Fantasy Hunter's Moon: The Sin & Sentence [IC] [CLOSED]

[Infab]

Cat glanced over to Hudson as he stood next to his seat. "I believe she was trying to get at the concept of redemption...I've heard of cases of condemned souls redeeming themselves in various ways. Even those that have commited mortal sins, or have already been cast down here." explained the succubus as she discarded the empty bottle that Riberta had drank from. "It hasn't happened in a long time...but I know its happened. Maybe that's something you should go after, instead of resigning yourself to a horrible fate. You owe it to no one, Mr. Hudson, to be sent here. And you don't belong here."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Jakob sighed as he watched Mariette storm off, soon followed by Riberta as Hudson continued to defend his lunacy. Jakob was done for today. He was tired, and had enough of questioning his companions. He finished his drink, and gave Colette a friendly look. "I hope you have a good day, Colette... I'll make sure to get out of here...and help Theo find the man responsible of this." Hudson, who kept defending the fact that regardless of his survival, he'd end up here made Jakob roll his eyes. "...Shut up, Hudson. Go to bed." he said, before walking away from the bar.

Ser Edmond did not say anything. He simply watched as everyone stormed off the bar. He sighed, shaking his head as a slight smile formed on his lips. "I missed this bickering..." he said to those still present, mainly Cat and Colette. Knowing Hudson cared little for his words. "...Reminds me of a time when I used to be younger. Even after my transformation, I was prone to bickering... but a thousand years improves ones judgement." The Nosferatu looked down, letting out a soft chuckle. "...Of course, even ten centuries is not enough to make infallible judgment." He walked a few steps away, before looking down at Hudson. "...You should consider what you truly want for your afterlife, Lord Hudson... for the Abyss is no longer a realm of atonement through punishment. It's now a perverted and twisted version of our world. Here, you won't make up for those you have killed." Edmond glanced to Cat, nodding in agreement with what she said, before departing from the bar himself.

 

[K0mori]

Coming into the cabin, Mariette saw Cassandra and paused for a moment. Her mind was troubled after repeatedly defending her refusal to cheat death, although she didn't find her thoughts clear enough to justify waking her friend. She didn't know that Cass was still awake, and thinking about how tired she was herself, she decided to remain alone with her thoughts for now. She shuddered as tears rolled down her cheeks; it was easier to release, now that she was away from the judgement of others.

If only I were crippled, she thought as she crawled into bed. Perhaps if I were blind, or something of that nature, I could trust myself to go with them.

If only I were human.

She lay awake in bed for a while, sniffling quietly as she tried to prepare herself to say goodbye to her friends and relegate herself to eternal damnation- the same exact decision she had made once before. This time, it would be even harder. She was friends with some of the inquisitors, and admired their tenacity and moral fortitude, but she had only known them for a short time before her death. Cassandra, on the other hand, had been a constant companion for decades. Perhaps she would wait, for however many years it takes, for Cassandra to return to the Abyss. Or maybe she would allow herself to become hollow quickly, to end the pain as soon as possible.

At least Ser Edmond would remain. She would not be entirely alone in the end.

 

[Dmaster]

Hudson scoffed at Jakob as he finished his drink, shaking his head with disappointment. He was unmoved by Cat's talk of redemption as he slid his bottle and glass toward her, standing as one of the only remaining people in the room with the loss of Jakob. "Redemption doesn't sound like its something that's up to me, let alone her." the hunter replies to both Edmond and Cat

"For better or for worse it's up to Velin. But I don't want a free pass just because I did something like join her order. I want to be judged as fairly as any other murderer or mercenary. Given how Velin's been judging others..." he glances to Colette, having recalled her story as he shook his head again. "I don't see that happening."

"I'll do as I always have. So long as I can still fight, I'll rid the world of monsters that hope to kill innocent people. Whatever happens to me is irrelevant, in the end." With those final words Hudson began to take his leave, retrieving his half-helmet before returning to his room for some rest.

 

[Infab]

As Mariette lay in bed, Cassandra would eventually turn slightly to look across the lavish room to where Mariette's bed was. She wanted to go over and sit with her, and try to talk to her. To stop the crying. But she knew what this was about, and Cassandra didn't know what to say.

She got it. Mariette was afraid of herself, in a way. She was afraid that if she left this place...those evil thoughts and drives would come creeping back into her head. The drives to do something dispicable. Cassandra knew those thoughts all too well, as those were all she had for several centuries...if she even thought at all. Mariette didn't want to be that kind of person...that kind of vampire.

Finally, Cassandra shifted in bed, rolling over and sitting up on the side of her bed to face her friend. "...Mariette?" she said softly, "...Before you slip off to dreamland, do you mind telling me a little about the basics of magic? And how to read that...grimoire of yours?" Cassandra had never really shown a large interest in practicing magic growing up, even when her family had a battlemage stay with them for a summer. But for her, she'd make an exception. Especially if it would cheer her friend up a bit by taking her mind of things.

 

[K0mori]

"Didn't I already...?" Mariette began to reply after hastily drying her tears, but then she realized what Cassandra was trying to do. Mariette had already taught her the basics of magic when they were in captivity, during the same time Cass had taught her how to properly sword fight. Either she had forgotten it all, or, more likely, she had never been interested in the first place. But now, Cass was trying cheer her up. Mariette silently wondered for a moment how long her friend had heard her quietly weeping before speaking up. Perhaps she had never been sleeping to begin with. There was no point in wondering whether Cass knew why she was crying; it was obvious.

She sat up and fumbled for the grimoire. "Ah, well... I suppose we could start again," she said as she stepped out of bed and sat down on the floor. Cassandra soon joined her so that they could see the pages together. "It's important you know these things, in case I have to pass this on to you," Mariette began. She opened the cover, revealing the first of its many elaborately decorated pages. Drawn in gold-colored ink over top of a fine, delicately-written script in faded black, which covered the entire paper, was an eight-pointed star contained within a circle. At the tip of each point, where it met the edge of the circle, was a hexagonal extension which contained a phase of the moon. Five black spots - bloody fingerprints - stained the page.

"This is the pact, the beginning of any functional grimoire. The author must inscribe their dark desires within, as an offering to the evil spirits which lend their aid. It is a sort of alliance... you are enticing them to act. They will respond to many callings, from mischief to murder. But curses, hexes, those are among their favorite. Then, you must go under the moon, read the pact aloud, and then seal it with blood - preferably your own," she said, planting her hand on the page so that her fingertips matched up with the bloody print. "I can still feel the power of this book's owner through her seal. This one was created by Undite herself, just like the one she gave me in Grimtham. Once a grimoire is created, it can serve as a gateway for any user, so it is important to safeguard it.

"The phases of the moon are recognized by dark witches and wizards for their association to the crafts," she continued. "The new moon is illusion, the full moon: mysticism. The half moons are destruction when waning, and restoration when waxing. The waxing crescent is alteration, the waning is thaumaturgy, and the two gibbous moons are conjuration and enchantment, waxing and waning, respectively. Those are the eight crafts, each with its own purpose. When dealing with the devilish forces of witchcraft, it's important to remember that not every action needs be some act of evil. Over time, as you master the art, you can skillfully direct these wild spirits to work for the greater good. It doesn't always work, but when it does, it takes... negotiation."

Mariette then went on to explain how to find a useful spell. The book was divided into eight sections of varying sizes, each section identifiable by its moon phase sigil at the top, and each spell identified by a larger sigil drawn onto the page. The shapes present in the larger spell sigil denoted the general purpose of the spell, so that one flipping through the pages could immediately spot one which matched their desired outcome. The specific incantation was included in hand-written script across the entire page, just like the seal at the beginning of the book. "Most spells are gathered from existing tomes, where they lie dormant until one adds them to a proper grimoire, but it is also possible to create them yourself by modifying the incantation of an existing spell or curse," she explained, a dark smile appearing on her face as she spoke.

"You will quickly learn what you can and cannot handle, what words garner the spirits' sympathy and which do not, and the limitations of dark magic itself. But when you have found a spell good enough to keep, you find a page in the proper section, record the incantation, and mark the sigil." She then closed the book and let out a loud yawn. "Start small, ma sœur," she warned. "If your incantation calls upon the lake of fire, you will get the whole lake. Now, I am very tired, I will show you more tomorrow, if we have the chance." She stood and walked back to her bed, sitting down at the edge of it. She was still smiling, but it had already faded the moment the "lesson" was concluded.

It still felt so strange, being free from the chains that burned her flesh with silver shackles, and yet missing the comfort Cassandra's company had brought her every night of her captivity. She wondered if her counterpart felt the same way, but was afraid to ask. "...Cass," she finally said, "would it be alright if we shared a bed?"

 

[Infab]

Cassandra listened attentively, far moreso than she had before. Of course, Mariette had explained these things to her before...several times...but this was the first time she genuinely listened. And it helped to have an actual visual aide, of course, to look at. So this belonged to Undite? How many does she have? Dozens? It was certainly filled to the brim with an assortment of spells, a few mentioning a staff here and there. Maybe it acted as a focusing device?

As Mariette closed the book, Cassandra stood up with a smile. "It seems we will be going quite a distance, so we'll have plenty of time...I'm quite interested in knowing more." she replied. But then Mariette posed a question.

"...Cass, would it be alright if we shared a bed?"

Cassandra looked a bit surprised. They had been shackled together for thirty years, never being more than two or three feet away at all times. They slept next to one another, bathed practically at the same time, fed together. Everything was done together. And having been freed from their bonds....Cassandra did miss being around her. Cassandra smiled again after a few moments, and nodded. "That would be nice, yes." she softly replied. After making her own bed back up, she returned and sat down next to Mariette on her bed.

---​

"Well, when it's time for Thorgran to collect and you have nothing to give... sometimes they'll make an agreement... if you beg hard enough."

Vincent's eyes widened a bit, before finally muttering an "Oh...I see..." They brand you and use you as snacks when they get hungry. Horrible. He looked away, cutting Gwen a look as she spoke of the Angels. "They try to keep out of mortal affairs unless they absolutely have to intervene...the Age of Darkness being one of those situations."

 

[K0mori]

With Cass at her side again, Mariette visibly relaxed, even letting out a quiet chuckle as she nudged her friend with her shoulder. "After all we've been through," she confided, "I cannot believe how very thankful I am that I met you."

It wasn't long after that the two finally fell asleep.

 

[Infab]

Vincent's group would continue on through the village, avoiding more beggars as well as the few random guards that made their presence known. Finally, they decided to stop inside of a small abandoned shop. It seemed secure enough, wedged between two other empty shops and featuring a second floor which appeared safe enough to support their weight and movements. They would camp here for now, so that they could formulate a plan for getting into Thorgran's palace in Tehom. That was the easy part, really, as Loque already knew of various ways in. The issue was getting through Tehom to the palace. The way out would likely need to be worked out as well, as there wasn't a train terminal that they could use to get away. They would likely have to capture a wagon or something from the local guard, and rush as fast as they could to the border into Keggoth's realm. There, they could locate a train terminal, and escape to the Land of Dead Kings.

As night fell, camp was made on the second floor, in what appeared to be an old storage room for the actual shop downstairs. Extra precautions were taken to keep an eye out for guards, with two sitting on watch at all times. They would swap during the night with two others, so that all could sleep at least a bit during the night.

But there wouldn't be any proper sleep this night, as two of the group had some two very personal matters to deal with.

---
​

After deciding to wander the passenger car a bit to calm herself, Riberta decided to make her way back the room where the girls of the group would be sleeping aboard the train. and when she stepped inside, she glanced over to see that Cassandra was no longer in her bed. Instead, she was in Mariette's bed, the pair of vampires huddled together. Riberta simply raised an eyebrow. Old habits, she guessed. She moved to her bed, shedding her clothes before slipping into her own bed. Time for rest...and hopefully no nightmares.

---
​

"Lady Cassandra Bainbridge, of House Bainbridge." said Cassandra, performing a graceful bow. She hated curtsying, preferring to bow or simply offer her hand as a greeting. Her mother often demanded her to wear a dress and curtsy, but it would be a hot day in the Abyss before that happened. So here she was, dressed rather boyish with a rapier hanging at her hip. If it wasn't for her long blonde hair, hints of makeup, and feminine figure, she'd easily pass for a well dressed lord. The handsome young man before her nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Lady Bainbridge. David Fletcher. Senior Inquisitor of the Vigilant Order." he replied, flashing Cassandra a smile.

"I hope your journey here was nice. Its not often we get esteemed visitors such as yourself at the Bainbridge estate. Often we meet anyone invited to visit my father at Castle Dorchester." said Cassandra, turning about and motioning towards the large, extravagant mansion before her. "It was pleasant, really. Dorchester has always had a beautiful countryside." he stated, walking forth from the carriage that he had just stepped out of.

Cassandra walked at his side, shifting her wide brimmed hat a little as she looked to David. "Where did you venture here from? Eternis?" she asked.

"Stonebank, actually. I concluded an investigation into rumors of vampires in the area there."

"Vampires? Interesting. Did you find any? Or was it simply rumors?"

"We found three. A priest, and two nuns. I think they find a little humor in converting holy men and women."

"Certainly seems that way...I've often considered joining the Order. The tales I've heard over the years from both my father and from guests we have over at Castle Dorchester have always fascinated me. Vampires, Werebeasts, Demons, Fallen Angels...then there's the tales of the Order putting Taranoch and his ilk back into the Abyss. Heroic."

David smiled. "It is indeed heroic. The tale of the Five Templar Saints is what inspired me to join." he said, glancing to Cassandra. "...You seem as though you would make an excellent candidate...I might try and talk your father into allowing me to take you to Eternis. Show you around the Grand Cathedral and the halls of the Order."

Cassandra's eyes widened, and she nodded. "Yes, that would be wonderful! Please, talk to him!"

Soon, they arrived at the estate's main entrance, and Cassandra showed David inside. The servants tended to him quite quickly, allowing Cassandra to slip away from him. Quite a handsome fellow. Certainly doesn't look like he'd be an inquisitor, but he is. She ventured up the dark wood steps, ascending up to the third floor of the mansion. And after venturing through several rooms and halls, she finally arrived at the door she had been looking floor. "Elizabeth!" she called out, rapidly tapping on the large white double doors. "I'm getting dressed!" was the response from the other side.

Cassandra made a face, before shoving the doors open and slipping inside. The woman across the room, half naked, gasped loudly. "Oh shut it, you. Me getting dressed has never stopped you from entering my room!" said Cassandra, as she made sure the doors were shut just as before. She spun around, strolling across the room around the massive gold accented bed, stepping over to where Elizabeth was standing. "At least I give you a moment first!" replied Elizabeth Bainbridge with a faint chuckle, as she continued working to get her dress on.

"Our guest has already arrived, Elizabeth, so you might want to dress a little faster." responded Cassandra, taking her hat off and setting it on the bed. "I know, I know! I heard the carriage!" she responded. She seemed to be struggling to get a corset on. Cassandra sighed. "Turn around, sister. I'll help you."

Elizabeth spun around, and it only took a few seconds before Cassandra had laced up the corset and pulled it tight. "There we are." she said, stepping away before speaking again. "...Remember when you didn't wear all that...fluff and lace? Back when we were children?" she said, smiling as she glanced over towards the mirror nearby. "Yes, I remember...we had more fun back then. Always together, usually harassing the estate staff or the guards at the castle." responded Elizabeth, glancing to her sister.

Cassandra chuckled before sighing. "...I miss those times." she said, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Elizabeth went quiet for a moment, before stepping over and hugging Cassandra. "...I know, Cass. I do too." She then released her, looking into the mirror herself. "...Remember how I was when I first came here? I was maybe five...clothed in rags, malnourished, dead look in my eyes..."

Cassandra nodded. "...Yes. It took me just a day to get you to talk to me...three to get you to eat something." she said softly, looking over towards Elizabeth in the mirror. Elizabeth smiled. "I was playing with you within a week...and we became best friends. Sisters too." she replied. Cassandra smiled back, before shifting a bit and hugging Elizabeth close again. "Well, lets finish getting you all dressed up and fancy."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Right. Now where did I put that hoop." she said, looking about as she pulled away from Cassandra. Cassandra smirked. "I always thought the whole hoop thing was stupid." she stated, before glancing back to the mirror.

A different version of herself stared back.

---
​

Cassandra's eyes snapped open, darting about as she physically twitched. What the hell was that!? She laid there for a few moments, before breathing a sigh. Just a dream gone sour. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Riberta was already back in the room, asleep in her own bed. She certainly snuck in here. Surprising for a hulk like her. She rolled back into her previous position, facing Mariette. She then shut her eyes once more. Let's have no more repeats of that particular part of my dream.

 

[Viper Actual]

Seriphine hummed to herself in a low tone. The others were asleep after a particularly long day. Glancing at them, and Vincent in particular, she nodded to herself. They still had a difficult task ahead of them and would need every little bit of sleep they could get. Using a metal pole snapped in two that had been lying downstairs on the floor Seriphine stoked the fire slowly and gently. She tried to avoid looking directly into the flames as to prevent herself from losing whatever night vision she had. In the event that someone did come charging she would be the first one out the door, giving the others enough time to scramble and prepare themselves for combat.

The Elf sniffed. One of the others, the masked vampire, was currently on watch as well. Unlike Seriphine however he had made the decision to watch the perimeter from outside. His absence was all the same to her. Perhaps he enjoyed the chill of a cold night's air or perhaps he was simply a loner. In all honesty she didn't know him that well and she didn't really care that much either.

Just as she had finished her train of thought the very same vampire came back inside. His dark clothing blended near-perfectly with the dancing shadows of the fire and as he seated himself on the other side of it Seriphine tilted her head.

"Anything outside?" She asked with a low tone as to not wake the others.

 

[KRIY]

Wesley stood comfortably as he volunteered to take watch for the night while the others would take a rest from their journey. Wesley can’t remember the last time he felt tired when he became a vampire, because the perks of being the creature of night meant that you’d have superhuman strength and endurance and basic human necessities can be avoided entirely if one grows out of that cycle. For him, this is just another waiting game till his shift ends.

But not tonight however, It seems some of his speculation is starting to become true when they were entering the village for the first time, When he was being swarmed by the beggars initially, he felt the strong presence of something far away from him, and in the corner of his eye, he sees it initially before it disappeared when a demon passed by him. As if he was… a shadow. This was no mistake, He’s making his presence known to him, He has stalked him ever since when they entered the land of Envy, Just as an observer seeing what they were doing till he got closer and closer which each passing mile that they covered.

Wesley unsheathes his sword, looking at the engravings that are carved right on the end of the blade, that feature the Redonian words for “Light” and “Dark” and each side respectively, It really meant a lot to Wesley, considering what has happened to him back in Redonia, each of the sides representing himself, If he was to be the Light. Then the one he will be facing is the Dark side of him, Cold, cunning and manipulative. A living monster that would just shiver an entire imperial court once he steps inside, the perfect killer that kills without the shed of remorse in his face. It has come down to this, Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

Sensing nothing for the meantime, He sheathes his swords and opens the door slowly as to not wake up the others and closed it as he enters.

"Anything outside?" She asked with a low tone as to not wake the others.

"Nothing yet, Seems quiet so far, and I don't sense anyone coming at us.. yet." The Ninja proceeded to make his way to his night-watch partner and sat opposite to her. He removed his mask and the hood that has covered his face for sometime, just to look proper. "Scared of the creatures out there?"

 

[Viper Actual]

Grunting, Seriphine shook her head. "I fear nothing, vampire. There is no being that cannot be wounded by my blades."
As she spoke her eyes un-intentionally wandered towards the fire, locking onto the swarm of embers floating upwards into the air until they reached their escape through cracks and holes in the ceiling.

Seriphine had to remind herself to look away from the fire and by default her eyes watched Vincent, currently huddled up under a worn blanket, briefly before shifting over to Wesley.
She looked at the mask and cocked her head towards it.

"The mask... Why do you wear it? To demoralize enemies? Or is it an act of cowardice and shame?"

Seriphine smirked briefly. "You'll have to forgive the blunt nature of my questions; I have known many warriors with masks. The reason is often far less functional but much more spiritual."

 

[KRIY]

"The mask... Why do you wear it? To demoralize enemies? Or is it an act of cowardice and shame?"

Seriphine smirked briefly. "You'll have to forgive the blunt nature of my questions; I have known many warriors with masks. The reason is often far less functional but much more spiritual."

Wesley chuckled a bit from her question as the Ninja looked at his mask, the mask itself was made out of exquisite material, fine leather with silver accents that go down the base, to make some sort of smoke effect on it. “I wear the mask for numerous of things, First is to hide my identity. Why would a Ninja risk getting his head on a pike when the guards discover who he really is? But other than that. The mask dehumanizes you, it makes you feel less human to the ones you fight against, if you show to them that you are more of a threat than they are, they’ll soon learn to cower from your presence. It became its own personality… but other than that...”

The Ninja soon places down the mask and looks to the fire in front of him, staying silent for a few moments before continuing “I wear it to prevent a curse... A curse that was set by Sazak three years ago. From my understanding, anyone who becomes smitten with me or the other way around will lose their minds and become insane. Similar to a person who I had a romantic relationship with in the past. I’ll just say that the relationships that I had before I knew about this curse didn’t end right...” Wesley turns towards Seriphine, asking his own question to the elf as well.

“Do you… Often think about the ones you kill?”

 

[K0mori]

A carriage rumbled down a mist-covered dirt road, pulled by a pair of proud-looking horses, whose shimmering black coats rippled with power as they climbed a long hill with a heavy load. The driver and another man sat at the bench, having a conversation about the local news, while behind them, the occupants of the vehicle were obscured by dark curtains. Their affairs were, at the moment, entirely private, but that would soon change as they entered the next glen and found themselves overlooking a large lake, a small village, and in the distance, a picturesque vineyard and estate belonging temporarily to the esteemed Lady Lisette Travere, all of it poking up above the sea of early-morning gloom and gray to welcome them.

La Cygne.

Peeking through a narrow gap in the curtains, Mariette turned to her company with a sentimental sigh. "We are nearly to the village, mes amis. It won't be much longer. Oh, I cannot wait to host a banquet," she declared, "...and invite everyone! A great celebration of our unfathomable providence... Oh la la, you must meet Monsieur Barnabé Comtois, Cassandra. He is an astonishing gentleman."

"You're sure my reputation won't..." Cassandra started to reply, but Mariette held up her hand to silence her. She had reassured Cassandra and Ser Edmond that they would be fully accepted in La Cygne, and perhaps all of Chalmette Flourissant, as long as they upheld Mariette's word that they were true allies of les gens de la nuit. "...right, I'm getting myself worked up over nothing."

"Well it's not nothing," Jakob said. "You two weren't around to see how bad things were during the purges. It still isn't what it used to be... But hey, we're going to make it better, right?" he said, perking up.

Another voice, belonging to an unknown woman, spoke up. "You always see the bright side in things, Dad," she said. And while Mariette looked at the remaining passenger, she didn't quite take in the features of her face. It was Lucy, Jakob's daughter. "But I am a little worried. How do we know it's really safe?"

The carriage rolled into the village, wheels knocking against cobbled streets as it meandered toward the road leading to the vineyards. A few people were walking about, but they backed away when the carriage rolled past, a grim expression on their faces. Mariette tried to reassure her company. "But... Juste arranged all of this, and I would trust that man with my life no matter what has happened over these few years. I've known him since he was an adolescent. He says that Madam Travere has agreed to sell the estate and title back to me and that the Crown has condoned my return."

"But what if it's a trap?" Lucy asked.

"Lucy," Jakob chided her with a laugh. "I'd say you always see the bad in things. I'm sure the Countess knows what she's doing," he said with a reassuring smile in Mariette's direction. But the truth was that Mariette wasn't sure. There was an anxiety eating at her from the pit of her stomach. She had taken the extra precaution to have Ser Edmond come later, so that his monstrous appearance wouldn't cause an uproar upon his arrival, but she still wondered whether the people would really allow their freshly vampire-free town fall back into the hands of the same ones Velin had worked so hard to vanquish.

The carriage rolled up in front of the property, and with a nod in Cass's direction, Mariette stood, positioned herself with her parasol at the door, and waited for Juste to open the door. But after several seconds, nothing happened. A voice called out to them. "We know you're in there!" it cried. "In the name of Velin's holy order, I demand you present yourselves, fiends!"

"Non..." Mariette croaked, frozen at the threshold.

"Dad!" Lucy yelped.

Cassandra bolted to her feet. "Oh, those motherfuckers! Marie, I'm going to rip them apart, and paint this place red! Are you with me!?"

"Countess...?" Jakob spoke, a fearful tone in his voice.

Mariette snapped out of her shock. This would not be a slaughter, she would make sure of it. She did not come all this way back from the Abyss to see her life be unraveled by hunters, nor would she permit herself to unlearn vital restraint. "No, Cass, don't," she said. "We need to talk to them."

She pushed the carriage door open at the same time she deployed the parasol, protecting herself as she stepped out and landed on the soft, grassy grounds. But when she lifted her eyes and caught sight of a familiar corpse that the umbrella's edge concealed, she was revolted to find Juste, the harmless elder butler of her estate, dead on the ground with a crossbow bold jammed through his neck. "W-why!? Why would you kill him!?"

"The man leads a whole pit of snakes into this land, and you ask why he wasn't spared? This incursion was his doing!" the leader of the zealots roared. "This land was pure. How dare you come here and spread your filth, you bloody parasite!"

Now realizing the horrific gravity of the situation, Mariette tried to reason: "sir, before you do anything more, know that there is an innocent woman in the carriage behind me, neither vampire, nor werewolf, nor any other kind of supernatural being. A young human woman, plain and innocent. You must not-"

She was cut off by the sound of screaming, and when she turned around, she found that the hunters had pried the other carriage door open and were now trying to pull Lucy from the vehicle, while Jakob held onto her and resisted. Mariette's eyes went wide as the glint of a shiny, silver revolver flashed in the morning light, and a scream of her own filled the air as several bullets were fired into the open carriage door. Her voice was cut short as a fine blade was thrust through her back and out of her chest, dropping her to her knees. It was only when Cassandra practically exploded out of the carriage, slamming into the zealot leader in the blink of an eye, that Mariette was brought to her senses.

Gripping the silver-coated blade despite the horrific pain, she shoved the blade back out of herself with one hand while using the other to cling to the parasol. She staggered across her own stately lawn, as more bullets were fired and dropped her to her knees, and inside an urge to strike back, to tear them apart just as Cassandra had suggested, was building. But Mariette tried desperately to resist it as she kicked, stumbled, and struggled all the way to the estate's doors. They were already smashed inward from Cassandra's onslaught, and so Mariette discarded the parasol as soon as she walked into the shade, and fumbled for a blood vial to ease her wounds.

Footsteps descended the stairs in the grand foyer, and Mariette weakly lifted her head to catch a glimpse, not of Cassandra, as she had hoped, but none other than the damned mockery of justice, Velin herself, toting Cassandra's freshly decapitated head. All at once, Mariette called upon the deepest, darkest spirits she knew, the worst hexes she could invoke, to grant herself strength and sap her opponent, no matter how hopeless the struggle would be. As shots continued to ring out and screams of two innocent people filled the air, Mariette became deaf to all of it, seeing nothing but red.

"GO AHEAD AND SAY HIS NAME, VERMIN." Velin said.

And she did.

"SAZAK!" Mariette screamed, "AZGON! TARANOCH GIVE ME STRENGTH!!" She rose and drew her saber, closing with ferocity, until she slammed the blade into Velin's gauntlet. The goddess merely gripped and ripped the implement out of Mariette's hand and tossed it carelessly aside. She then grabbed Mariette by the throat and held her in the air.

"I HAVE ALREADY JUDGED YOU, MARIETTE, AND DID I NOT TELL YOU WHAT BECOMES OF YOUR KIND? YOU ELUDE YOUR DAMNATION, AND CALL UPON DEMON KINGS AND ICONS IN A VAIN ATTEMPT TO STRIKE ME. THIS TIME, YOU WILL NOT GO TO YOUR FATE WHILE INSULTING ME. I WILL MAKE THIS SLOW AND PAINFUL."

Mariette struggled, trying to fight back, trying to curse, but as Cassandra's lifeless head tumbled down the steps, Velin lifted her now-free hand, and slowly, methodically gripped Mariette's nose and began to pull. As the pain reached an unbearable climax and Mariette could nearly feel the flesh ripping loose from her skull, her eyes awash in agony seemed to spot Camille at the balcony above, looking sadly down on her, Hudson at her side and shaking his head in condemnation.

She blinked awake in bed to find that it was not yet morning. Her relief was matched only by her shame. Of course it was just a nightmare... but Mariette couldn't help but feel that it was prophetic in a way. How could things possibly work out well for her, like in the beginning of the dream when she was happy? Even if she somehow eluded Sazak's wrath and escaped all the way to the surface, and even if she could resist all temptation to seek power and glory as she once did, then what was to prevent Velin from descending upon her life and destroying it? And in her deepest moments of despair, would Mariette resist seeking demonic assistance? How long could she live a life of paranoia and fear before her insecurities drive her to exactly such a moment?

It was all too much to handle, too much to even consider. All she knew is that this reprieve in which she has felt comfort and camaraderie for the first time in decades was a fleeting thing; she could not stay on this train forever, or in this moment forever. And that was exactly why she needed to cherish it while she could. Cassandra's powerful aura was like a second blanket, protecting her, and she lay for a while committing the feeling to memory. When it came time for them to part ways, Mariette hoped she could return to this place in spirit and derive even a fraction of the experience.

And someday, when she was ready to lose herself and become hollow, she hoped it would be the final memory left to lose. Her final notion of self.

 

[Viper Actual]

Despite not knowing what a 'Ninja' is Seriphine nodded in response to Wesley, though the curse felt like a much more logical reason for him to cover his face rather than a curse. "Curses can be broken, like all things. Surely you do not intend to hide your face for the remainder of your violent life, no?"

She ignored the comments Wesley made about a loved one. Or had there been several ones? Men were an odd race, as were their traditions of bonding with several mates throughout their lifes.
Seriphine tilted her head yet again. Do they not understand the concept of physical attraction without the need for pledges and vows?

When Wesley suddenly asked about the people she had killed Seriphine was taken back. She narrowed her eyes and shifted her weight from one leg to the other while continuing to stoke the fire. It was a sudden and unexpected question. A loaded one too.
Perhaps he was seeking guidance in dealing with whatever guilt he might feel? Perhaps it was a type of test. After all the rumors Seriphine had heard in regards to vampires painted them to be manipulative and unworthy of trust.

"No, I don't." She lied, shaking her head. "What is in the past stays in the past."

Seriphine raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask this? Do you spend your time thinking about the dead?"

 

[Breadman]

"I suppose you're right." Colette sighed. "Thanks anyway." She drank a bit more of her drink as the mentioned of wrath demons reminded her of something. "Speaking off. I did inventory and I'm running low on wrath grapes and it's the time of year when the black roses bloom from graves. Time to head back 'home'." She reached into her pure and dropped some more coin "I'd book a few extra days. I'll get off when you enter Azgon's realm." Finishing her drink, she got off from her seat and straightened her shirt. Looking around, it was so empty compared to just minutes ago. A bit sad too. Nothing she could do, but give a light bow of respect to the large knight still there. Taking the case with her, the seller would retire to her room.
---
It took a bit for Henderson to fall asleep. The day wasn't exactly exhausting nor thrilling for him. But eventually it would come time for him to sleep. He was used to closing his eyes and opening them up when he awoke, but this was different. He awoke to the camp being empty, abandoned for some time. He wondered what exactly had happened as he couldn't even get a scent of anyone. Searching the building was fruitless as well. Not a trace.

"Looking for your friends?" A voice asked. Henderson closed his eyes, sighed and turned around to face it. It was Edward. Sitting on a ledge, legs crossed and he was resting his elbows on one. The mask was gone, replaced with scars where the bullets had ripped through his face. It resembled a patchwork or a collection of jigsaw pieces jammed together by an angry child. "I'm afraid they can't help you right now." Henderson grabbed a piece of metal and swung it at his alter ego. It just passed through him like he was mist. The mutant sighed as he realized what this was.

"Right then." He planted the metal in the ground and leaned on it. "Two questions. Are you dead? If not, why?"

"I had time to study a lot of blood magic and necromancy." Edward tapped the side of his head "More than a century of it. While you were busy doing gods know what, I grew in power."

"Not enough it seems." Henderson mocked "Seeing how your plan fell to pieces."

"It was a setback. A grave one, but a setback non the less."

"My questions. You've yet to answer them."

"Right. Have you looked at your stab wounds after the fight, beast? Of course not. You think you'd be healed without a scar, right?" Henderson raised an eyebrow. Humoring the creature, he lifted part of his shirt to reveal that the stab wounds left over from the voodoo doll attacks. They weren't inflicted at random, but seemed calculated. They formed a rune. Dwarven in origin and used by magic users to bind something or someone in the past. Including for dark arts.

"So you bound yourself to me?" He rolled his eyes "Something tells me this wasn't a contingency of yours."

"No. I had planned to fuse with your shadow demon once you were dead, so I laid the groundwork. I believe that still allowed me to slip into your mind once my physical form died. The two halves become one again and now I'm here."

"An annoying voice at the back of my head when awake and an annoyance in my dreams because you turned me into a meat philactery?"

"I suppose you could say it like that."

"Right, this is some bollocks isn't it? Everyone gets a demon to deal with, their get send to oblivion, but you don't. What makes you so special?"

"I was a result of you tearing the original from yourself and killing him. Maybe half a soul can't just exist on its own? Maybe if you were the one dead, you would be in my mind now haunting my dreams? Or maybe this is the Abyss tormenting you, since you plan to stay and carve yourself something to enjoy. Nothing comes for free."

Henderson was silent for a minute as he mulled what Edward had said. He did feel energized once he killed his shadow. If that rune had done it's job then possibly this was the case. There was another facet of this that needed to be tested. He raised the piece of metal again. The shadow demon looked at him amazed that he would try again

"Oh what are you doing? Do you really have to try and..." He was cut short as the iron went through him and pierced a lung. The force pushed him to the outside of the window leaving him dangling in the air with his killer's tool keeping him up.

"Once again, your cocksure nature blinds you to the truth you pathetic little idiot." Henerson grabbed his head to make sure he was looking him in the eyes. "The last time our wills clashed in one mind, mine overpowered yours and destroyed you. Since then, it has only gotten stronger while you scavenged for tomes and parchments among the damned. Whatever has put you back in my mind didn't do it to torment me, it did it to torment you! This body is now your prion and my mind is your warden. Show your face in a dream again and I will make sure a century of the Abyss was a walk in the park." The brute let go of the piece and let Edward plummet to his death. A wet splat was all he could hear as the body became lost to the darkness. Soon the surroundings would melt away. If anyone were to glance at the sleeping mutant, they would notice a satisfied smile forming for a second.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Maybe it's the familiarity that this is home is what's helping Loque sleep soundly in spite of all the things about her 'home' troubling her. Things haven't really changed much since the last time she'd been home, and if they did, they only got worse after Thorgran's continued rule over this realm. Still, they're here to fix that and change things for the better. They're here to give these people hope, and for Loque, she's here to make things right after neglecting them for so long. Though she wonders about the angel she crossed paths with again. How much time she's bought him with her bottle of wine, she doesn't know, but hopefully he'll still be alive just as they're done here.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Centuries ago, in the outskirts of Tehom...​

He's still there. Even after she showed them she has nothing at all to offer them. Even after she's thrashed about and battered them away with a burning branch. Even after she's threatened to call Thorgran's men to come and harvest them. He's still there. Watching, waiting. Loque, still panting and sweating after once again going through her daily routine of beating back beggars from Thorgran's gate, turns to him with nothing but hatred in her eyes. Of all the beggars she's had to deal with, he's the worst as he never ever leaves her alone no matter how much she threatens him. It's every moment she sees him standing off to the side by the gate whenever she leaves work that brings her ever closer to the brink of insanity. He just won't leave her alone. If only she could bring herself to be just as cruel as Thorgran...

"What- what?!" she screams. "Didn't you hear!? I said get the fuck away from me!"

But the angel doesn't go anywhere. He's still there slumped against a wooden post and with that rusted pan of his in his hand, shaking as he holds it as he has so little strength left in his body. There's nothing in it, and hoped that maybe today she'd finally have something to give him. Wordlessly, he raises it at her. With Loque's patience reaching it's breaking point once again, she storms over towards him rage seeping out from between her teeth. He recoils in fear and holds up an arm in anticipation of a beating, or worse. "W-Wait, I-" Before he finishes what he's saying, Loque rips the pan out of his hand and tosses it as far as she could. She cuts him one last angry look before she walks away. The angel stands there unable to process what she just did until he finally runs off to collect the only possession he has besides the dirty kaftans he's wearing.

A long stroll through the barren outskirts of the city later, Loque finally arrives within distance of her home. Away from the beggars and away from Thorgran, she sighs in relief knowing she can finally rest after another day of being beaten, screamed at, forced to butcher her own people and other hapless human victims, and being drained of her soul once more. Though the closer she walks towards the front door, she can smell something strange in the air. It's coming from the side by the basement doors, it seems. She sticks to the wall and carefully slides around to see just what's giving off this weird odor. Her hands turn to fists and her knuckles white with anger as she sees a special someone laying on the grass with their pan filled with scraps of food and other assorted trash. The angel's somehow found her home and dug through her garbage for anything he could take, leaving behind a rather sizable mess.

"Oh, YOU!"​

A swift kick strikes the angel right in his head, causing him to yelp in pain as he jolts back up to his feet. Loque grabs him by his neck and pins him against the wall.

"H-How dare you! HOW DARE YOU!" She slaps him across his face several times until she starts shaking him and shoving him against the wall. "YOU come here to MY HOME and make a mess in MY YARD?!" The angel feebly holds up his arms to stop Loque from hitting him again. "N-no, I just-" Another strike from a hardened fist hits him the chest. "LOQUE, STOP!" he screams. Loque complies but only in shock that he knows her name. The biting grimace on her face grows only harsher as she lets go, making him slide to the ground. "Don't you even dare say my name, angelic bastard!"

"I-I didn't mean to!" He holds his head as he tries recovering from Loque kicking him."I just-... I was hungry... I was only hungry..." Without hesitating he starts gathering around the trash strewn about the place. "I'll clean it up, I'll clean it-"

Loque kicks his hands away before he can pick anything else up. Again she picks up his pan, and again she throws it as far as she could. It, and the scraps that were in it, land with a splash into a massive paddy field behind her home. "You want your fucking pan, angel?" Loque stomps her foot and snaps her finger towards the paddy. "GO GET IT."

As she threw it, the angel reached for it, only to lower his arm slowly as it hit the water. He wants to say something. He so desperately wants to say something. He wants to ask her why she's doing this to him, but being so callously abused and treated like this leaves him a mumbling a wreck. Loque takes off and starts heading inside as she expects the angel to take off running towards his rusty pan, but he doesn't. She turns around to berate him again for daring to bother her further with his continued presence at her home, only to see that underneath his hood, she sees him crying.

"It's not fair!" she hears him wailing between his tears. "...It's just not fair!"

Her face softens momentarily and her body seizes up as she keeps looking at him. She emptily stares back at him as he weeps, not sure what to say or do to him now. All she wanted was for him to leave her alone, but that's not happening now. It takes way too much force from her to start moving her legs so she can finally get away from him. At last, inside her home, she wanders to her bed and collapses on it like a sack of rocks. Yet through the walls of her house, she can still hear him crying. She grabs a pillow from what was her parents bedroom and smothers her own head with it. She can still hear him crying. There's no energy left in her to do anything about it now. At least, restless sleep like this is something she's already used to, perhaps a bit too much.

But she can't help but think now as she can't get the image of his tear-stained face out of he head... what's becoming of her? Holding a stick, lighting it on fire, and threatening to smash it over the heads of her fellow demons who only asked her for some spare change or leftover scraps from Thorgran's plate. That's not how she was raised. That's not the type of person her parents raised her to be. Back then, she'd never thought of doing such a thing, but why is she doing it now? Why is she becoming so abusive, almost like Thorgran? What is happening to her?

She just doesn't know, and tries coming to the conclusion that since she'll never know, it's not important and she shouldn't bother herself with it. So she tries one last time to fall asleep, and not pay any attention to the grieving angel outside. He'll go away eventually. It'll all go away eventually...

---------------

Perhaps if that angel still is around tomorrow, she'd do well to give him more than just a full plate... That is if he's still around to see it.

 

[joshuadim]

Taranoch's Treasury
Dis

Taranoch's wealth was rather expansive, considering his position of supreme power in the Abyss permitted such hoards of income to be funneled directly into his own pockets. Yet even the Demon King requires others to do the menial and boring tasks of managing their own finances. Such was the task befalling Talraxis as he toiled away at a never ending funnel of paperwork and a never ending stream of new information to be recorded for the books. After all, Taranoch wanted to make sure that not a single coin from wherever he gained his income from was missing. For a Greed demon such as himself, this was usually not an issue dealing with the workload as his many arms and eyes allowed him to focus on multiple tasks simultaneously. Demons such as him are highly coveted for their accounting skills and in dealing with exorbitant amounts of wealth. As such Talraxis and his lone companion in these matters, Atrox, were both on 'indefinite' loan to the Demon King from Keggoth to take on these tasks.

For centuries he had toiled to perform what was expected of him, and to not draw his master's wrath for any mistake, to the point where more often than not both greed demons were overworked and rather strained in their mindset. Yet so long as they continued to perform, they would survive and reap what little benefits was given for their unremarkable positions. For a brief period the two rested and took a break from the monotony, stress and work to just relax for a bit with some materials akin to that of cigars in the mortal world but more harsh, volatile, and bitter. Yet it provided a bit of relief and clarity as the two rested in their rather large quarters and recollected themselves. That was until Atrox spoke up.

"Tal, don't you notice anything... odd?" he asked with a rather curious tone, garnering a look from Talraxis as he tilted his head.

"How do you mean? In our work?"

"Well, yes and no. The numbers are getting smaller... but also have you noticed anything about Lord Taranoch? He's getting more and more angry each passing day..."

"Well of course he would be. That war down south is causing quite a ruckus... as well as what Lord Sazak's son has been up to in sabotaging efforts to quell that bloodshed."

"But what I'm hearing is nothing but failure after failure... setback after setback... and what I also hear is some other group causing a disturbance. Breaking and killing Sekath's taskmaster... destroying the factories... it's all so chaotic. And nothing's being done."

"Come now, I wouldn't say nothing is being done-"

"Whatever is done is not working. Do you think..." Atrox started to say before hesitating and glancing around in a paranoid manner before whispering once more, "Do you think that... Lord Taranoch is losing his grip on things?"

Talraxis shot a quick look with narrowed eyes, all of them, towards his compatriot and hissed. "Do NOT even utter such things... I'd rather we keep our heads than have them rolling on the ground." he whispered back with an aggressive tone before looking towards the entrance to their quarters. A few moments of silence passed as both demons held their breath as if they expected someone to have been listening in on them. When nothing happened, Talraxis returned his gaze to his friend and shook his head.

"We... we cannot speak of this. Ever. We've done our duty and we've performed well. We haven't been sent back to Lady Keggoth in pieces-"

"But don't you want to not live in fear, brother?" Atrox asked in a hushed tone, "To not have to always second guess your words, your thoughts? To actually live?"

Talraxis didn't have a response as he stared at Atrox for a moment before getting up. "We need to get back to work... we shouldn't be late."

 

[KRIY]

"No, I don't." She lied, shaking her head. "What is in the past stays in the past."

Seriphine raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask this? Do you spend your time thinking about the dead?"

“At times, I do...” Wesley looks back to the fire before continuing what he was saying, “Being a Ninja, or to put it simply for you, being an Assassin means that you’ll be going around for what the warlord deems as a threat to him or his court. You’ll get people such as bandits, marauders, even ninjas from other warlords if it came to that. But at times, it were just regular common folk that he doesn’t want anywhere near him, most of his targets include the family members of his political rivals.”

Wesley shifted around, seemingly troubled by it, “Wives, relatives… even children… I can still remember their faces… lifeless eyes just staring back at me… after each kill, it just made me less and less of a person, until I finally…. snapped.” Wesley stopped himself, realizing that the tension of his voice, “I’m… sorry. I just tend to… do that...” He managed to calm himself down and continue, “I returned from that mission and… I just stabbed my sword through his heart. It-it felt… amazing, like some sort of euphoria and I just lost control over myself... as if someone else took over my body… and started killing.” Wesley trailed off.

“I was just a bloodthirsty animal, the only thing that brought me back was killing my close friend, a ninja master who was hiding his identity as a fisherman, just down the coast near the fort where the warlord lived... When I first came to Redonia, he was the first one to accommodate me, taught me under his wing to survive in Redonia… His last words to me were “Remember the light inside you, But. Don’t fade to complete darkness.” And suddenly, I managed to get hold of myself… and I just watched him die without anything I can do about it…” Wesley looked back towards Seriphine again, “…..I’m sorry. I'm just... quite tired with my life.. that's all."

 

[Viper Actual]

Seriphine blinked as Wesley rambled on. Out of all the people she expected to ventilate their innermost thoughts the so-far quiet assassin had been the last one to consider. Why he picked her was an even greater mystery, considering the fact she might not always come off as the most open or sympathetic person. In her mind Takato or Senya appeared to be much more apt to handle whatever this rambling was supposed to be.

Gently she continued to stoke the fire and watch the embers for a while. As Wesley's final words lingered in the air she allowed silence to set in before mustering her own response. Truth to be told she didn't exactly know what to say. Did the assassin need someone to tell him that what he had done was fine? Was he looking to share the burden of his guilt? At the back of her mind another thought appeared.

Was he playing some sort of angle?

Seriphine shook her head slowly. No, far too obvious.

Placing the metal rod to rest between two rocks she sighed. As Seriphine looked up at Wesley her ears wiggled briefly. "I fear I am the wrong person to have this conversation with. The questions you ask and the answers to them are much alike the same ones I ask myself and seek. My hands are crimson with the blood of innocents and my shoulders are burdened with the guilt of taking those lives- directly or otherwise."

She sighed. "I cannot offer the comfort you're looking for. I can't tell you if either of us will ever be able to repay our debts. What I can tell you however is that I understand your frustration, your grief and the sheer volume of regret. I feel it too."

"If there's anything that this journey has taught me so far is that second chances are worth more than any riches of the world because through action and action alone we might not repay what is owed but rather we may prevent others to experience what we've done, the events we've seen unfold and feel the pain we've felt. That is the only answer I can give you."

Just as she finished there was a snicker.

"Adorable, just adorable. The mighty Huntmastress of Clan Ironwind has finally folded. Pathetic."

Seriphine tensed up and grabbed the hilt of one of her blades while setting her eyes on the door leading downstairs. "Did you hear that?" She asked in a low tone Wesley while slowly getting up from where she had been seated. The voice had sounded all too familiar:

Faelnir.

 

[KRIY]

Wesley seemingly nodded from Seriphine’s words. It was well said, even if the person he was talking wasn’t really expecting him to share the deepest thought in his mind, he was about to say his friendly regards until a snicker caught his attention.

Adorable, just adorable. The mighty Huntmastress of Clan Ironwind has finally folded. Pathetic."

Seriphine tensed up and grabbed the hilt of one of her blades while setting her eyes on the door leading downstairs. "Did you hear that?" She asked in a low tone Wesley while slowly getting up from where she had been seated.

“…I did, And it doesn’t sound like he was begging.” he replied with the same low tone. Wesley was back to his conscious self, He got up quietly and placed his hand on his sword, pulling it just half-way in case if something or someone were to attack them. He made his way to the stairs, gesturing to Seriphine to come behind him as the duo made their way to the door. It was still unopened and just like how he left it when he went inside, nothing was touched or disturbed around their surroundings. He used his vampiric sense to detect what was outside.

He detected someone walking away from the house they were in, “Our culprit looks like he’s trying to escape us… But who was tha-“

Welsey heard a familiar sing-song, Her voice catching Wesley offguard.

“Ohhhhh Wesleyyyyyy!..... Do you still remember…” A vocal rhythm only familiar to him. He couldn’t forget if he even tried, a deep memory from the Inquiry implanted forever in his mind...

".. me?”


…!

“The fuck?!” is the only thing Wesley could say before he ran to the door with his sword in his right hand and opened it, and laid out in front of him was a dead body of a beggar, a kunai implanted on his chest with the blood soaking the ground where the beggar laid. He goes outside of the house and check of the two beings that were here a minute ago and noted what seemed to look like a blood trail. He went back inside were Seri was holding guard, “All clear for now.. There’s a body outside, looks like a beggar, theres a blood trail leading to somewhere outside.”

 

[Infab]

The morning was relatively calm aboard the train, but the group found that the train had apparently stopped. No longer did they hear the rumbling of the cars across the tracks, or the sound of the engine's whistles. Cat poked her head into the quarters of both the men and women, and gave them a warm good morning. "Good morning, everyone! I've prepared breakfast for all of you, as well as hot coffee or tea. For the more vampiric members of your group, I have brought out an extensive selection of various types of bloods." she said, as she poked her head into each of their rooms. "If you would like to freshen up for the day, baths have already been run! Should you need anything, feel free to ask me. Wesix, my associate, is currently busy assisting our conductor with minor train maintenance. We should be back underway to our destination within the next few hours. If you would like to step off the train for some fresh air, you may do so! I should warn you, however, that as we are in the Northern Wastes...avoid venturing too far from the train. There are a variety of reasons that we demons tend to avoid staying out here too long. The local wildlife being one of them."

She then left them to themselves, allowing each of them to properly wake up and tend to their morning rituals.

 

[Viper Actual]

Seriphine had followed Wesley downstairs with one of her swords drawn. Her eyes darted to the left and right as Wesley went outside to secure the perimeter. Waiting for the assassin felt like an eternity and during the seconds that passed Seriphine continued to be on high-alert.
Despite her elevated senses she couldn't detect any sound aside from Wesley.
In fact, there didn't seem to be any sounds at all. It was almost as if the entire area had fallen into an unnatural silence. Then Wesley stumbled through the door. "A beggar? But..." Her voice trailed off as another snicker echoed outside, this one a bit more gleeful in nature.

Without a word Seriphine's expression hardened and she rushed past Wesley. Faelnir or not the person in question was close- too close.
Upon leaving the ramshackle building that the party had used for shelter Seriphine noticed something immediately: a body, bloodied and shredded, laid on the ground in front of her.

This body however was no beggar. Dressed in worn and dirty uniform rags, rusted armor and covered in stamps, Elven symbols and tattoos the deceased man, or rather the general outfit of him, looked like one of the thralls that had served under Seriphine's command all those years ago. A trail of blood was leading away from the man and into a mist-enveloped forest.

Seriphine narrowed her eyes. Had there been a forest her previously?

She shook her head. Of course not. Vile sorcery is at play here...

Cursing, Seriphine followed the trail into the forest, ignoring any possible comment made by Wesley or anyone else. She used her free hand to move branches aside while making her way through the dense pine forest. The mist around her only seemed to grow thicker and more intense the farther she walked.
Then, all of a sudden, the trees vanished. Now there was only mist.

Seriphine continued forward ever so carefully. The sound of her footsteps changed. She was walking on stone now. Cobblestone to be precise.

She blinked and as her eyes opened the mist had parted. In front of her was a war-torn street of some long-lost city. Fires were raging in the buildings around her while bodies of Men were laid out across the surrounding area. Some were still twitching or crying for help while others laid completely still, arrows and spears jutting out of their bloodied corpses.
At the far end of the street were several dozens of soldiers. Men. Goblins. Dwarves. Half-Blood Elves. All armed, armored and marked for a life of servitude.

Standing in front of the contingent of veteran thralls was an Elf bearing the armor of Seriphine's most loyal troops. It was none other than Faelnir. He spotted Seriphine and raised his chin.

"The Queen of Slaughter!" He said before slamming the bottom of his polearm into the cobblestone twice.

In response the thralls used sword hilts, spears and even armored fists to create a metallic echo against their shields and armor. Following the gesture their combined voices spoke in unison;
"TRUE QUEEN!"

Seriphine grimaced. A snicker, this time a feminine one, came from one of the buildings. Exiting slowly was a lone figure covered in chains and blood.
"Beautiful to behold, is it not?"

The figure snickered. "Such a shame you gave it all away, or rather, a shame that you couldn't keep your inner circle in line."

"Now you shall perish once more like the weakling you are."

The figure drew her blade, a twisted and dark version of one of Seriphine's blades, as well as a long chain which was wrapped around her left arm. In response Seriphine drew her second blade and smashed her two weapons together repeatedly to create a metallic cling-sound.

As she got into a hunched down combat stance her mind sought out one person in particular.

Vincent. Wake up.

 

[Infab]

Vincent twitched, before slowly awakening. He gently stretched, flicking his blanket off. The floor was rather uncomfortable, rough with poking up here and there. Certainly not the best place to sleep. When he looked about, however, he noticed that Seriphine was gone. As if she had just vanished. Shit. He quickly grabbed his rifle, getting to his feet and nudging the others awake. "Something's up. Seriphine's gone. I don't see Wesley." he said, glancing out the window.

After making sure everyone was awake, he moved towards the door before heading downstairs. Once outside, he took notice of a body laid out on the ground. A beggar, whom apparently had been cut down. And leading away from it, a blood trail. He eyed the trail, before glancing back to whomever had followed him downstairs. "Got a feeling they followed the trail. Keep an eye out." he said. He checked his weapon, before moving quickly along the trail. He hoped it was just a random killing, but knew it wasn't. Likely one of their shadow demons had found them.

 

[Damian0358]

Takato had remained largely quiet following the embrace with the angel mendicant, allowing the others to deal with him. While he knew not Loque's history with this mendicant, he still thought the way she treated him was a tad much. He listened closely to the questions Seriphine and Vincent had, intriguing the hermit more, but he kept his mouth shut.

Soon enough, they arrived at an abandoned shop and set up camp. When Seriphine and Wesley had swapped in, Takato had taken the previous night shift. Internalizing his pre-sleep chanting, his seat-cloth ready, he began his sleeping qigong. While he was 'sleeping', he was still consciously aware of himself. And as he delved deeper, he couldn't help but notice slight changes to the aura of those of the watch... sudden, yet small, movements, abrupt turns, reactions, and eventually the two auras venturing further away from the camp. By the time Vincent had gotten up and nudged him awake, Takato was fully conscious that something was up, and hearing Vincent elaborate had him worried.

He followed down after Vincent, looking grimly at the body of a supposed mendicant. He tried his best to sense where the two had headed, since they couldn't have gone that far away from the camp.