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The Beginning

Travi
Kilonia Academy of the Arcane


www"And why, I hesitate to ask, do you want to leave on this...wild excursion master Duresse?" magister Root Sordell had a way of speaking that made the hair on the back of Travi's neck tingle. Like a viper that ignores you, knowing you are but a roach not worth a second glance. The magister sat in his pristine office, where wild plants and strange foliage could be seen lining the shelves. Travi could identify some of the plants but most had been altered by the magister's vials. Blue, almost glowing, liquid shimmered within the vials stacked up neatly in front of the magister as he studied the effects of one on a plant with red leaves.
www"Magister if you would give me a chance to explain what I found regarding the warrens and the persistent effects of an ascen-"
www"Have you ever wondered..." cut in Sordell caressing the plant as he added another drop of liquid on a red leaf, it sizzled, causing the red color to dissipate where the drop landed, before slowly spreading towards the rest of the plant. "...why a pontessa's leaf is poisonous to all creatures except the humble blue viper-frog?"
www"Can't say I have sir"
www"You see the viper-frog has a venom in it's saliva, a very potent venom, that neutralizes the pontessa's own venom rendering it impotent." The plant on top of the magister's study was mostly grey now with black veins showing instead of the healthy reddish-yellow. "I would be very weary approaching any pontessa I see in the wild, lest a blue viper-frog is hidden underneath a red leaf". The magister stood upright now facing Travi which caused his stomach to wrench. "you were saying, master Duresse?"
wwwTravi cleared his throat, "Magister I think I found a link between the warrens and the -"
www"Ahh the warren thing again, magister Kult spoke about your obsession with the intrinsic nature of the warrens. I say, you should find a different hobby. Many great scholars found the warrens to be very difficult to comprehend, even though they would deny any of the sort. We only know how to use the magic it provides us but not how or why it is made-"
www"I think Galeb was onto something, magister, when he described the guardians having powers tuned to specific warrens."
www"Galeb was more of a dreamer than an actual scholar, but I do concede some of his work can be seen as valuable under certain light. If I understand you correctly, master Duresse, do you propose going off and finding a guardian by yourself?" asked the magister trying to hide the annoyance in his voice, he sounded a lot like a mother tired of disciplining her less bright child. "Need I remind you of the dangers these guardians pose to an arcane wizard of your rank?"
www"Actually, magister, I am proposing a visit to Unta, to the hero Gurvan's tomb."
wwwThe magister's lifted his eyebrows as he listened more intently "Go on" he said as he took a seat.
www"I have a theory that may explain what the historian Galeb was trying to say in his third book. In the off-chance that I am right, I may find the link missing between the warrens and the guardians, hidden within the crypt."
wwwMagister Sordell, usually pompous and a narcissist, was no fool. The title of magister proved that and he caught on to what Travi spent months trying to peace together. This was a man to be weary of. "Well well, master Duresse, this is very interesting indeed. I assume you have read the works of Javel and was able to connect the dots through his manuscripts, very clever master Duresse" Magister Sordell rose and started pacing "Finding the crypt may not be an easy task-"
wwwTravi was anxiously waiting for this moment "actually, magister, I think I know someone who went there, or at least, I know who sent him"...
 
The D'Arles

wwwwwThe City of Kilonia is a bit different than other cities. Granted, it looked similar to other cities at first glance, second glance too, but what made it different was the fact that it housed one of the greatest magical schools this side of the continent. Being gifted in the magical arts is a rarity and having a group together is even more rare. The city was ruled by a council that dictated what and how things should be like in the city. The council was mostly compromised of high magisters, the elite of the magic academy, but a few influential merchants and important figureheads where allowed to apply for a seat. One such member is from a particularly powerful and known family, the D'Arle's. They are the rulers of the city's underbelly, with a spy network that matches the magicians own inner circle. So powerful they are that any assassination contract must go through one of their channels to be approved before the killer is let loose and most birds tweet in their ears.
wwwwwThe D'Arle family do have their own peculiar quirks like any self respecting all powerful family does. One such quirk is known as Darling D'Arle, the "big sister". She was a hard one that, tougher than most men and twice the size. Darling discovered at an early age that running the family business was too boring and opted for a life of adventures usually coming back with a larger group than the one she started with. Apparently the success of her adventures and her powerful presence, that came in naturally in the D'Arle family, made people flock to her. All that is in the past now, age caught up to her pretty fast and a diet consisting mainly of pork and beer only accelerated it. Now she spends most of her days with one group of veterans or another, drinking and reminiscing of old times and of fools they lost on their journeys. Their stories were always wild and almost always attracted a large audience who constantly burst with laughter at the absurdity of her and the veteran's stories...
 

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Health: 68%

  • Addressed: Falaern Damaer

    Mentioned: N/A

The door slammed behind her with a reverberating thud! The paintings on the wall quivered in response, and embers from the dying fire in the hearth fluttered from the sudden draft, dancing briefly before settling within the dying fire again. Despite the anger bubbling within her, her boots were silent against the maple flooring of the suite—an expensive trait that she had happily paid extra for. The sconces flickered in fear as she swiftly strode towards the desk in the middle of the study, her shadows threatening the flames with suffocation. If she lost any more control on her magic, then the room would've been plunged into darkness the moment she stepped through. Not like it would have made her journey to her desk any more difficult.

Roxii rounded her desk and, after aggressively pushing the chair out of her way, stood over her desk with her hands braced against the edges. Her shadows passed over the stacks of paper laid neatly upon its surface, her fuming ceasing for just a moment as she focused on the task at hand. Once her darkness found their target, she grabbed the corner of a seemingly nondescript page out of the stack and, with expert grace, yanked the page out of the middle of the stack. The rest of the pages remained untouched and unmoved, despite the disruption. Laying the chosen page upon the desk in front of her, the blind assassin allowed her shadows to travel across the page, feeling the ink ridges across the page with her magic. This particular letter requested her assistance in taking out an unremarkable shopkeeper. Perhaps the man angered the customer in some way—maybe raised his prices or swindled them out of some prized possession. Either way, it wasn't her place to ask questions. She was just supposed to receive the request, complete it, and get paid.

But she couldn't complete her mission if her targets kept going missing! This was the fifth target to go missing in the past two weeks! Whisked away on a silent wind with only a mocking calling card left behind: "Better luck next time" it read. No signature, no name, nothing save for a stamp of an oddly familiar symbol at the bottom. She'd attempted to gather information on the cryptic person or persons that have been deliberately ruining her business, but she couldn't get much further beyond rumors. A mystery that had been terrorizing some of the best freelancer thieves, mercenaries, and assassins for a while now. Whatever they were trying to accomplish, they were selective in who they targeted. As for why, she couldn't be sure, and no one else was quite sure either. She couldn't exactly go out and ask their previous targets because, unfortunately for her, they just up and disappeared.

Anger began bubbling up inside her again. Her shadows thrashed violently out from her, and her knuckles turned white from the harsh grip she had upon the desk. Her lips locked into a fine line until an animalistic snarl ripped from her and her fingers viciously ripped the assassination request to shreds. How dare these strangers mock her so! A stab at her pride, her reputation. Each of these unfulfilled requests were failures, ones that wounded her killing streak. Humiliating!

Roxii released a slow, calming breath. The assassin's fingers drummed against the solid cedar in a steady rhythm as she turned a thought over in her head a few times, tasting the sour plan in her mouth. It'd be risky, but she could perhaps find out who had been destroying her career. After all, they were directly affecting her income, and that did not sit well with the L'yrathi whatsoever. One of her wolf ears twitched in irritation at the thought. She definitely possessed enough coins to allow her to sit comfortably for a couple years, but the lack of steady income, the lack of growing closer to being considered "wealthy" was bothersome. If she was to go back to completing assassination requests unhindered, then she needed to neutralize the threat. Immediately.

Nodding to herself, the wolf-elf picked a random request out of her "incomplete" stack and set out. The target was another unremarkable civilian: a 41-year-old botanist named Milris Parieth. No reasoning behind the request whatsoever, but that was fine. It wasn't like she was going to have a chance to complete the mission anyways. As long as she could find her target quickly, Roxii could be able to put an end to all this troublesome nonsense.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

It took some time and some... questionable methods, but the hybrid was able to track down Parieth quickly enough to watch her get taken away by a hooded figure. The stranger was hushed as they spoke to the middle-aged human botanist, explaining the situation and hurriedly wrapping her in a similar cloak to keep her out of sight. They traveled by cart out of the city and down the main road for quite a while before splitting off onto a hardly noticeable path. They were silent the entire time, even as they approached a wooden cabin that looked to have been abandoned for years. The duo disappeared inside and all was silent for a while.

Roxii waited outside the cabin for some time before moving in closer. Her footfalls were silent as she crept towards the decrepit building, allowing her to listen carefully for anyone inside or outside it who might betray or discover her presence. However, she couldn't hear anyone whatsoever. She hesitantly reached out with her shadows, searching for any souls while being careful to not alert anyone with an affinity for magic. Her magic touched no one. Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. It was as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Once she was at the entrance of the dilapidated building, she slowly pushed the door open, hoping that the hinges wouldn't creak. The gods seemed to be merciful today. She sent out a pulse of darkness throughout the rooms of the cabin, but her magic touched no one. It was vacant, the only trace of their presence being their lingering scents. She bit her lip thoughtfully. An old cabin like this ought to have some sort of wine cellar. Her shadows spread out across the floor of the cabin, searching for any drafts between the cracks and an empty space of some sort. It wasn't difficult for her to find it. Peeling back the rug the door was hidden under, Roxii gripped the handle and hefted the cellar door open. She was met with the thick, damp air of the cellar, and she suppressed the desire to cough.

The assassin tread down the steps carefully and slowly, keeping her shadows reined in just in case these mystery people could detect her darkness. However, she kept her ears up and attentive, listening for any telltale signs of her mystery targets. All she could hear, though, was the steady drip of water falling from the cave ceiling. The drips echoed throughout the cavern, making it difficult for the wolf-elf to pinpoint her own location. Not to mention that the air here was thicker than tar, and despite the humidity it scratched against her throat. Deciding that it may be better for the assassin to risk her location by being able to see, she sent out a soft, short pulse of darkness.

It revealed to her the lone person standing before her, watching her with mixed interest like a master studying a prospective animal. "It's about time you arrived," he mocked. Before the wolf-elf could react, another person seemingly appeared out of thin air behind her, and she was violently struck in the back of the head. And for once, the darkness was not so comforting.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

She had no idea how much time had passed before the wolf-elf regained consciousness. Her head spun like a dancer, and she could feel the familiar trickle of blood sliding down the nape of her neck. Roxii allowed herself only a moment to gather herself before she realized the potential danger she was in. The hybrid scanned the room, searching for the threats and their locations around her. She had been transported somewhere else. She was now sitting on a rather comfortable couch with a wooden coffee table between her and another couch. The rogue noted the luxurious nature of the room they were in; expensive paintings adorned the walls and prized statues accented the room where paintings could not do justice. A wooden desk sat against the far wall, facing towards her and the exit door. At the desk, watching her carefully, was the stranger.

Her attention fixated upon the man that had spoken to her before. Roxii noted that no one else was in the room with her and the stranger. Bracing herself for a fight, she quickly reached for an arrow as she materialized her bow of shadows. However, before she could even finish materializing the bow, she was met with a heart-stopping shock. The electricity flowed through her body as easily as her blood, and her expression relayed the shock as plainly as the sun on a cloudless day. She opened her mouth to scream in pain, but she couldn't find her breath. So she stayed there, still as a statue, as the electricity ravaged her body.

It really only lasted for about five seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before the electricity ebbed. Shaking violently, Roxii collapsed into the couch again as she desperately gulped down air. Her fingers slowly traveled up to her neck where the electricity seemed to originate. Only then did she realize that there was a steel collar there, clamped tightly around her neck. Focusing upon it, she could practically hear the dormant electricity flowing through the collar. How it worked, she wasn't sure, but she didn't want to keep it around any longer to find out more about it. She pried at the collar, but it wouldn't budge. She couldn't even find a seam or a latch in the metalwork. It was as if it was forged around her neck. The L'yrathi rasped, "What is this?"

The cloaked man at the desk ignored her question and rested his chin upon his interlaced hands. "Roxii Dae Sicarius, it is nice to see you again." He cocked his head to one side like an intrigued dog. "How have you been, mia daja? It sure has been an awfully long time since we last spoke."

The hybrid's brow furrowed in confusion. She couldn't get her shadows close enough to this man to identify him. An odd shield-like bubble surrounded him, masking his features and physical characteristics. His magic was very similar to hers, if not identical. But his scent, his voice, his demeanor... Why was it so familiar? How did he know her name? "Who are you?" she asked hesitantly.

The stranger sighed as if disappointed. "I would have hoped you had recognized me a little quicker." His masking shield dropped slowly, allowing her magic to discern the male's facial features. No. It couldn't be– "Perhaps you remember me by the name of Master Damaer?"

A knot formed in her throat, and she felt the blood leave her face, leaving her ghostly pale. She couldn't tell if the emotions that ravaged her were from the pain that enveloped her just moments ago or from the fear that her old master was standing before her. She recognized the room now; it was the Master Study within the Crimson Shadow's manor. She was almost positive that there were two assassin's waiting outside the door, ready to take her down if she were uncooperative and tried to run. Though with her current predicament, she would be foolish to try and run from Master Falaern Damaer.

It took her a moment to find her voice and her anger. How dare he kidnap one of his previous students for his own personal gain! She snarled, "You snake. You think you ca–"

Another jolt of electricity shot through her body, quick and painful enough to stop her in her tracks. Despite her blindness, stars danced across her vision, and she gulped down air once she regained control of her lungs. "What is this?" Roxii repeated, each word forced between labored breaths.

"Do you like it? It's of my own design." Falaern grinned smugly, and she wanted to punch the grin right off his face. "It's controlled remotely, and it releases a jarring amount of electricity into the wearer's body in real time."

A silence settled in the room as the hybrid calmed her racing heart and processed the assassin leader's explanation. Realizing that she couldn't win here, Roxii relented to listen to the man. "Well, you have me here." She leaned back into the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. The edge had returned to her voice. "What do you want from me, Falaern?"

Roxii didn't need her sight nor her magic to feel the knowing smirk he gave her. "You are to do something for me."

The assassin growled, "I don't work for you anymore."

"The mark still upon your skin says otherwise."

Irritation contorted her face. "I don't do deals. Especially not for you." Venom dripped from each word.

Falaern stood from his desk and tsked. "Wrong answer." Just then, another jolt of electricity ravaged the assassin's body. Falaern began making his way over to her, and she convulsed for a moment as the electricity gorged itself upon her. This shock was shorter, but it was still as effective in silencing her. "You see, you don't have a choice in this, my dear etriel. You disobey me, and I destroy your body from the inside out. You do as I say, and I will release you from your torture when your task is completed." He stopped before her, peering down at her like she were the scum of the land. "Do you understand?"

Roxii grit her teeth, and her fingers dug into cloth of the couch. "Go to hell."

Falaern sighed and the assassin braced herself for the inevitable shock. Unfortunately, it still wasn't enough. The electricity flowed angrily, and this time was more powerful than the previous times. She shook violently at the increased amount of voltage in her body, and the air was knocked out of her in the form of a blood-curdling scream. The shock was about as long as the first, only a few seconds, but it left the hybrid in a heap on the couch once it subsided. The tips of her fingers tickled from the remainder of the electricity. Falaern waited a moment before repeating slowly, "Do you understand?"

This time, the wolf-elf stayed silent.

"Excellent!" Falaern clasped his hands together in front of him. "You are under my stead once again, Sicarius. As such, you will refer to me as Master. Is that understood?" He gazed at the assassin expectantly.

She was half-tempted to spit in his face, to choke him out and leave him to rot, but the cool band around her neck reminded her of her current circumstances, forcing her to reconsider. "Yes... Master." The title was forced through gritted teeth, but she knew the consequences of her disobedience.

Master Damaer lifted his chin in approval. "I need you to seek out a particular tomb for me. It houses the corpse of a great hero. Gurvan, specifically." There was a moment of silence as Master Damaer allowed the task to settle on the assassin. "Find it, and I will give you your next task."

He stooped down to be level with the assassin. His eyes traveled over her face, occasionally stopping at the blindfold wrapped around her head. He reached out a hand and gingerly lifted her chin, making sure that she was listening. Roxii fought back the urge to flinch away from his touch, making sure to not give him another reason to electrocute her. "I trust you will do this for me, my etriel. Else..." His finger tapped the steel collar menacingly, his fingernail clinking against the cool metal. This time, she couldn't resist pulling back from him.

Falaern suddenly straightened and walked away, waving a hand dismissively as he made his way to the door. "Don't let me down, Roxii Dae Sicarius," he called over his shoulder. "And remember: I am always watching." A beat later, the wolf-elf was struck in the head once again, this time much harder than before. She crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll, and she embraced the safety of the darkness that enveloped her.

⟡ ⟡ ⟡​

Roxii awoke hours later to the moonlight filtering in through her window. She groaned as she sat up, her mattress mirroring her discomfort as she moved. A hand went to her head, hoping to steady the spinning. She pulled her fingers away and found them dry; in fact, there was no blood on her. The assassin gingerly prodded the back of her head. The split was still there, but the blood had been cleaned before Falaern and his assassins deposited her at her home. She moved her attention to the collar still clamped around her neck. The metal was cool to the touch despite the raging heat and energy contained within. She shivered, remembering the volts that devastated her body just hours before. She knew Falaern. He was a madman who took calculated risks, but he was no idiot. She knew there was little to no way out of this.

She was trapped.

 
The Thirsty Goat

"Is that it?" The boy stopped a few steps ahead of Travi. The building that stood beyond looked imposing, somewhere between an inn and a tavern.
www "That's the Thirsty goat mister. Can I have my coins now mister?"
www Travi fished out two copper coin and handed them to the kid. He didn't look older than eleven but he did have spirit and eyes the constantly scanned his surroundings. "Can I have one more mister, my sister is sick and my nana is too old to go out and work so I have to take care of her now but she isn't getting enough food-"
www"Boy you need to learn to breathe when you talk" Travi handed the kid one more copper. "Take care of your sister".
www"Can I have one more mister, my uncle is in trouble with some bad men and he needs to pay them back but he doesn't have enough money so-"
www"Even I won't fall for that kid" interrupted Travi with blank stare. " I know I don't look from around here but you should have stuck with your first story and asked for two coins instead of one". The kid smiled before running back to the alley they came from.
www___

Every chair, bench and table within the large hall of the thirsty goat was occupied with frozen onlookers. The target of their unanimous glares was an old man who moved to and fro with energy a young man could hardly keep up with. His voice boomed within the halls as he spun his story, enacting his character so thoroughly that it left the audience completely enamored.
www "So here we were, stranded in the middle of the forgotten forest, our healer is wounded and Gunter is no where to be seen. Darling D'Arle and yours truly were covering the flank while the rest of the squad assessed the damage. And that's when we saw it..." He paused for dramatic effect, completely taking in the moment as the audience leaned so far forward they almost fall from their seats. A scoff sounded at one of the larger tables, a huge woman clothed with a simple, yet elegant, tunic sat at the head of the table. Her posture spoke of grace, of power, and her eyes were looking at a scene that was long in the past.
www"What did you see?" asked a dark haired youth, completely forgetting his drink which looked almost full.
www"High in the sky" continued the storyteller "gliding gracefully, flapping its wings ever so lazily, was a DRAGON!"
wwwGasps filled the room as the audience discussed among themselves the truthfulness of what the storyteller was saying. A dragon is a creature that only existed in the stories parents tell to their kids to make their imagination run wild. Travi knew about dragons, he spent long nights reading all kinds of books that theorized about dragons and their existence beyond the bones found deep within the earth. Kilonia Academy itself housed one such specimen, albeit only half a skull, which spoke volumes about the magnificent creature it once was. Currently, no known dragon exist, at least not in this part of the continent.
www"Its true, I saw it with my very own eyes." The large lady stood up "You think you are important, that your life matters, until you see something like that. It puts your life into perspective. Now come sit down Dolfus before you meal gets cold."
www "Guess I'll continue the story later." said Dolfus with a smile as the crowd protested for him to continue his tale "We ain't going anywhere, our adventuring is done. Pass by sometime later for a chance to hear another wild story. God knows, we've got tons of those."
www Travi took the opportunity and walked towards Darling D'Arle's table...
 
## The Parley

He was chewing on his beard. Travi couldn't keep his eyes of him. His eyes were absent, oh the lights were on, but it didn't seem like anyone was home. He just sat there and stared at Travi...while chewing his beard-
ww"Boy! wake up!" Travi faced Darling again. They sat in a more isolated part of the tavern, up on the second floor. Darling sat at the head of the table. To her right sat an older looking man, the beard chewer, with a balding pate wearing a white tunic that hung loosely on his frail frame. To her left sat a man with features befit a folk hero. Albeit a hero who's background included some backstabbing and a pinch of bribery. He had a scar that ran across the side of his face and his eyes kept track of everything Travi did, and didn't do. The rest of her company were be spread out around the tavern. "I asked how yuv heard of Dunbarrow" she reiterated.
ww"Sorry..he knew one of students in the Academy. I overheard that student talk to another about how he managed to trick someone into leaving the city to try and find Gurvan's crypt". He tried to keep his eye on her but her features become more and more livid as he went on.
wwShe slammed the table. "And that student is still around!?"
wwTravi was prepared for this. "Actually he left a while ago. He got an assignment somewhere in the north. Last I heard he was trying to convince an old lord that magic is not demonic or something like that." It was not a complete lie, better than the truth which would lead the student to an untimely death.
ww"I see." Darling replied. Her bubbling anger seeming to dissipate. "Its a shame. I tried to convince Dunbarrow not to chase ghosts but that oaf is as hard headed as an oxen, and just as bright. It kept getting worse as he got older." She took a swig from her beer before continuing. "Anyways that's all in the past." She leaned closer, or as close as she could get with her bulk getting in the way of her and the table. "So that still doesn't explain why you are here."
ww"Well I thought since you sent Dunb-"
ww"I didn't send him anywhere! That fool has a limp and never was good at riding. The only place I sent him was home so that he could . But he snuck in at night, rummaged through my stuff and stole my notes." She paused, took a long breathe, then continued "I assume you want me to aid you on locating this crypt. You need to start convincing me why I would be so inclined."
 
The Forest I

The old man didnt move for what seemed like eternity, then slowly, ever so slowly, lifted his hand and pointed at the path leading to the left.
hi "You will arrive along the old road." His voice croaked, as if it awakened after a century long slumber. Not raising his head, he continued. "It winds with a troubling, serpent-like suggestion through the corrupted countryside. Leading only, I fear, to ever more tenebrous places. There is a sickness in the ancient pitted cobbles of the old road and on its writhing path you will face viciousness, violence, and perhaps other damnably transcendent terrors. So steel yourself and remember: there can be no bravery without madness. The old road will take you to hell, but in that gaping abyss you will find your redemption"
hi Travi stared at the old man sitting at the crossroads with two paths behind him, both can be used to enter the forest bordering Kilonia. He was on the verge of answering when an apple exploded at the side of the old man's head who was, an instant before, seated in front of him, and now lay on the floor. Is he dead?
hi "DONT LISTEN TO THAT GOOF! HE NEVER HELPS AROUND THE HOUSE AND ALWAYS SCARES STRANGERS" An old lady appeared from the other side of the road carrying a basket of apples, aiming another one at the dead man. "I SWEAR Ekter one day I wont hold back and that shovel you bought all those years back and never used will finally be put to use"
hi The old man, Ekter, stood just as quick as he went down. "I give I give" he said with his hands up. "Honey did I ever mention how strong your throwing arm is, quite useful for daily chores."
hi "God knows thats the only thing I do with you goofing around every day." She turned towards Travi "I'm sure Ekter spouted some nonsense about an old road using words he has not the vaguest idea of what they mean". She eyed the old man who began chewing on an apple. "What are you looking for dear?".
hi "The wood chopper, I hear he is a legend here but I know someone who says he is real". It was Darling who told him about the wood chopper, get his lamp and I will tell you all you need to know about Gurvan's Crypt.
hi "Oh he is real." replied Ekter, between mouthfuls of apple. "I saw him just yesterday with that lamp of his. Hard to miss at night to be honest."
hi "Aye, a lost man. Poor thing, everyone is scared of him but imagine how lonely he feels, just walking about every night, chopping wood again and again. Why do you need him again?"
hi "Erm, well, I want to have a word with him...that's all."
 
The Forest II

In a secluded glade in the forest Travi poured white sand in a circle and sat down in the center. He took five sharpened sticks and set them in a row before him, pushing them to various depths in the ground. The center stick, the highest one, rose about three feet; the ones on either side stood at two feet and the outer ones at a foot. The arcane mage uncoiled a yard's length of thin string. He took one end and fashioned a miniature noose which he tightened over the center stick near the top. He ran the line to the right, looping it once over the next shaft, then crossed over to the left side and and looped it again. He brought the string to the far right stick, muttering a few words as he did so. He wrapped it twice then brought it over to the far left stick, where he tied a knot and cut the trailing string. Travi leaned back and folded his hands on his lap. A frown creased his brow. He imagined his energy like the birth and death of a star, first emerging from dust around it, gathering into a tiny space before exploding into the vast emptiness. An outer stick twitched, turned slightly, then fell still. He repeated the process again increasing the size of the star before releasing the energy into the emptiness. All five shafts jerked. The center one bent toward the mage. The string tautened and a low-pitch hum emanated from it. Found You.

It took him the whole day but Travi finally found a source of light in the distance. No one is stupid enough to light up this part of the forest, not when shades are so close by. He could see them even when the clouds covered most of the moon, drifting to and fro like aimless ghost, but much deadlier. They drifted away when a creature walks next to them however they are attracted to light and will move with alarming speed to any such source. But this didnt feel right, no one should be able survive this part of the forest alone this long. Travi suppressed the urge to send his warren outwards to have a better idea of what he is facing since it may alert the wood chopper and it is safer to move slower and approach it while shielding himself from such magic.
hiThe light source appeared to stop moving. Travi inched closer until only a brush separated him from, he was sure of it now, a lamp. He stood still and looked around. The lamp was placed on the ground in a small clearing, no one or thing was nearby and there was no footprints or any indication that someone had been here recently. Travi moved slowly towards the lamp and bent over to pick it up when something grabbed his left foot.
hi“Shit!” he let his warren flow and blue flames appeared on his left hand but before he could let loose the stored energy another root grabbed his hand. And another. Before long his limbs were trapped in thick roots. Thicker than a grown man's forearm and twice as hard. He reached down into the depths within him and let out his warren with a burst..only to find out that it was empty. The roots were draining him from the inside. A creature emerged from the ground, human shaped but bark mottled its skin. It picked up the lamp and moved towards Travi. Pulling on a metal piece, the creature unhinged a window within the lamp, creating an opening which started pulling. Travi felt his own soul being torn away as the creature moved in closer. He kept trying to reach within his warrens but they abandoned him. He tugged and pulled but the root held still. The creature was an arms length now and reaching slowly towards Travi…suddenly an arrow appeared on the forehead of the creature with a thud. The creature paused, its arms almost touching Travi's forehead, before toppling on the ground.
hiA figure appeared as from the darkness itself. It moved with certainty towards the lamp, picked it up and sealed the opening.
hi…A wolf?
 

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Health: 100%

  • Addressed: Travi Von-Duresse

    Mentioned: Falaern Damaer

It had been some time—a week perhaps—since her run-in with the Crimson Shadow velahr. She'd taken some time to gather herself and some supplies before embarking on her journey. Anestead would be of no use to her in this job. The capital city of Vacaea was known more for its militaristic advancements and wealth rather than historical records and intelligence. Roxii knew she'd have to leave in search of a place with more knowledge than Vacaea could offer her. And what better place to start than Kilonia. It was not a short journey in the slightest, but the adventure gave her time to come to terms with her unpleasant circumstances.

Adventuring was always a nice way to spend her time when it didn't request anything of her; she'd done her fair share of relieving forgotten tombs of their lost artifacts, but there wasn't much risk to it beyond battling the dusty guardians, disabling and avoiding traps that had lost their efficacy, and hoping that the roof wouldn't cave in upon her head. Overall, they were simple jobs, ones that usually produced satisfactory results, and there was never a sense of urgency since it was more of a hobby rather than a livelihood. But with this job...

I am always watching.

Even now, she could feel Shalafi Damaer's phantom gaze upon her, monitoring her every move. It had been a while since she felt the watchful gaze of the assassin leader, and it took her some getting used to. It only took a few days for her to become accustomed to the probing eyes of the man, and soon, she was paying not much mind to the assassin leader's ghostly presence. Though it still sent a chill down her spine when Master Damaer made himself known to her, asserting his hold upon her and reminding her of the steel collar clamped tightly around her throat.

A hand instinctively went to the sadisla. The metal was cool to the touch, contrasting the heat contained within. The L'yrathi had tried finding a seam in the metalwork, to hopefully pry open or break the metal. She wasn't met with any sort of repercussions for trying to remove the steel that encircled her neck, and she wondered if it was because Falaern was confident in the steadfastness of the collar. it was likely, but her attempts had proved to be futile. The metal wouldn't budge, and there looked to be no end to the ring. She had stopped trying when she discovered the impossibility of trying to pry the band open.

The wolf-elf brought her shadows close to her and sent them out in the form of a large wave of her invisible aura. They revealed to her the forest that surrounded her. The trees rose up like columns at a grand palace, the canopies of leaves and hidden creatures swaying in the nightly breeze as the roots dug deep into the metta, keeping the tall taigin from toppling over. Underbrush clustered around the small spots where sunlight could filter through the thick leaves, offering a home to the small critters that were preyed upon by most of the predators of the forest. High above the canopies, Roxii's shadows could feel the flitting auras of the shades as they hunted for unsuspecting souls. They paid no mind to the blind assassin; instead, it seemed that they were trying to edge away from the suffocating shadows of the rogue. She wasn't complaining, though; that just meant that she could focus on her task at hand.

Roxii had tried getting information out of the people of Kilonia, even attempting to speak to the mages of the Academy, but no one had any answers to her questions, much less responded to her. They ignored her for the most part, until she'd come across a tip: speak to Darling. She'd heard of the underground crime boss from afar, but held no desires to meet the woman face to face. But if Darling D'Arle was the key to attaining information about the crypt Master Damaer wanted her to find, then she'd approach the lady and put aside her pride. At least for a time.

Until another approached the woman before the assassin. He was an indistinguishable character in a city of magical arts. He possessed a magical aura like most of the other inhabitants of the city, but she couldn't quite tell how strong he was with the stifling nature of the Thirsty Goat Tavern. If she had to pick a fight with the man, she'd have to do so carefully. But as the man was led to a more secluded part of the tavern, the shadowy rogue opted to instead eavesdrop on their conversation instead of inquiring of Darling's assistance directly. Her wolf-like ears picked up their conversation relatively easily, and it didn't take long for the assassin to discover that the man was on a similar mission: searching for the location of Gurvan's tomb. The gods had blessed her with this opportunity. Here was a pawn, one who could carry the torch ahead of her as she trailed behind him, acquiring the same knowledge without having to risk her own life.

And so Roxii followed the man, followed him to the forest on the outskirts of Kilonia as he sought after the lamp of the wood chopper. A trade for information. She'd heard tales of the dangers of the forest, of the creatures that preyed upon the unprepared and the uninformed, but she'd never heard of the "wood chopper". It sounded like some sort of old wives' tale, and the L'yrathi woman wondered if Darling just wanted to get rid of the man by sending him on some impossible quest. She supposed she'd do the same if she were in Darling D'Arle's position. But there was something about the words of D'Arle that made her question the falseness of the task.

She had stayed in the shadows, following the man from a distance. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, though a sort of anxiety tensed his muscles. Fear, she realized, though slight. He knew what lurked in the shadows, but he didn't know where they were. So he was cautious, even as he performed his ritual in a clearing. The blind hybrid monitored the man from afar, keeping her shadows reigned in since she was sure that he could sense her magic if she were too close. Instead, she relied on her senses: she listened to the man trump through the forest and set up the odd magical performance; she scented the air for any unusual scents, like the rottenness of the infected; she tasted the air for the oozing hatred of unruly predators.

And now she was following him through the forest again. Judging by the cool breeze brushing against her skin, she could tell that night had fallen. Nocturnal creatures emerged from their homes in search of food, and small critters hid from the nightly beasts. A haunting silence began to settle upon the forest, and Roxii could swear that she could hear the shades' howling. It sent gooseflesh prickling up her arms, but she ignored the unease that settled within her.

It was than that she noticed it. A source of power up ahead, tauntingly close to the stranger. Roxii didn't need to send her shadows out to feel the immense energy the source harbored, and she realized that this source was what the man was following. Was it the lamp? She couldn't quite tell from afar without risking the knowledge of her presence. And so, she hung back, listening carefully to the forest around them, as the stranger carefully approached the source of power.

"Shit!" The stranger cried out as he fell into the obvious trap, and the wolf-elf listened carefully as he struggled. Even from here, she could feel the man's aura depleting, being sucked out of him like drinking through a straw. The L'yrathi approached cautiously; the man was going to die at this rate, which wouldn't be beneficial to the wolf-elf. That lamp needed to get back to D'Arle, one way or another. But the target hadn't yet made itself known...

Until now. It emerged from the very ground and advanced upon the stranger. It picked up the calma and held it out towards the man, and she knew it wasn't to give the lantern to the man. No, she could feel the calma's power grow as it sucked the soul out of the man. It'd been some time since she'd seen such power from such a simple object. It was intriguing, but there was no time to dwell on the power of the calma. She needed to take advantage of her situation. The man was distracting the wood cutter now, and she could act now.

Roxii released her hold on her shadows and allowed them to form a picture in her mind of the scene before her. The man was losing the battle, quickly, and the wood cutter was relishing in his soon-to-be victory. The lamp was held out threateningly as the creature got closer, closer to the stranger. The blind archer brought the shadows to her fingers, manipulating them into the form of a bow. The shadows molded into the form she desired, materializing into the shape of a bow made of the sluggish energy, the darkness looking like tar with the consistency of oil. Deft fingers picked a solitary arrow from her quiver and nocked it into the bow. Within a moment, she was aiming towards the menacing creature, waiting for the opportune time to release the projectile.

She let go at the same time as she released a slow exhalation. The arrow soared quickly, silently, aimed for the creature looming over the dying stranger. Time didn't slow like the storytellers say; instead, it seemed to speed up as the draedan-shanele-tipped projectile raced towards the creature. With a splintering crack! it pierced the head of the wood cutter. A reverberating silence thundered through the forest, and even the shades eased their howling. The creature faltered, stunned, before collapsing to the ground in a heap, the calma clanking to the ground next to it before settling on its side.

Roxii approached finally, dismissing the bow of shadows and removing the slim longsword from its disguised sheath. Her feet were silent against the ground, meticulous, carefully placed steps making her presence questionable. Her grip tightened slightly on the sword as she approached the creature's body, and she allowed her shadows to search through it for any sign of life. Her magic returned no such results, but to be sure, she stepped up and brought the sword down upon the creature's neck. The thick skin—could she even call it skin?—of the wood cutter offered some resistance to her longsword, but the expertly sharpened sword cut through most of the neck. One more swing severed the head of the creature.

Satisfied with the unlikelihood of the creature getting back up, the wolf-elf walked up to the still-open calma and picked it up. Her arm tingled as the power of the artifact resonated through her, and there was a moment of hesitation before she forced herself to close the door on the lantern and lock it. She held it before her inquisitively, allowing her shadows to pass over the item. Well, as best she could. Her shadows seemed to edge away from the light, afraid of its properties. She wondered if it wasn't because of the energy itself, or because of what the energy could do. Or both.

"That was perhaps the most asinine thing I have ever witnessed someone do," she finally spoke. Her voice was cool, her words calculated, but it held the edge of a merciless killer. There was a slight accent underlining her voice, but it was of foreign descent, one that most wouldn't be able to decipher nor pinpoint. Roxii lowered the lantern, turning her head slightly towards the stranger to accentuate the fact that she was, indeed, speaking to him, despite the fact that a black cloth blindfold hid her eyes. "You ought to be more careful when seeking out powerful artifacts in the hands of powerful guardians."

 
The Task

“This way, watch old Togs over there, he never could handle his drink.” As Travi followed one of Darling's lackeys into her private suite he recalled the events since last night. There he was, almost dead even before taking his first step towards Gurvan's tomb. And here I thought I was a decent mage, lucky form me a L'yrathi happen to be nearby to save my sorry ass. The L'yrathi, Roxii, was a mystery to say the least. Appearing out of nowhere, saving him from a cursed spirit and then announcing that she had the same goal as him. He wanted to know who and what she was, how did she do that thing with the shadow, how did she know where he was and what he was doing there, but something told him to be careful with her. She opted to wait for him outside while he handed off his part of the bargain to Darling but something told him that she would know more than he did by the time he leaves the tavern.


Three knocks and the door opened, revealing a short woman with simple clothing. She looked at them both then promptly closed the door. Muffled voices could be heard on the other side then the door opened again by the same lady who ushered them in.
“Ahh If it aint Mr Travi. Back from the forest are ya? HAH! I see you dealt with poor Lorry.” Travi placed the lamp on an empty space on one of her numerous desks stacked with sheets of papers and empty bottles. “He always had a soft spot for his daughter and when the plague took her, he completely lost it. We never saw him again. Few years later we hear he has been chasing shades who looked like his daughter. And I don't need to tell you how easy a broken spirit can be possessed.” Darling shuffled towards the lamp and picked it up. “That's the best we can do for him now. No one should suffer that long. Should have ended it a long time ago.” She eyed the metal window of the lamp then placed it down with a satisfied grunt then looked at Travi who stood in his place patiently. “I guess you want to know more about Gurvan's tomb”…
 

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Health: 100%

  • Addressed: Falaern Damaer

    Mentioned: Travi Von-Duresse

The walk back to the tavern was a quiet one. The man—his name, she'd learned, was Travi—carried the lantern back and kept his thoughts to himself. She could tell that he harbored many questions, but his wariness and suspicion held his tongue. Unease tensed his shoulders, and she could feel his watchful gaze on her as he monitored her movements. He didn't trust her, despite the intrigue hidden within the layers of emotions. Smart man, she mused silently.

When they arrived at the tavern, Roxii chose to remain outside of the tavern. Taverns were one of her favorite places to spend her free time, but with the current circumstances, she supposed it would be better to be away from the rambunctious laughter, intoxicating scents, suffocating magic, and prying eyes. Her hearing was better than the average elf due to her mixed heritage, but it wasn't good enough to hear inside a locked and guarded room while being surrounded with rowdy, drunken patrons. Plus, she needed a clear head, and that meant staying away from the alluring taste of foreign alcohols.

And so, the blind L'yrathi skirted the outside of the Thirsty Goat, following Travi through the building by memory alone. She remembered the layout of the tavern and used that to her advantage to find an unguarded window and loiter near it. Her ears pricked up as she heard the voice of the woman greeting the man. "Ah, if it ain't Mr. Travi..." Her voice was clear and distinguishable, which was much better than the wolf-elf had expected. She'd thought that their voices would be muffled and difficult to comprehend, perhaps due to the nature of the room or some sort of spell cloaking their conversation. But here she was, listening to the conversation as though she were sitting in upon it herself.

The assassin listened to the information Darling D'Arle gave to Travi, welcoming the free information. She soaked in the location of the tomb, of the dangers that lurked and the superstitions and legends that surrounded it. The place she described was one Roxii was not familiar with: located within the Kingdom of Stoviel, hidden in the abandoned ruins of the lost city of Nin in the Merilis Forest. She mentally pocketed the location and wondered if Travi knew where she was talking about. She hoped he did; the rogue would rather not waste more time trying to find the forgotten tomb. She'd already wasted enough time just trying to find a starting point. But at least now she had something.

Roxii retrieved her canteen and took a sip of the cool water held within. It had taken them a better part of the night to get back to the city, and now daylight was warming her face. Before long, the summer sun would be beating down upon the city of magic, sucking the Kilonians and travelers alike dry. Her thumb traced the crest engraved upon the side of the canteen. The lines were crowded and close together, making it difficult for her thumb—though slender—to trace each individual line, curve, and detail. But she knew what it looked like, what past it referred to. An unwarranted memory flashed across her mind.

Screams. Crying. Shadows and fire. Blood. Fear. Betrayal. "Traitor!" "Murderer!"

"Do you miss it?" The velglorn hardly reacted to Master Damaer's presence. She could feel his otherworldly presence as he appeared, his impressive magic stifling her own. Rather than betraying the slight chill of fear that gripped her, from the reminder that he held all the cards, that he controlled her every move, Roxii instead tilted her head slightly, silently asking what the man meant by "it". Master Damaer leaned against the wall beside her and crossed his arms over his chest casually, playing the role of a bored commoner. "Your life," he clarified. "The one that was stolen from you."

"No," Roxii answered bluntly. "What's done is done."

A moment of silence passed between the two. Whether Falaern believed her or not was unclear. Her voice was harsh and brusque, but her answer lacked conviction, and she knew that.

But Shalafi Damaer dropped the subject for one that interested him much more than petty small talk. "Tathin ai vell klar a Gurvan'ka teshuel?" The elvish dialect was one that was not understood by most, even by purebred elves, but Roxii understood the question.

The wolf-elf nodded towards the closed window to her left. "Toiu del faileith vell trafdureth naust. An sa fal Stoviel. Via nid laire wund vell eset, revar."

She'd hoped that Master Damaer would somehow know where Stoviel was and share the information with her, but he only slowly nodded his head as the information was given to him. He then gave her a curt nod of approval. "Tal ta Stoviel. Ragure vell teshuel." And with that, the assassin leader disappeared on the wind, leaving Roxii alone to her own devices.

Hearing Travi and D'Arle's conversation coming to an end, the wolf-elf made her way back to the front of the Thirsty Goat Tavern, waiting on Travi to join her again so that they may begin their journey.

 
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