep behind the crowd, even with his immense stature, he could not see earth, but he could feel it with his mana, and that gave him a surprising sense of relief. As he stood there, taking in the situation, he made notice of the fact that everyone froze. Most animals with no plan rush forward on instinct thinking it forethought, and then they freeze when they realize they know nothing. But then, a curious little girl, with a hat much too large and a stick stood forward, in front of all the sheep, and she spoke, like a Shepard.

It wasn't her confidence that took him, but rather the lack of fear, and he could smell lots of it, but none on her. There is something that separates the alphas from the betas, and deltas and omegas, and it is a law respected by nature. Humans themselves, though they think themselves too smart for it, are bound by an intrinsic sense that is the same, and they live their lives according to and unbeknownst to it. That predators can smell fear, and they leave when they do not. The humans would look at her and see her as small, and as weak, but Thamior knew better. Those who came next, were not quite cut of the same cloth. The coffin boy, and a new girl, a fae. Typically, he liked fae, for they had more sense about them and cared for the earth, but this one was noisy and curt, and she smelled of old nick-naks. Something about her reminded Thamior of a child that caused trouble for attention, and it evoked an involuntary sigh, that he heaved with his whole being, letting out a thick cloud of steam in front of him. He would, however, need a guide to find his answers, and the girl he knew was trustworthy, or at least worth monitoring. Now how to get through the crowds? He could either shove the little ones aside, or...

He hated the flashiness of it, but it was practical in sense, and he also got an embarrassing amount of pleasure out of drawing gasps from humans. And so his bridge of earth extended over the crowds and to the front, and he crossed at a leisurely pace, listening in straight faced satisfaction to the exclamations from the people. When at last he had reached the small group gathering, he looked down on the people he now towered over, completely ignoring the crowd, and the two people next to the self proclaimed "Margret".

"Hello, little one. You may call me Thamior. I will keep you company, in exchange for your experience." He smiled quietly and nodded his respects to her. It had been some time since he had been intrigued like this.

Melon Bomb AsterRose Fred Colon

 

[EmeraldSplash]

Viola’s eyes teared up as she heard that she should go find her mother, the girl’s arms and legs started shaking as she saw the Fae rushing out. Turning to the Woodpecker she lost all hope of ever regaining her trust.

‘’I’m sorry’’ she hanged her head low.

Doriah stood up and walked up the the small girl ‘’Fucking useless’’ and she gave her a punch right onto her left cheek. Incapacitating the small girl in a flash. The Woodpecker then proceeded to pick her up and carried her on her shoulder.

‘’Oh girl. I don’t want to kill you, I really don’t. But you cannot be doing this stuff…’’ the assassin said with pain staining her voice.

What to do, what to do… So she is going through the gate, so that means that I have to follow her. But… it… it doesn’t seem like anyone is eager to go… Okay so probably there would be groups formed like that’s the thing that happens naturally. So I just have to follow or join the group that she is in and once the time comes, a slight misstep, a slight separation. She’ll bleed. Oh boy, okay. Let’s go.

The white-coated assassin walked out of the tavern-tent and advanced through the crowd.

As she came at the end-line of the crowd. The line that divided the Fae, the girl from earlier, some random man and a creature of sorts from the crowd. She did not even think twice before letting her mouth loose.

She progressed forward ‘’ I’m joining too. You’ll need a extra pair of hands, well’’ pointing at Viola on her shoulder ‘’Two extra pair of hands.’’

‘’You’ll see that my use is to kill.’’

‘’Nothing more, nothing less but to kill’’ she said looking at the Fae.

Fred Colon Melon Bomb AsterRose BugDozer73

 

[Melon Bomb]

With that, the small motley crew of adventurers came to an agreement. Margaret breathed a sigh of relief, leaning into her staff for support. She was quite accustomed to joining the ranks of raiding parties in the past, but this was the first time she would take on a leadership role. It was good that she found people to partner up with, but the responsibility of her position only just now dawned upon her.

"Okay... we're really, really in this together now, right?" she said, pointing a finger to the rest of her little group with a raised brow. It wasn't an accusatory remark, but something to reassure herself that they wouldn't abruptly part ways when they felt like it. Sticking to the main traveling group was out of the question for her, but she didn't want to end up all alone either. "No take-backs? Good. My name is Margaret, by the way, in case you missed it. It's nice to meet you all."

"We will march on with or without your 'guidance'." The Rhine knight from earlier trotted forward on his horse, torch light flickering off of his pristine steel armor. His men in the back followed in suit, keeping their fluttering banners high up for all to see. Great, looks like they were going to have company...

"Well, if you're so confident, then surely you won't mind leading in front of us?" Margaret tested, tapping her staff nonchalantly against her shoulder.

"I don't like your tone, little girl," the knight spat, glaring at her behind his visor. "I am Sir Rovane, proud knight of house Trialle. Know to whom you speak, child." She stuck out her tongue in response, making a mocking gesture with her hands. "Whatever, tin man!

"Alright, come on, let's go," she said hastily, smiling as she gave each of her new pals a solid pat on the back. "We can save proper introductions for later, for now it's best we just keep moving. You'll see why later." Hoisting up a glowing lantern, Margaret gestured for them to follow her lead as she walked into the darkness. The platoon of Rhine soldiers tailed a short distance behind them, while the rest of the rabble continued to talk amongst themselves outside of the gate. Soft lantern light illuminated their way across the rocky dirt, occasionally catching on some small rocks but otherwise revealing nothing else about their surroundings. Despite finally crossing that threshold, the world itself seemed to deprive information from them - though in a sense, a lack of information could be considered information as well. No sun, no stars... but clearly, they were still outdoors - the presence of a natural breeze was unmistakable.

"Careful around these parts," Margaret said, looking over her shoulder to make sure everyone was staying attentive. She held her lantern out to show where the ground seemed to disappear into nothingness. "We're on a cliff. Try not to fall off, okay?"

EmeraldSplash AsterRose Fred Colon BugDozer73

 

[Fred Colon]

Donovan was anxious to get moving but when Margaret mentioned 'cliff' he got a sudden sense of vertigo. When she showed how the ground seemed to vanish, his blood ran cold as he imagined falling in this strange, dark place. Would he be able to get back up? He wasn't sure, but his mind told him that no, he wouldn't if he fell. The dark would swallow him.

He instinctually reached out in front and behind him, in an attempt to form a fortifying chain.
He grabbed onto the large Beastman's fur ahead of him, he could tell in the dark because it was fur, and he thought he grabbed onto the woman who claimed she could kill things. He was vaguely afraid of being stabbed, as all rational beings were, but falling into an abyss of nothingness overrode his fear of the pain the woman might inflict.

"Hey, uh, I know what we could do. We could, uh, grab onto each other! Right? Make sure we're all on track. It's awfully dark. I know some songs we could sing, too. Walking songs!" He said, words pouring from his mouth. "I know some good ones, this short little guy, I forget his name, Bolbo or something, taught this one to me;" and Donovan began to sing,

"Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed,
But not yet weary are our feet---"
Until his foot caught on a rock and he nearly stumbled off the edge, dragging at the two he was trying to hold onto.
"Woa. Uh. Oops. Sorry. We didn't fall of though, right? No harm no foul. And sorry about all the noise, I, uh, talk when I'm nervous. "

EmeraldSplash AsterRose Melon Bomb BugDozer73

 

[AsterRose]

The cold already reducing, Chrys relaxed further beneath her jacket. That one moment of flight had her wings begging for more, but she wasn’t ready to do so just yet. Not to mention the risk of cliffs Margaret mentioned, and how awkward her feet still felt in these boots. She knew she’d shiver if she kept the coat off for long, so she didn’t abandon it yet. As she clung close to Margaret she observed the rest of the group.

The human male, Donovan he said his name was, was awfully polite and talkative, but not in an annoying way. Chrys quite liked his chatter and song. If she knew it she would’ve sung along with him to offer reassurance. Instead she offered him a smile from across their little gathering.

Next she noticed the beast folk. There wasn’t a lot to him yet. He was another magic user, like her, and she was a little bit jealous. His magic was earth based, and she could smell it on him. Far more versatile than her own, too. He acted kinder than his stature let on. Chrys wasn’t willing to interrogate his mind to find more about him yet, to see if that was true about him.

Lastly was the human in white and the girl on her shoulders. The same girl from earlier. Her mother? She looked too young. Perhaps an older sister, then. When she first approached the gate, of course she noticed the look given to her. A look of recognition, no doubt. She could easily discuss the deal further with her once they rested, if it was still on.

Chrys picked a rock absently off the ground, running her fingers over it as she walked down. Fiddling with objects often helped her keep a steady mind. But as she stared into the abyss below, she grew curious.

“I wonder…” She tossed the rock into the depths below, waiting to hear it’s fall. At least then she’d know much farther they’d have to go.

Melon Bomb EmeraldSplash Fred Colon BugDozer73

 

[EmeraldSplash]

As the cliff revealed itself by the little girl's words, the assassin began to breathe a little bit faster. Although she was skilled in many ways of agility, she never got rid of the the feeling. The one feeling that most living beings have. Fear. The woman in white learnt to control her fear with years of practice. Does that mean that she got used to it ? Yes. Was it less scary? No.

The group was weird for her standards, however she found a sense of security among them. That was a thing she hated, for the last thing you want to feel when you are on your way to kill someone is the feeling of being weirdly safe.

With Viola on her shoulder, there was a lot more balancing to do but she managed fine. The Fae met Viola however Doriah thought that the Fae would think that she is her sister or her mother which benefited her.

The beast man was a problem. She knew that overpowering him is probably out of question for the massive size of his body, and so she thought about something of a plan on how to deal with the situation.

Margaret was a quite rare individual, The Woodpecker felt encouraged by her words and felt a sudden feeling of strange similarity to her own early life personality.

Then there was a guy with a coffin on his back. Definitely the weirdest one yet. A coffin? Why? What? Is somebody in there ? Is it his own?
Anyway, she watched him closely and came up with a conclusion. A clumsy adventurer, looking for something he longs for. Heart-warming but not really.

A sudden rush of adrenaline stopped in a flash. The fear of height disappeared as she caught a swift reminiscence of an old melody, coming from Donovan's lips.
The rush of the adrenaline stayed still even when she saw Donovan nearly slip and fall. She could not do anything even if he was about to fall into the darkness and die. She was too calm.
However she did not know what it was. Maybe a memory? A fantasy?

She lowered her head and started softly singing.

''Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone...

That none have seen ... but ... we alone ...?

​

AsterRose Fred Colon Melon Bomb BugDozer73