Fantasy Natural Selection

[AnimusLight]

Jezebel rubs the bruised side of her back as she waits out for the rest of the fight to finish. Her rib cage is just a bruised but not like the entirety of her back. At least she was somewhat useful until being swatted down like some bug. The leftover werewolves have no fighting chance to the numbers of their group. The battle ends with werewolf corpses scatter around the forest ground. Blood sweeps into the dirt and grass from their open wounds; if one where to come upon this scene, they would wonder whether another group of ferocious monsters slaughtered the pack.

The portion of the group she's sticking with have made a bloody mess with their part in the fight. The combined forces of bear and tree seem to be a terrifying duo from the scene that played out. Even Jezebel has bits of blood on her uniform despite not killing any of the werewolves. Alaria did make the fight seem more graceful but all in all, the wolfs stood no chance to the group from the start.

The monk listens in on another of Morgrim's speeches. She wonders if the walking corpse will always say something after each battle. It doesn't bother her; it's actually the opposite. What he conveys makes it sound like she's part of something bigger than her. If this experience wasn't able to convince her teacher that she's learning more about the world, she doesn't know what else would.

Jezebel lets out a tired groan, massaging her aching limbs further. She knows there's probably healers among the group but since she's not bleeding nor did she kill anything, she believes she can pull through with just bruises. Jezebel hums,"I kind of want to sleep after all that jumping and swishing I've been doing. Too much of my magic has been used." She glances at Riktos before whispering to Alaria, "How long do you think he'll be stuck like that? I kind of want him to stay all fluffy and ferocious."

Anaxileah Alstromeria CarpeNoctem1213

 

[Javax]

Health: 99%

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• Tags: Federoff | Morgrim
  
  Addressed: Crow [Vaguely]
  
  Mentioned: Morgrim
• Status: Healthy
  
  Location: Forest
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ 28 Arrows
  ‣ Shadow Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous: N/A
• Notes: N/A
  
  [Character Sheet]

Roxii allowed her invisible shadows to crawl over the area. It quickly became a battlefield as bodily fluids soaked the ground and growls and roars and taunts filled the air. But the blind assassin didn't let the members of her party nor their adversaries distract her from her own opponent. The enraged lycanthrope before her was one of the largest in the pack, at least twice or even three times the rogue's size. The Lythari certainly didn't possess the necessary strength to take down the brute of a wolf, but her speed definitely matched the werewolf's. Not to mention her wits and cunning far surpassed what little the werewolf possessed.

The deformed wolf attacked again, this time keeping his throat and underbelly hidden so it wasn't as easy to hit. It charged at her with unnatural speed to ram into her with all its strength, but the wolf-elf leaped upwards. The lycan made to grab at her legs to keep her in its path of destruction, but the small hybrid's lithe body was too quick as she began flipping forward, slammed both of her shadow daggers into the wolf's shoulder blades, twisted, and landed on its furry back as if she were simply riding a horse. It let out a furious, guttural scream of pain and anger, but before its note could reach an end, she grabbed the sides of the werewolf's head and gave it a quick jerk. Its neck cracked with ease, and its scream was cut off abruptly.

The beast collapsed to the ground, dead. Its head was turned at an odd angle due to the broken neck and blood matted its fur. Roxii retrieved both of her daggers, slinging them towards the ground with enough force to scatter the thick blood off their blades, and was met with a few more beasts. Before they could even make a move, an oddly shaped ball—a bomb, she quickly realized—rolled into their midst and exploded, releasing a hardly fatal concoction. They swayed on their feet before collapsing to the ground in temporary slumber. She then felt the ghost-boy's presence near her. Actually, on her. His hand touched her shoulder, and Roxii felt the familiar feeling of disappearing from mortal eyes—and, most of the time, immortal eyes.

Roxii silently thanked the ghost-boy and attacked the sleeping wolves. It didn't take her long to walk up to the giant werewolves and either snap their necks, plunge a dagger into their eye, or slice their throats. Within moments, all of their enemies were lying on the blood-soaked dirt. The last bit of her part of the battle was rather boring, but the boy only meant good, to make things easier on the group. She couldn't blame his actions; they had a long journey ahead of them, and they would need any help they could get if this stupid plan was to even work.

The blind rogue made her way back to the assembled group. She sheathed the daggers when she arrived, somewhat impressed with how efficiently the group took down the lycanthropes. Perhaps they wouldn't be that useless. Before the undead Guide could finish his post-battle speech, the shadowy assassin was already continuing the journey towards Ellanor. His ramblings were already beginning to be annoying, and if he was going to give them a motivational speech or pep-talk after every hardship, then he was going to be killed very soon. Either by the wolf hybrid or by one of the others who seemed just as irritated. It also didn't help that they didn't have all the time in the world. He was wasting time with his talks. If they could just get moving and stay moving, this mission would be finished much faster, and Roxii will never have to be around others ever again.

 

[Federoff]

Inventory:
Twin Daggers, Leather Armor, Hat

Locations:
Forest

Tags:
Directly: CarpeNoctem1213 Alstromeria Morgrim Javax
Mentions: Anaxileah

Guide:
Bold = Emphasis on Word
"Quotes" = Speaking
Italicized = Thoughts
"Italicized Quotes" = Speaking Thoughts connected to emotions
​

Wisdom knows enduring is pain. He hurts for her, another of many he couldn't save. He carries unnecessary deaths

Wisps flying through the air they're all singing. Coffers, coffins, corpses that aren't dead. A song crying out in the dark. The old songs and the new songs colliding, clashing, contending, creating a new song. The song is new yet old, a song that is older than man itself. Predator against Prey, man against Beast. Daggers piercing and pinning into flesh, magic flying through the air, spells being casted deliberately this time, not out of desperation but rather out of necessity. Each were fighting against the pack of feral werewolves. The two he brought into the shadows quietly thanked him in their own way, Dakul with a grin and Roxii with a simple nod of her head, before continuing the fight. Before all the group could do was retaliate, but thanks to the combined efforts of everyone they could be the one's on the attacking side of this fight. Roxii quickly took the opportunity present to her and took the life of the werewolves that his bombs has knocked out and Alaria's vines had immobilized, while Dakul sent out a barrage of ice daggers into the throats of one of the frenzied beasts trying to attack them.

The final of the, now, blinded werewolves continued to try and attack Crow, trying to find the young boy in the shadows was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even for a werewolf the boy was hard to track, although they had an easier time than what an elf or a human would have due to their heightened sense of smell. Evading the first flash of claws thrown his way Crow's daggers would make their way to, and penetrate, the underside of it's arm. One in the arm and the other in the elbow, rendering that arm useless. The boy, unlike people like Roxii and Morgrim, had no real training to speak of when it came to combat. The daggers just went where it hurts. It may not have been as methodical their's were but it was just as effective. With a loud howl of pain the werewolf would retract the now wounded arm while using its other one to strike Crow's arm, barely scratching the young boy as he lunged back and away from the full brunt of the attack. Mistaking this as an opening the werewolf would lung full force at Crow, jaws open and ready to crunch down on the arm of the boy. This would prove to be a fatal mistake however.

With a simple side step Crow would evade the fate of loosing an arm, plunging his daggers into two different sides of the beasts neck and finishing the last of the werewolves and ending the fight. Pulling his daggers out of the beasts neck and placing them back on his belt, Crow would examine the aftermath of their skirmish, his soft eyes teal checking on the rest of the group out of concern for their safety. For the most part everyone seemed relatively okay, with just a few scratch marks to show. While scanning the crowd he would catch a glimpse of the ice elf giving him a smirk for his previous action. Returning the smirk with a friendly smile he would then look to his own wound, which was now giving off a light amount of blood. The wound was light and he was sure it could be patched up later.


With the battle over and Morgrim taking lead once again, Crow would return back to following right behind Morgrim, who was no longer in front as for the time being Roxii was now ahead of the group. As they made their way through the forest people would continue to converse with one another, with only a few exceptions. The man who was now a bear was one of those exceptions. It was obvious why, however, as the massive bear was dragging one of the dead bodies with it's mouth. When they next stopped Crow imagined that the bear would more than likely devour the corpse of the beast they just fought. The boy never got why people needed to eat but gave up questioning it a long time ago. "You did well, man that is now a bear" He smiled at Riktos. He didn't expect much of a reply but it was enough for Crow.


While they continued to walk their way through the forest Crow would begin to sense another's thoughts begin to drift. Morgrim's mind would wander once again, albeit only for a brief moment. However this simple flash of pain would open up a way for Crow once again. Memories flooded the young boys mind as the past was revealed to him once again, and once again he felt the weight Morgrim now bared. Pain, sadness, guilt. Ashes raining down as the black smoke blackened the sky. It's my fault.

Similar to the way he spoke back at the tavern, and their first meeting beforehand, the young boy would make a mysterious monologue with his softly spoken tone. "Wisdom knows enduring is pain. He hurts for her, another of many he couldn't save. He carries unnecessary deaths."

His comment would not be obviously directed at anyone, just like much of his spoken words. However his next words would be drastically different than before. As Morgrim began to strike up a conversation with Dakul, one of the few mages within their party, Crow would slowly approach Morgrim, ending up by his side. Like a breeze on a summer afternoon his impact on the world around him was minimal and almost insignificant, even the gloved hand he had momentarily placed on Morgrim's shoulder. Staying only for a few brief moments before moving on. "You want it to be your fault, so there's a reason and it's not so frightening. But its not true. It wasn't your fault."

As quickly as Crow appeared next to Morgrim and Dakul he would also disappear just as quick, his feet carrying him over to the next person. That person would be the blind lythari that he had used his own powers on previously in the fight. He had sensed that he had disappointed her with what he did in that fight, even if it was for the better. She hates it all because of the darkness behind the door. Some doors should stay shut. "Your disappointed. I'm sorry"
​

Actions

Fighting werewolf, looking around after battle, interacting with Dakul, Morgrim, Riktos, and Roxii

 

[Anaxileah]

​

ADDRESSED
Compass

MENTIONED
shadowz1995

STATUS
Becoming Distracted -> Returning to the Group

MOOD
Perplexed, Argumentative, Curious

LOCATION
Ravenscrye -> Markets -> Sanctuary Gate -> Forest

INVENTORY
BIG ASS AXE, MOFO

NOTES
*Vras - Kill, Killer​

There were many things for the orc female to respond to at once, which was all very perplexing to the small-minded woman. First, the pretty bunny lady turned pink at her compliment. Do human-animals normally do that? Kar'slet would have to ask about that later. Then the man who smelled sandy stood between her and and the bunny girl, in a very recognizable defensive position. Kars frowned and furrowed her brows together, confused at his response. To a passerby, it would appear that she was plotting the death of the sandman via ripping him apart mentally. He then took the pretty bunny lady away, which angered Kars. She wouldn't hurt the Beastkin, especially since they were all part of the same group to begin with. It wasn't strategically sound.

Before she could charge after the sandman and the rabbit woman, the smelly man spoke to her, assuring her that the Silver Legion was the enemy, not their employer. Kar'slet huffed in acknowledgement, which may or may not have sounded more like a grunt. She didn't care. Kars followed in suit of the group as they left the Ravenscrye tavern, fully focused on keeping up with everyone, at least until she saw someone about to make a purchase on a poorly made weapon. "WAIT!" Kar'slet called out to the man about to make the purchase, deviating from the group entirely as she wove between the people passing through. As soon as she reached the small weapons' stand, she received a nasty look from the shop owner but thought nothing of it as she put a hand on the weapon the purchaser was about to give money away for.

"This blade, not good. Poor maker. Very bad form. Do not waste money on shit sword." Kar'slet was proud of her profound use of profanity in the English language as she spoke to the much taller male, her tusks showing moreso as she grinned when she unsheathed her own weapon. "See how blade curve? How it attaches to handle, made from good wood? Is much better style. Go to orc village, they make best weapon. Not half-done work like this." Of course, after saying this and causing the shop owner to lose a customer, it seemed as though she would never hear the end of it. For ages, the man went on and on, and in her best possible English, she argued back. It was about a half hour before she realized the group was gone, causing her to place her hand on the man's face and shove him back into his shop before lumbering off towards the direction the group was heading.

It was irritating, but Kar'slet managed to make the guards at Sanctuary's gate tell her which direction her group headed in after a couple thrashes or so. Might have been more than a couple. Either way, Kar'slet was jogging in their general direction, and with the bountiful amount of muscle she had in her body, she was able to catch up soon enough. Although, it wasn't soon enough for her when she saw the scattered bodies that littered the ground, obviously indicating that a fight had occurred, and she wasn't involved. The stout, orcish female snarled in anger, but the small rustles she heard and felt in her pocket caused her anger to dissipate, since that normally meant that her mouse, Vras*, was awake. She reached into her pocket with a toothy grin, feeling her mouse climb into her hand and squeak as she lifted it from her pocket. The small creature sniffed her hand and rubbed her palm with its face before crawling onto her opposite shoulder as she placed her hand there.

Her frustration gone, the orcish female came up behind the group, looking forward to future battles. Anger bubbled up inside her as she noticed the sandman nearby, walking ahead of the bunny girl. Kar'slet took that opportunity to approach the small woman, her head cocked to the side. "You and sand man leave early. After you turn pink. Why you turn pink? Why man defend?" The green-skinned orc was trying very hard to speak the common tongue of those around her rather than her own language, which would have been much easier for the barbaric woman. Nonetheless, she tried to make all of the points she had in her mind, and hoped the woman would understand as they continued to walk in the group.​

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano
Heavy boots plant themselves firmly on a collection of twigs and dried leaves along the forest floor. Howling of wolves can be heard in the distance but the two men present were more focused on the flail being dragged along the ground. One was clad in armour from head to toe with a strange scroll wrapped around his forearm tucked in beneath a bracer. The other was well dressed, covered in blood and scrambling along the forest floor with two feet pointing in opposite directions. "I think we've played enough, don't you?"
"Oh god. Please no! I swear I'm not a whatever you said. Please! Just let me go. I won't tell anyone I swear it." The man with broken ankles looks over his shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks. He digs his fingers into the dirt and tries desperately to pull himself away from the armoured man. "Your name is Yarvolt Bloom?" The armoured man closes the distance between the two, crunching leaves underfoot as he went. He places his boot on the man's right ankle and twists. The man is obviously in and pain and yells out his response, "Yes! Yes. Please let me go. I'll do anything. Do you want gold? I have gold. I have lots of it. I can pay you. Whatever you're being paid I can pay you double." The man slumps his head into the dirt of the forest floor and begins to cry loudly, hearing a jingling of chains rubbing against one another.
"Let me be honest, Yarvolt. My name is Leon and I'm not being paid to do this. I do this because it's my sworn duty. I'm doing this," he pauses to lean closer to the man's ear, whispering a phrase imbued with pure magical power, "because I enjoy it." He grabs the man's hair with his free hand and forces it to the side where the two would meet eye to eye. Even through his visor his gaze turned the lies and will to live of Yarvolt into fleeting concepts carried away by the gentle breeze.

"Your name?"
"Yarvolt Bloom."
"Your sins?"
"I am a liar. I am an adulterer. I am a gambler. I feed the advisers of the king of Ellanor false information from my sponsors. He believes what we say and builds upon it his own lies. I hired slavers from the dark to hunt down beastkin. I -"
"I've heard enough. You are released. Your sentence is not for the court to decide, but the jury." Yarvolt blinks twice, the second time harder than the first. He was released from his trance of confession and looks up to Leon with a glint of hope in his eyes. "The jury? You mean you won't kill me? You'll spare me?" Leon pulls his hair once more and begins to feed the chain of his flail beneath the man's throat. He deliberately chooses not to answer the question. Laughing with exhaustion he begins to thank Leon. Saying, "Thank you. I assure you that any jury will find me innocent. Thank you, sir. Thank yo-eugh-hughk"
Leon tightens his grip on the ball and rod of the flail, tugging harder. The chain begins to move up the throat towards the jaw so he decides to place his boot on the back of his head to stop movement. He feels tugging on the chain as the sinner tries desperately to free himself from the choking. This continues for a minute until the resisting stopped where he leans closer to the body and feels for a pulse. There was none. He smiles and looks down at the body. "It was a," pausing to smirk beneath his helm, "hung jury." He drags the chain over the head and returns it back to his belt. He pauses to look around at the small camp already established by the man and his hunting friends. One man was propped against a large tree and the other had been struck in the head with the flail, falling into the camp fire. One name off the list, two casualties.

He makes his way over to the camp and waits. The howling of the wolves had come to a halt which meant they'd either been hunted down or they'd found themselves a kill. Either way, he didn't intend to take any unnecessary risks. If they were hunters they'd come to him, if the wolves had found a kill they wouldn't need to risk it coming over to him. He took out his scroll from beneath his bracer, planted his helmet to the ground, and made sure he'd done as his duty was in this place. He scans the list and smiles. The name 'Yarvolt Bloom' was slowly etched away as he watched and a new name was written in its place. 'Bernard Harding'. He made a note of it and carefully slid it back in place beneath his bracer. It went in smoothly. He picked his helmet back up from the ground and slung it under his arm.
As he waited around for trouble to find him, he planned to do some snooping around the campsite and find whatever he could to enjoy while he was there. Rummaging through the two tents present he found a small bag of berries, three sleeping rolls, feathered pillows, and despite him not knowing a thing about archery he identified a quiver and what appeared to be eight well made arrows. The bow was nowhere to be seen however. This helped him come to the conclusion that at least one other hunter was absent from the camp. As he sat by the fire, he began to question the lack of bedroll for the man. Perhaps there wasn't a forth and they'd just lost their bow while hunting.

 

[CarpeNoctem1213]

​

Health: 58%

• ※
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• Tags:
  
  Adressed: Morgrim
  
  Mentioned: People​
• Location:
  
  Forest​
  
  Mood:
  
  Tired, Proud​
• Inventory:
  
  Staff
  Traveling clothes
  Satchel​
• Notes:
  
  Guina: "Undead"​

Dakul watched the Guide curiously as he stood in front of the party once again, his own chest torn open, exposing bone and--what was that strange object inside his chest? Dakul barely managed to get a glance at the black sphere in the [guina's chest before the necromancer chugged a potion and poured it over his chest, sealing his wounds shut. The Guide launched into another speech, which Dakul half-listened to as he tended his own wounds. His hand glowed blue-white and he muttered under his breath, waving the glowing hand over the wound on his shoulder. An icy film spread under his hand over the wound, sealing it shut and staunching the bleeding. He didn't want to expend too much mana, though, so the healing process of the spell would take longer than usual, but the ice would slowly knit his flesh back together before evening.

After his speech, the Guide approached Dakul, giving him a pat on the back that made his wounds flair up with fresh pain, he winced, but didn't cry out, which was his first instinct. He gave the necromancer a pondering look at the question as he began to walk, thinking for a minute.

"I've mostly studied evocation magics," he said, a bit of pride sneaking into his tone. "I've only studied at the college for the last three years, but I've studied magic in various capacities since I was young. I always had an affinity for cryomancy, a few of the professors at the college told me I have a stronger connection to the cold than is usual for our people, apparently."​

 

[Luckz]

Marie Silverton
Marie holstered her knife, picking up her metal snake and allowing it to wrap itdelf up and around her wrist and arm, their original position before the attack. "Oh my lord, I think that's the most I have ever moved in my life to execute a target, I'm lucky I have had practice with the guards," she moaned as she patted her black cloak and wiped off the mud, she was now peckish but kept her mouth closed in this pursuit. The vampire smiled as her pinkish eyed caught those of the Holy Man she had conversed eith earlier. Marie turned slightly, brought up a perfect and manicured hand and waved a gently wave towards him, along with a sweet smile revealing a pair of fangs, though she doubted he'd be able to see them from where he was standing. She then turned her attention to the sand man.

"You're enjoying this too much honey but I could show you something more invigorating," she said cryptically before flipping her black hood back up onto her head and her face once again covered. Marie knelt down beside a werewolf and in a swift couple of seconds, took the claws off of one paw and removed the 4 biggest canines. "Gift for father," she smiled to herself before pocketing them and following the group from behind, she gestured for the Priest Man to follow.

shadowz1995 JokerValentine

 

[Morgrim]

Morgrim Hemwick
Mentions: CarpeNoctem1213 Crumbli
Hiking and Talking​

They were now on the move. After his short little speech he saw how annoyed most of the group was, and with a disgruntled shrug he waved it off. He would try to hold back on the speeches as after all this was a learning process for him as well. He was now spending his time talk with the ice elf Dakul, who seemed very proud of his progress in three years, and affinity for cold magic. Morgrim was quite proud of his own abilities as well, even though he had very little time of formal training.

"I know what you mean Dakul. I am very proud of my own abilities as well. I only spent an actual year in schooling, but I spent much time practicing and looking over books that were left behind. My village was always proud of necromancy, and I took it up as my proficiency. I was summoning undead from the time I was twelve so I would say I am quite the prodigy." Morgrim boasted happily about his abilities for a little time while they kept walking, more questions were to follow, but eventually they made their way unto a camp.

Morgrim saw one man standing there, but there was too much equipment for just one guy to carry, and then he could see the bodies. It looked as if the armour clad man had killed them, and he wondered if they were going to have another fight on their hand. Perhaps the man was just the bait while there were plenty of others hiding in the cover of the forest, still though he would get some answers out of him. Morgrim did have a very bad feeling about this man, maybe it was the way he carried himself, but he felt a quiet rage welling up inside of him.

"You there, explain this. What are you doing here, and why did you kill them? Are you some bandit or mercenary?" Morgrim idly gripped onto two of his daggers, the smooth bone of the weapons material caressing his fingers. Should the man answer the question in the wrong way he would feel one of the blades sticking in his throat.

 

[Compass]

Ryan flinched as the orc woman's voice bellowed beside her, unsurprised only by her approach. Her brown eyes looked to her as she spoke, flickering ahead to Soma only at the mention of the sand man. She hadn't really spoken to anyone in the group aside from Soma, so Ryan found herself instinctively taking a moment to regain composure. With Soma, she could complain and laugh and be loud, but with others she was concerned about maintaining a more likeable personality.

Pink? What was Kar'slet talking about? Had she blushed when confronted in the tavern? "Oh, um. I was embarrassed, I guess. There was a lot going on," she recalled. Truly the compliment from the orc had be flattering, if strange, but a crowd Ryan could handle. But Kar'slet alone could be a crowd. A smile came to the beastkin's lips at the thought with a touch of admiration. The orc hadn't a care what others thought of her, it seemed.

"As for, uh, Sandman," Ryan continued, "we just needed a minute to talk. We're partners." She may have continued, but the group came to a slow stop. Up ahead, Morgrim confronted a stranger. Ryan squinted ahead and then looked around, her ears tensing and turning as she listened for any hints that they weren't alone. The werewolves had been frightful, but men were only men.

 

[JokerValentine]

Interacting with: Luckz
Mentions: shadowz1995

It was not considered very proper to take trophies from the dead, be them a creature of malice or not. The pale woman seemed delighted to have an audience of her own to watch the show. With the dogs now lying low in a dishonorable death, the priest forced a smile on his face, hiding his discomfort with death. His complexion changed at her comments of her new trophies: gift for father. Surely it was not in reference to him, was it? He would not want gifts such as those (even if it was rather rude to refuse the kindness of another).

Now that truly wasn't invigorating for him, at least below the surface. It was discomforting. Of course, the female now beckoned him to follow, and putting his entire trust in her for his safety he obliged, taking gentle steps around the carcasses of the fallen. It seemed a miracle that seemingly nobody had been injured in the slightest at the hands of these wolves. The party was still whole, albeit a bit divided. Nobody dared talk to the priest, perhaps because of his pacifism or involvement in the Divine the others so denied the existence of. But at least the mystery lady had the kindness to discuss anything with him.

The aged priest quickly caught up to her, seeing as the group was now on the move. "I suppose your gift is for a different father than myself," he began awkwardly, "You surely must have learned such fluid moves from him." Thomas could only speculate as much, as he did not know this lady at all. He did not even know her name, nor the names of her compatriots that fought at her side. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to learn more. "Do tell me, my lady, how may I address you? I would think it would be considered more proper to have a name to your complexion."

 

[Alstromeria]

The bear was done following. The group had come to a small little camp. The bear dropped the wolf, settling down closer to the still smouldering ashes of the campfire. The voice in the bears head said it did a good job. The bear tucked its hind legs under itself, then promptly dragged the corpse of the werewolf closer to it with the other two.

The bear wiggled its ears, glancing around. Making sure nobody would take its meal, and glad to find no one who was interested, the bear promptly stuck its teeth into the carcass, eating as neatly as a bear could. Which is to say, not very. It only took the bear about five minutes to make a dent in the carcass substantial enough so that it could not eat anything else off of it, so the bear picked it up my the neck again and dumped it at the edge of the woods.

The bear decided to go to sleep. It heard the voice in its head telling him it was a good idea too, so they were in agreement. The bear started snuffling at the ground, finding a good place to lay. When he did, he immediately rolled onto its back, then its side, and grabbed ahold of the nearest thing. The bear let out a large huff and went to bed.

It had been a long day, but a good day. The voice in the bears head recounted the events. A good drink, a good laugh, a good fight, a good adventure, and a good rest. The bear only cared about two of those things, but the man would be happy if only the meal, fight, and rest requirements were met. The fact that there was three other points mixed in there made Riktos think it was a pretty damn good day. And damn, he couldn't wait till tomorrow.

 

[Anaxileah]

​

It did not take long for the barbaric canines to be finished off entirely, what with the ten, fifteen people present. One was almost up to her, despite being atop Riktos' back, but his rearing caused both the wolf and Alaria to be caught off guard. Thanks to her reptilian blood, however, she was able to hold on and keep her balance. Jezebel was on the ground beside a...tree...woman...and the thief was done being bombarded by the rest of the assailants, back to the side of the rabbit hybrid. It was then Alaria noticed the vampire woman who had earlier used the back of the bear to launch herself to one of the enemies, very much intriguing the green-haired elf-reptile, especially due to the metallic snakes she utilized during combat. That woman was now interacting with the religious man, and the others were making their way onwards. Riktos picked up one of the dead wolves on the way, much to Alaria's distaste - mainly because they just fought these gross creatures, they didn't appear all that appetizing - but the female just wrinkled her nose and turned to look the other way as she remained on his back, her bow back on her back.

Elves, a tree, a ghost boy, humans, animal-people, an undead man, etc...a truly interesting group, which Alaria was sure the others had already remarked on mentally as well. As they were all continuing on towards their destination, the female known as Jezebel spoke to Alaria, remarking on Riktos' current condition. "How long do you think he'll be stuck like that? I kind of want him to stay all fluffy and ferocious." Alaria had to hold back a snicker when Jezebel mentioned his fluffiness and nodded to her, a grin displayed on her very reptilian face. "Definitely should stay this way for a while. I'm hoping he stays this way through the night, he's pretty warm." Alaria whispered back before patting Riktos' back reassuringly, a smile on her face as they moved forward. Her leg was healing rather nicely, and when they got to their safe spot, Alaria would check to make sure everyone was okay and safe to rest. The continuation of the trip was rather uneventful, at least until they came upon a camp that reeked of death and blood. A male completely clad in armor stood amongst the bodies, quite obviously responsible for their unlively presence. Alaria dismounted from Riktos' back, unsure of what to make of the newcomer, but she was wary.

Riktos, on the other hand, appeared to be the opposite of such. It was slightly appalling watching the bear dig into the corpse of the wolf, but it was natural, so it didn't bother Alaria as much as it would have bothered most. Keeping an eye on the newcomer, Alaria checked on Jezebel and Dakul, ensuring that both of them were out of immediate harm's way, and that whatever wounds they have were treated with her natural healing gauze and wrapped up with the bandages she kept on her at all time (inside her satchel). It only took a couple minutes to make sure all that were wounded were taken care of, and once she finished doing so, Alaria removed her cloak, her skin changing from reptilian back to her elven appearance, her creamy tan pallor glowing softly in the view of the setting sun. She folded the cloak up and removed the leather that covered her upper torso, allowing her body to breathe more freely from beneath all of the clothing she covered herself with. Her chest was wrapped, of course, but the reptilian hybrid figured everyone there has seen more odd things than she, so it didn't matter if her scales were openly visible along with tattoos and any other markings. She kept her tight-fitting bottoms on, however, because the only part of her lower body that needed to be exposed were her feet, nothing else took priority over that. That being said, what she previously exposed was soon covered with thick, dark fur that surrounded her entire body as she was held to the warm being that was Riktos. Her face immediately flushed green, but no matter how many times she tried removing his arm, he refused to budge, and that meant neither would she. Plus, the warmth she felt through him was very relaxing, very soothing, and made her very..sleepy... Alaria quickly dozed off in the bear's grasp, rendered incapable of doing much other than sleep.​

Addressed: Alstromeria AnimusLight | Mentioned: Crumbli | Status: Sitting on Riktos' Back -> Preparing for Camp -> Sleepin' | Mood: Amused -> Wary -> Sleeeeeepy | Location: Wolf Fight -> Camp of Dead Peeps | Inventory: Satchel, bow, armor, arrows x23 (she can easily make more), hunting knife, cloak | Notes: Blurp.​

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano Direct: Morgrim | Mentions: Alstromeria Anaxileah

Lost in his thoughts while staring at the peeling flesh of the burning corpse's face, Leon remains oblivious to the approaching group's footsteps. He's pulled from his private world by the crackling of the wood and a strong scent of burning hair. If he could smell it, chances were that other predators around could too. Wanting to avoid attention that wasn't needed, he heaves himself from the dirt and stretches his back. As he's stretching, he hears the loud beckon of a mysterious stranger. He turns around slowly to avoid startling the man. He wasn't stupid and he knew that the three corpses laying about wouldn't make him come off as the most cuddly person. Once his front was towards the dark figure he narrowed his gaze to identify what the man was. He notices other figures and slowly nods his head as he assesses his chances of coming out victorious from a battle so soon with so many. He realises the odds are far from in his favour and decides to take the more friendly approach to this, reducing the risk of causing a confrontation that would get violent.

"You ask many questions my friend but know I am no threat. I am a justiciar and these were my accused. Come. Join me here. I'll give you more detail if you do." He raises his hand and waves to group of dark figures, keeping his hands as far away from his weapons as he could while remaining relaxed. He turns his back to the man and leans over to pick up the burning corpse. He drags it from the fire and discards it over with the other body propped up against the tree. He groans and looks at the figures coming closer to his dying fire. They weren't exactly human but what could he expect from forest people. He was slow to realise none of them were. He watches the bear tear apart the werewolf carcass with great speed and grows confused. It seemed to him that the questions wouldn't remain one sided for very long.

He sets himself down in the faint glow of the fire and sighs, looking over to the group members. "Veritas wouldn't let you enter these woods and encounter myself unless we were destined to work together. I'm willing to join your march so long as you're headed to the city of Ellanor. I've a duty to cleanse the lies and shadows of that city, regardless of my company. It might even aid in your pardoning of past sins." His comments were aimed at the man he'd spoken to previously but as he spoke he began to note a stench. It wasn't of rotting meat, or evil, but of death. It doesn't take him long to realise he was talking about redemption with one of the undead. It might have been funny for anyone outside of the faith as keepers of religion and undead are common opposites, but in the way of Veritas the undead posed as nothing. They were neither a foe nor a friend. They were simply the entities that were brought back to complete their purpose. So long as that purpose wasn't one of corruption, falsehood, and bringing harm to those deemed innocent there was no reason for the two to be poised as enemies.

His eyes trail over to the bear once more, noticing it now had a woman in its embrace. These adventurers were strange. He didn't care much for them now but he could tell their strange dynamic was something that you either loved or hated. He exhales abruptly through his nose trying to figure out exactly what everyone's origin was at a glance. At least those he saw. He was investing a lot of trust in this group to appear passive and knew by revealing them to the forest he would ruin everything. It was a long shot but he'd have to trust they were just good people.

 

[AnimusLight]

A small giggle escapes from the monk's lips at Alaria's response. She's a bit envious that the elven hybrid gets to mount an animal. If Jezebel were to choose an animal to ride into battle, she wants either a large canine- preferably not the hungry werewolves they met back there- or maybe an elephant? She gazes into the darker parts of the forest, listening if there is anything else out there. What Morgrim said makes her wonder if anything else will try to ambush them. Despite the victory, the group does look tired. She keeps in mind that most are in the same boat as her, just having arrived to Sanctuary then being thrown back into traveling minutes later. As if projecting her thoughts, she glances to the more front of the group where the guide is before returning her eyes to the forest surroundings. Moments later a camp is in sight.

Two tents are by a man in a full suit of armor who stands by a campfire. Flesh. Burning flesh. The scent is just as bad as their smelly guide so she's surprised she's not gagging. She rubs her nose. From the werewolf encounter, Jezebel is starting to understand this journey isn't going to be without its gruesome moments. While Morgrim's preoccupied with the stranger, Alaria works on the wounded. Jezebel is included on this, taking the helping hand with gratitude. Before she can say her thanks to Alaria, Riktos- in bear fluff form- pulls the elven hybrid to him and the two fall asleep. The monk giggles in amusement at the scene, before focusing her attention back to the matter at hand.

The stranger announces his willingness to join the group. His demeanor seems friendly enough. She tilts her head slightly, and squints at the justiciar. It's not like her say will affect the guide's decision whether he would allow the man to join them or not. They already have enough questionable characters in the group as is, so the more the merrier, right? She's never done a bad thing in her life aside from the past teenage rebellion; she'll be fine with the justiciar.

"Might as well stay here for the night if some of us are calling it a day already," hums Jezebel as she takes a seat near the sleeping duo but far enough if Riktos decides to bear roll in his sleep.

Morgrim Alstromeria Anaxileah Crumbli CarpeNoctem1213

 

[Javax]

Health: 99%

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• Tags: Federoff | Crumbli | Alstromeria | Anaxileah | Morgrim | AnimusLight
  
  Addressed: Crow
  
  Mentioned: Leon Gervano | Riktos Killignar | Alaria Wylloh | Morgrim Hemwick | Jezebel Batal
• Status: Healthy
  
  Location: Forest ➝ Looted Camp
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ 28 Arrows
  ‣ Shadow Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous: N/A
• Notes:
  ‣ Jaliss-Quor ➝ Spirit-Boy
  ‣ Keld ➝ Spectre
  ‣ Adrashtai ➝ Paladin
  ‣ Nond Edainra ➝ Dead Men
  ‣ Torsk-Edain ➝ Bear-Man
  ‣ Ar vell mellyrnra ➝ By the gods
  
  [Character Sheet]

The blind rogue felt the jaliss-quor speed up slightly to approach her, hearing no footsteps or breathing from the silent male. She didn't slow her pace nor quicken it. The boy walked beside her for a moment as they traveled at the head of the group before speaking. "You're disappointed. I'm sorry."

Roxii didn't respond. She didn't want to say it was fine because it technically wasn't. However, the boy only meant well so she didn't want to say that he should be sorry. His intentions were good, and the wolf-elf had no simple words to say to the boy that wouldn't seem overly nice or unnecessarily rude. Normally, she wouldn't care what her words did to others and how they affected them. In this case, though, the boy helped her out. Being respectful was the least she could do for the boy. And so, the assassin stayed silent.

They walked in silence for a bit longer, listening to the murmurings and chatting of the group behind them. The elf hybrid let her mind wander to the keld beside her. He was definitely an odd character. A boy who was entirely alive nor dead, yet walked this land as if he were a lost soul with an unfinished and unknown purpose. A boy who could see and feel the thoughts and memories of others, even the ones a lifetime away from him. A boy with no known history nor foreseeable future. A boy who was just that—a boy. But so much more. The Lythari finally spoke. "You are a rather... unusual entity." She tilted her head slightly towards him, though it was of no benefit to her nonexistent eyesight. "I have not encountered anything like you."

It didn't take long for the hybrid to smell the stench of death and blood and burning flesh and hair. It definitely wasn't from the battlefield behind them as there was no discernible fire used in the previous fight. No, these smells were ahead of them, and there was a fight that resulted in casualties. Roxii allowed her shadows to stretch out as far as they could go, but whatever was ahead of them was too far for her magic to reach. Judging by the subtlety of the scents, the camp was perhaps a mile ahead of them still.

Without a word, the wolf-elf began going off course, her path going horizontal to the straight path the assembled group was traveling. She wanted to scout out the camp ahead of them and stay in the shadows while doing so. Her footfalls were as silent as a fresh falling snow as she maneuvered her way between the tall trees, thick underbrush and vegetation, and carefully missing any twigs or leaves that would give away her position. She wrapped a thin layer of shadowy magic around her to hide her scent from any possible beasts or creatures that could pinpoint her. Soon enough, she was crouching around the outskirts of the camp, peering on from the cover of the forest and allowing her shadows to scour the scene.

An adrashtai standing alone in the middle of a camp, three nond edainra scattered around him. One man died against a tree, another was burning in the dying fire, and the third had been strangled to death. The armored man pulled a paper out from beneath his bracer, looking at it for a moment before putting it back in its rightful place. He then began scavenging and searching around the camp before sitting by the campfire. Judging by the man's heavy armor and weapons, the death around him, and the odd piece of paper, Roxii could only guess that the man was some sort of assassin, mercenary, or vigilante. Definitely not an unusual character to the blind assassin.

The shadowy rogue watched as her newly formed group appeared. She nearly let out an irritable groan at their lack of caution and alertness. Nearly all of them were so busy with learning about each other and reaching their destination that they didn't even realize they were in the midst of possible danger until they were in the jaws of it. Not to mention the fact that the Guide demanded answers that the adrashtai would most likely not give and the torsk-edain and the reptilian-elf girl just went to damn sleep! Ar vell mellyrnra, these idiots are going to get me killed.

The Lythari watched the paladin stand up before the group slowly, keeping his hands away from his weapons and making sure everything was visible. The mysterious man certainly wasn't stupid. Roxii already had her bow ready with an arrow made of pure shadows nocked on the string. If the man made one move that she didn't like, then the arrow tip would be penetrating his skull before he could finish the thought.

She listened to the conversation in silence. The pa– justiciar beckoned the group to join him at the campfire where the corpse still lay, speaking of Veritas and bringing justice and going to Ellanor. It seemed as though their paths were intertwined, but the wolf-elf still wasn't convinced that the stranger could be an ally. His words were friendly and seemed honest, but any man can lace his words with faux truth to hide the deceit and malice beneath.

The human monk spoke her piece. She seemed comfortable in the justiciar's presence, and she spoke truth. The group seemed rather tired after their long journey, both to Sanctuary and to their current location, and no to mention that the camp was already set up. If they all decided that this place would be a safe place to rest for the night and that the armored man would be of no harm to them, then it was worth a shot. However, one voice wouldn't be enough to sway the wolf-elf. If a majority of the group decided to stay, then she would be forced to stay. Otherwise, the assassin would be more than happy to continue onward to a safer potential campsite. And maybe bring the justiciar's life to an end so he won't be a threat to them later on.

 

[Morgrim]

Morgrim Hemwick
Mentions: Crumbli
Resting at Camp, Discussing with Newcomer, and Preparing for Bed​

Morgrim was slightly wary of the armored man, but he could afford to throw caution to the wind as it seems. He was all alone, with his company being a few corpses. Morgrim on the other hand had a small army of people who all had their own unique skill sets. Ganging up on one man hardly felt like a fair fight, so he stayed his hands. The man revealed himself as being a Justicar, and Morgrim nodded. "Well as long as you aren't a Templar then that's just dandy otherwise we could have had a problem." Morgrim knew there was not much difference between the two things, but Templars and Paladins were usually part of an order, meanwhile Justicars usually operated alone or in small groups. After all it was no particular individual Morgrim had a problem with, it was the order as a whole.

A click sounded in the back of Morgrim's brain, and a eerie chill settled over him, but the feeling was oddly nostalgic and reminiscent of something always on him. Morgrim could sense the magic from the scrap of paper he carried. He knew it was not a regular piece of parchment. "Well well, what have you got on you there? I'm not sure if you know what you got your hands on, but that is an artifact, rare piece of equipment right there. Don't worry I don't want to steal it though." Morgrim had his own on him, not that he could show the Justicar easily though, he'd have to reopen his chest, probably with a broadsword. The rare sphere of dark magic enhanced his own magic, and made it easier to detect when others were close by, a sort of automatic recognition.

"Strange thing, artifacts. They can pass from the hands of thousands, but they only tend to stay with one person for very long when they truly deserve it, for better or for worse. I know that from experience. I'm sure whatever it does it could help us in our journey." Morgrim took a seat by the fire next to the armor clad knight. "So you have business in Ellanor, well that is good then, perhaps we were destined to meet. I hope you have a problem with slavery and the current management." Morgrim wasn't going to indulge in all the details of his plan with the stranger, but it was enough to go on. They are going to free the slaves and kill the king. The more they have on his side the better, because all things considered they would be hopelessly outnumbered. They were around fifteen, while they were easily going to be up against hundreds of foes, fewer if things went well. There was no avoiding fighting the king and his personal guard though.

"I'd be happy to have your help, but first I could use your name. Mine is Morgrim Hemwick, necromancer extraordinaire, and dedicated Guide of Landfall." Morgrim flourished his hands in a display of extravagance feeling a penchant for being dramatic at the moment. Perhaps he was just in a good mood since they had a good fight before them, or maybe because they meet more people that wanted to help his cause, well even if it was only one. "What can I call you?"

 

[Luckz]

Soma
"I'm sure, I'm sure." The thief responded to his rabbit companion with a laugh. He eyed the woman that approached his pupil but figured that she could handle this one on her own. Whatever that woman.... orc thing that she was, Ray could surely handle it.

Soma quickened his pace a bit only to come up beside the pale woman he was fighting beside. She claimed that she would be able to show him something much more invigorating and while it almost sounded like a threat, the proposal had caught the desert dweller's interest at the very least. "Invigorating you say?" He asked, as he matched pace beside her cloaked form. "Well, color me interested. What have you got in mind? Also, are the claws of these.... uh..... beasts worth something? Since you are collecting them?"

Marie
Marie chuckled at the sand man, her hidden face turning to talk to him properly as she fell in line with his walk. "A gift for my father, " was all she said on regards to that but a small smile carved into her face at the mention of her proposal. Marie was definitely peckish so perhaps it was a great time to acquire, ah, a delightful snack.

"Tell me sand man, what's the worst creature of night you've come across?" She asked politely, Marie was unsure he'd ever heard of them which was perfect, the chance to initiate herself in a more...positive light than the rest of the Coven.

Soma
"Hm..." the hybrid thought for a moment. Soma had never known any creatures beyond the deserts and had spent less than a weeks time in this new place. There were so many things he had no idea about. "I suppose it would have to be nightwraiths. Not saying much on their overall power but they are truly terrifying. Especially if you aren't prepared. Strange question. Why do you ask?"

Marie
"Ah then, I'm curious, you seem out of your depth here, I am a creature of the night, a vampire, does it ring a bell sand man?" She questioned, a hidden fanged smile growing bigger from under her hood, perhaps she should take it down during conversation. Manners maketh a Silverton. Marie, using her slender and perfect hands, brought down her hood, revealing a porcelain complexion and matching snow white hair. She seemed ethereal, as though she was from another world, well Marie was of course, raised by the finest. "I require a sustenance, that no other species needs to survive, can you take a guess?" Miss Silverton gave him a sultry look and tilted her head curiously.

Soma
The thief's eyebrows lifted in minor confusion as the hooded woman verbally revealed what she was and all Soma could do was shrug. The word vampire had never reached his ears before nor any telling of what kind of beings they were. "No idea what that is."

When the vampiress lowered her cloak, even Soma had to take breath. He hadn't gotten a good look at her before but now that she was right beside him, the reveal nearly knocked him on his ass. "If you would have came to me during a night in the desert sands, I would have confused you for the Goddess herself." He added with a light laugh at the end. The sand rat clearly had no issues stating up front when a woman was drop dead gorgeous. It was quite obvious he was used to interacting with women. Experienced if you will.

This was proven by the fact when the vampiress gave him a sultry, seductive look and Soma didn't look none to bothered by it. If anything, it looked like he wanted to play her game. "By that look you're giving me, I would assume its something you enjoy. Is it enjoyable for both parties because it looks like I'm on the menu." He replied with a slightly raised eyebrow and confident smirk.

Marie
Marie chuckled. Naive..."A vampire doth dwell in the darkness," she said aloud as a small chuckle elided her via the compliment but she could smell his confidence radiating off of his body. Experience. Nonetheless the chuckle faded and was replaced with a small smile and a raised brow. "You are especially on the menu if you can provide sand man," she leaned in sniffing his scent before whispering in his ear, her fang grazing his ear as she spoke. "Blood little one," Marie pulled away, her baby pink eyes staring into his own, awaiting a reaction.

"We feed on the humans, especially, we can kill but we don't, blood replenishes, they are food but I am more than open to eating a different species if it gives me the same...," she searched for the word her brows creasing ever so slightly. "Fullness," Marie continued walking, never making a sound as they walked, a silent hunter with the grace of a ballet dancer, or a Queen.

"And I guess it's enjoyable, if you want these lips of mine around that pretty neck of yours," Miss Silverton said with lust in her words as she fluttered her lashes.

Soma
"Human blood huh? And a creature of darkness as well. I think that would make your kind rather unlikeable to most. It would explain some of the looks you got in the city." Despite being drop dead gorgeous, the commoners looked at her like they looked at Morgrim. A mixture of disgust and fear. It may have seemed like Soma had just been dicking around but he wasn't handed the title master thief. Little ever escaped his eyes and ears.
The dream eater showed no signs of discomfort when she leaned in to whisper in his. In fact, he smiled at the gesture. Soma hummed as he pondered for a moment before answering. " I'm only half human. I have no idea if my blood will even be satisfying, much less filling. But considering the situation, I don't want to leave a beauty to starve. So, whenever you get hungry, you can drink some of my blood..... provided it does the job." Considering his dream weaver half that no one knew about just yet, his blood would more than likely leave her drowsy or give her a sense of intoxication. A high, if you will, along with the nutrition needed thanks to his human side.

Naturally, neither parties were aware of the addictive qualities of his blood to the vampiress.

Though, at the last part, Soma's eyes fell on her lips before going back up to meet hers. Icy blue meeting light pink in a shared knowing glance. He didn't need to say it aloud for them to both know he would very much like her lips anywhere on him.

Marie
Marie smiled at him. "Kind enough for you to offer, we'll see properly when we reach a safer place but for now..." she leaned into his lips, a seductive kiss, bursting with lust and eagerness. "A taste," she whispered into his mouth before biting gently onto his lower lip, drawing a small amount of blood for her to taste test. It was...indescribable, it had the qualities of human blood, perfectly filling and delicious but it also carried a hidden burst of flavour. Delightful. The small droplet wasn't enough for Marie to feel the high his blood would give her but it did make her ectstatic and even more peckish at the thought of more. Control yourself Marie, don't kill the starter before the main meal.

The vampire waited a few extra seconds before pulling away and looking up at him. "It'll do just fine from what I've tasted," Marie fluttered her lashes, her pale skin taking a more pinkish tone at the surprise kiss. Your out of practice Marie. You don't think I don't know? The vampire re-pulled her hood back upon her head, her features dark yet again and covered in mystery. The vampire followed the group and sat down, poised and perfect, a glint in her eyes at the previous engagement.

Soma
Soma was.... stunned to say the least at Marie's forwardness. Certainly a few flirty remarks here and there but he never expected her to kiss him.... and so enthusiasticly at that. That felt as if it was the last time she was ever going to kiss someone. The thief's eyes followed her as she took a seat in the makeshift camp and Soma shook his in bewilderment. From the taste she had gotten, it seemed his blood was more than satisfactory, which was a good thing. What was worrisome was how much blood she was going to need.
The thief chuckled to himself at the vampire's lustful look and how quickly she regained her regal expression. She was an interesting character to say the least.

Soma picked a tree with strong looking branches and jumped up its trunk. A clawed gauntlet dug into the wood viciously and continues to do so as he nimbly clawed his way up to a good looking limb. He settled in there for the night, serving as a night setinel from this height. He would just need to absorb a dream to stay well awake.

-
MARIE'S REPLY TO THE HOLY MAN THOMAS.

Marie Silverton
Marie was sat comfortably, well as much as a Lady of her class could in a place like this and turned her gaze to the man she had spoken with earlier. "Ah yes, Holy One, that is true on both accounts my father is responsinle for my movements but my real trainers were the guards, we got on very well, I am very close to him," she smiled revealing fanged teeth as she looked at him.

"Come. Sit, my name is Marie Silverton, but please call me Marie Father," she paused a glint in her eyes. "And I call you Father Thomas? Or Father? Which one would you most prefer?" Miss Silverton felt a strange feeling up her side and looked down to find her real snake slithering up the side of her garment, from the bag she once was safely in. "Hello little one,"

shadowz1995 (posted)
JokerValentine

 

[JokerValentine]

Interacting with: Luckz

After careful consideration and pause, the priest found himself making the decision to oblige, slowly making his way over to the vampiress. Keeping a respectful distance, the robed man took his rest next to her, his heart slowing down from the earlier fight. Just seeing the actions of others was enough to give the priest a rush of adrenaline, as if one were to be hurt, or bitten, that would require his service. Thankfully, it seems it had not at all come to that. Not one individual had been injured, and that had been at least one of the many blessings of the day.

Now his attention turned fully to the vampiress. As she shone her fangs, and thus the father could now know his feeling to be true that she was indeed non-human, the father felt some discomfort. It had been quite a while since one being was so intrigued by his presence. His discomfort could only grow as a snake now wound her way up her fragile arm, as if by a cue. Yet, as he observed, there was no discomfort in her eyes. The snake was a welcome creature in her arms. The priest's discomfort now morphed into curiosity. "Now," Thomas began, "I do wonder how you make friends such as... snakes."

Snakes were not typically seen as holy creatures. There were numerous verses on the subject of snakes, and how they were the downfall and causes of danger of many holy men. Yet, to the vampiress it was but a friend. "And on the subject of friends, Marie, call me Father. I would very much like to retain my title of priesthood as a member of this group. If that suits my lady well," he followed up, fighting through his discomfort with a genuine smile.

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano Direct: Morgrim | Mentions: Luckz JokerValentine AnimusLight

He laughs quietly at the notion of him not being a templar. "We often work in tandem. Justiciars discover corruption, crusaders conquer it, and templars ensure it never returns. We all work for the same goal but use very different methods." He rubs the back of his neck before continuing, "I can't say I'm in favour of the templar methodology but to each chapter, his own doctrine. Burning babes and bastards alike isn't exactly my idea of heroism."
He looks over to the undead who seems to be distracted with his bracer. He cocks a brow and the undead man begins to explain the powers of his holy scroll. He knew exactly what it was and how it came to be his but it was nice to know that his relic wasn't unnoticed. "It was a gift from Veritas. I doubt theft would even be a possibility." A broad smile makes its home upon his face and the fire's light dims once more almost fading entirely. He was a dry man but his attempts at humour often made him seem more human than he often thought he was. The undead continues and they hit a small hurdle at their reasons of heading towards the silver city of Ellanor.
"I've a problem with neither I'm afraid. It's the ever present liars and web of corruption that engulfs that city. My purpose for arrival has nothing to do with slavery. To be blunt, slavery is a matter between slaves and their masters. I have nothing to do with the trade as I am neither nor do I intend to be." He leans back and places his hands to the ground. The king and his privy council were his concern. Anyone else caught in the crossfire was nothing of his concern.

Morgrim. A unique name. He reaches under his bracer and pulls the holy scroll from its resting place. One of the names begins to etch itself away and rewrite itself away. A sinner had been punished but not by his hand. Annoying to say the least but something he could live with. He scans the scroll and sees no Morgrim among the names, returning it to his protective pocket. "I am Leon Gervano. I come from a small sea town known as Belford and earned the title of 'liar'. I serve Veritas as both a speaker, a fighter and a lover. I am her husband and her will made manifest upon this world. A broad claim but one I have earned with her relics and service."
He looks over to the new coming members of the party and grits his teeth. A bloodletter. She was pale, regal in appearance and fanged of tooth. No doubt she was one of the embodiments of deception. His hand makes its way to the flail and he leans closer to Morgrim. "Is she with you and if so, give me one reason not to strike her down." His words filled to the brim with hatred and his eyes burned with wrath, all kept quiet as not to provoke the others of the party. His hatred for those of vampiric origin was no secret to anyone who knew him and if he were to work with this group of adventurers, he'd have to make his hates well known. The monk, the priest and just about every other member of the party that he could see sat well with him but she was someone he couldn't see himself working well with if at all.

 

[Morgrim]

Morgrim Hemwick
Mentions: Everyone
Engaged in Combat​

Morgrim was at a bit of an impasse with the strange Inquisitor. Morgrim was headed to the city to rid it of the king, and free the people who deserved to be freed, but this armor clad man seemed to have his own agenda. "Well you are free to accompany me if you like anyways, maybe you are the stubborn sort, or may you are an old dog who can learn a new trick or two." Morgrim had hoped Leon would come around and be willing to free the slaves with them since the extra hands could work wonders, but also because it may teach the man the value of life and freedom, and the joys of both. It was then that Leon made a threat to the vampire, and Morgrim can say he was hardly surprised.

"I don't think I can give you any reason that you would find satisfactory. However I promise you that they are working under my command. I am a guide, and I've collected these people to teach them to be the most they can be so that we can save this world from the cultists. I'm sure you've heard of them, and if no one stops them they will be our downfall." By this point there was probably no person on the planet that hasn't heard of the faceless cult. A group of humanoid monsters with no faces or distinguishing features. Things that have a quiet hate for the world as they raze it to the ground, and salt the battlefields with blood so that nothing may ever grow there again.

"If you have a problem with the vampire you should talk to her yourself. As it stands though they are causing no harm to anyone that doesn't deserve it. I hope you'll come to see that." Morgrim set up a bed roll for him to sleep on, just a simple roll of leather and cloth. He curled up into his little ball of comfort and started to doze off mid conversation with the inquisitor. He's had a long day, and being in charge of a group of ten plus people, most of whom act like rebellious teens makes Morgrim's bones ache on top of the fact that he had been travelling for a week straight prior, he just wanted to close his eyes and let sleep take him to a nice place for a couple hours. With how exhausted he was it came easy, and he was gone in seconds.

Through the night the quiet echo of creatures could be heard, wild animals making their cries and calls, but the camp was left entirely undisturbed by the wildlife. It was peaceful, and the need for a watch went entirely unneeded. Hours later as the two suns started to rise perpendicular to each other, a peaceful all encompassing light covered their campsite, and peered through the thick foliage of the treeline above. The ground was moist with morning dew, and the morning air was damp and fresh. Not that Morgrim could appreciate it with how awful his olfactory senses are, but it was a nice morning for him nonetheless. He got out of his crinkled bedroll and popped several bones and muscles in his back with a hearty stretch. "Ah nothing like spending the night in the forest, and not being eaten alive. Everyone get something to eat quick and then lets head out."

Morgrim started a small campfire for where they could cook any meals if they were inclined. Morgrim went first, and cooked himself some egg and bacon, a cliche and common breakfast in Landfall, but the simple meal gave him happy memories of home. He dug in with a ravenous hunger until there was nothing left on his plate, not even crumbs. After that he put away the bedroll, but left the fire for anyone else who wanted to use it. When everyone else was finally ready he set off north again, the stiffness in his body soon being stretched out with each stride. He wasn't feeling in a particular chatty mood, so he just walked alone, he was sure some would spend the morning chattering together. The journey was peaceful until they reached upon a grove where two men were sitting. They had their weapons drawn, and stared them down as if they were wild animals on the hunt, and a red gleam could be seen in one of the two men's eyes. They were hungry, and even someone thick as stone could tell they were on the menu.

The two men were cannibals, but even worse they were ex-guides. Morgrim had heard stories about these two. The small lithe one wearing the mask had a rare magic that let him alter the bones and density of his body creating weapons easily even when he seems unarmed. The other was an old orc chieftain that killed his entire clan, because he wanted a challenge. The man was a mountain and could bend the earth to his will. Both had an artifact on them. The bonemancer had boots that increased his speed by incredible levels so that the werewolves the group fought in the last battle were like slugs in comparison, and the Orc had a battle axe that could create tremors in the ground to create walls or fissures from the earth. The ex-guides traveled down this path after they failed a mission, and ended up trapped for a year, when they ran out of food they began to feast on their followers until it was only the two of them, and they had never gotten rid of the craving for mortal flesh.

The large Orc warrior slams his battle axe into the ground, and it creates a small earthquake and fissure in the ground to separate the ground. Roxii, Soma, Ryan, Marie, Crow and Alaria where left to face of against the bone user, and the others were left to fight the orc. Both of the warriors didn't say a word, but they exuded an aura of death and superiority that stated even though they were outnumbered, they were far from out classed. The bone user attacked first. Jutting from both of his hands spikes made entirely of bone around twelve inches long and three inches thick extended like blades, while on his wrist and up his forearm more smaller smooth like blades appeared like daggers. This one liked to play with his food, and watch them struggle and flee. He liked to watch them bleed slowly then die outright front any single attack. He swipes his arms across in a stroke and all the blades on his forearm shoot out at the party like speeding bullets. Those not quick enough would find them plunging into their legs and arms, and even those who were quick were still likely to be grazed by the blades, and immediately following that attack he leaped forward with impalers extended.

The Orc was different, he didn't need speed, he had raw unrivaled power, and a thick hide of armor that could stop most weapons. He let out a powerful war cry that could deafen most in seconds, and then charged with a giant war axe in hand. Riktos was the biggest of them, so he made the most impressionable target, so the orc went for him first. When he charged the very ground shook, and when he swung his axe even the after effect carried enough force to knock a man of their feet. Harming him would be damn near impossible given his armor, but also because he had a special ability that made his skin as tough as stone. A pack of hungry werewolves was child's play compared to this.

Bone User:

Spoiler

Orc Badass

Spoiler

 

[Federoff]

Inventory:
Twin Daggers, Leather Armor, Hat

Locations:
Forest

Tags:
Directly: Javax Everyone else
Mentions: Crumbli Morgrim everyone else

Guide:
Bold = Emphasis on Word
"Quotes" = Speaking
Italicized = Thoughts
Colored Italicized = Thoughts of others
"Italicized Quotes" = Speaking Thoughts connected to emotions
​

The good ones remember people are people

Glittering and gleaming, the sun's glowing warmth that peaked through the tree tops of the forest. Sliding, sheathing, slowly the suns went away as day would circle into night. They were back to the beginning of the circle. Walking, slowly but surely. Before the fighting there was walking, before the walking there was fighting, and before the fighting there was walking. And now there was walking. Words wild and willing sprinkled the air behind them as they forged on, coming from all angle and mouth. But not their's. Not her's. Their walk was one of silence and reflection. His eyes wandered the scenery around them, never sticking to one spot as he took in the entirety of the forest and all its inhabitants. Most were scared off because of the fighting. "I like trees. They don't hurt people"


He sensed Roxii's thoughts as they silently walked through the forest, far ahead of the main group. They were wary and wandering, suspicious but curious, disapproving yet respectful. He knew she did not like what he did but was respectful due to the nature of his actions. No matter how much she hated it the young boy simply wanted to help. And that's what he did. Her thoughts then wondered to that of what he was. Alive nor dead, to her he had no history, no impact yet brought change. A wander who wandered, a helper for the helpless. A boy with no known history nor foreseeable future. A boy who was just that—a boy. Like Crow had stated before, he was just him. He was Crow.


After what seemed to be another hour or so of walking and wandering, the blind Lythari finally spoke to him. "You are a rather... unusual entity." She tilted her head slightly towards him, though it was of no benefit to her nonexistent eyesight. "I have not encountered anything like you."

He would be surprised if she did, he was the only one of his kind in this kind of situation. He kept his head facing forward for a few moments before copying what the woman did to show his mutual respect to her, however his was more angled down due to his nature. "Yes. I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made mistakes... But I made friends, too. Then a Templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything. I learned how to be more like what I am. It made me different, but stronger. I can feel more. I can help.

Sooner or later their walking would come to a slow crawl as Roxii's shadows dashed and danced across the realm, lashing and leashed. It didn't reach the destination but he already knew what it was, he felt the spirits leave their bodies and cross the realms. The young boy fell in suit to the Elven-hybrid's speedy dash. Fleet-footed and free, quiet and quick like the snow that falls on winter's eve, an arrow that caught the miller's sack. He followed behind her and although his movements were not as refined or trained as the Lythari's were, he was almost just as quick and just as silent as she was (not needing to weave and wove between obstacles did help him quite a bit). He felt her thoughts bleed out into the air around him, she wanted to see and scout what was ahead. This time he would help only if she needed it.

Arriving at the outskirts of, what seemed to be, a camp the boy who wasn't and the blind assassin stop and settled behind bushes, she knocking a shadow arrow to her bow after surveying the scene. Multiple people dead, laying and lying on the forest floor before them. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, putrid and pungent. Crow's gaze scanned the area, softly resting upon the armor clad man. Crow could tell he was responsible for the deaths of these men. The young boys neutral expressions all but melted away as his mouth collapsed into a frown while his hands curled into a fist, tightly clutching the air around him. He did not like this man. The warrior's past slowly became prevalent to him but, even though it was one of sadness, it did not matter to the young boy.

The man that stood before them was one that masqueraded behind mask of truth and righteousness, to the point in which Crow suspected even the man couldn't tell anymore. For once both Roxii and Crow would have something, beyond combat, in common. "The good ones remember people are people, he doesn't. I don't like him, he doesn't help people" He whispered quietly to his companion to his side, his voice even quieter then normal.

Normally his voice was gentle but carried quite well, but now was rigid and was barely able to be heard by those with heightened hearing right next to him. Like a knife through butter the tense atmosphere would be cut by the sounds of their companions. His eyes watched as Morgrim boldly inquired the fake Templar, his hand now tightly clutching his daggers just in case something happened. Much to Crow's surprise nothing happened besides an exchange of words.

Ar vell mellyrnra, these idiots are going to get me killed. He felt the girls thoughts once again. He wouldn't have put it as bad as that, he had to agree with the assassin. Crow was all for believing in people but for someone who killed and harmed people while hiding behind a mask he could just not bring himself to do so. Although if Morgrim thought the man wasn't a threat than maybe he could relax. Returning to his neutral expression he released the firm grip on his knife and turned to face Roxii, placing one of his hand gentle on her shoulder to get her attention. With a dead face and even deader tone of voice Crow spoke.

"Don't worry, I will keep watch. If he tries to hurt anyone I will kill him. You are tired and need rest. Sleep for now" And with that Crow would watch the group. Away and afar. He was neither here nor there, seen or unseen. He would simply be.

For the entirety of the night Crow would stay awake and keep guard for the group, allowing everyone to get the rest they so desperately needed after their long day of walking. From a tree branch the boy who wasn't sat, his eyes seemingly watching the entirety of the world all at once. His gaze was neither here nor there. It simply just was. Everything was peaceful through the night and Crow enjoyed it. He listened to the birds circling and the scavengers scavenging. He listened to the sleeping trees and plants, watching the dreamers dream of a myriad of different dreams.


Hanging over the sky the suns hung dangled and dancing, bringing the dawn and the start of a new day. Like gems of light that gleamed and glistened across the sky. The light slowly spreads across the land, painting images and pictures for the world to see. They could not see the pictures but he could. Waves of color mixing, matching, merging. Running into each other and singing a song of peace and harmony. Some could not understand it while others could. Soon the songs and pictures merged to create and fill the world around them. Glittering and gleaming, the sun's glowing warmth that peaked through the tree tops of the forest. Sliding, unsheathing, slowly the dual gems of suns rose into the sky. They were back to the beginning of the circle once again. Both people and animals would soon awaken to start their day once more.

The first to awaken from their slumber would be that of Morgrim, who awoke to awaken the cindering flames of a fire. Crow was already on the ground that was below him, his legs crossed as he sat in the company of a murder of crows, plus one sparrow. Bread crumbs were scattered around him, the birds calmed by the presence of Crow would continue to eat away even as more and more of the group began to awaken. Crow would greet his friends with a simple "Good Morning" as each began to make their breakfast. Next to each person he placed a single apple and a myriad of nuts and berries to go along with any breakfast, if any at all, they had.

Once almost everyone was up and moving the birds he had around him would take to the sky, his new friends disappearing for now. He would meet them again, this he knew. As people began to chat among each other Crow would stand up from his long sit, what must have been at least a few hours, and simply wander from view. To those not sensitive to him it would be a mystery to where he went, but to those that were sensitive to him they would feel his presence close by. Once again the boy who wasn't resigned to watch the group from afar, not really interacting with anyone.

Once the group finished packing up and moving out, Crow would join them as they continued their circle of walking. Staying near the front of the group, the young boy would drift between the seen and unseen. Sometimes being visible and sometimes not, sometimes being in line with the group and other times being within the treeline and bushes. Weaving and woving a path that left one to ponder. The walk was peaceful but once again the circle cycle would cycle back to fighting random monsters they found lurking within the woodlands.

This time they would encounter two ex-guards of the realm. An orc who stood tall above the rest, save maybe the man who is a bear, and a small masked man who used his bones as weapons. The large orc slammed his axe into the ground, causing the earth to quake and tear, and splitting the large group into two smaller groups.

Quickly Crow lept away from the wall of earth created by the giant Orc, grabbing his daggers from his belt in the process. Before he could get close to the enemy, however, he was already attacking them. Bone daggers launched towards them in a spray of an arc, grazing Crow's left shoulder and cheek in the process. Before they had time to react to the hailstorm of daggers the warrior was already dashing at them with great speed. Sensing this the boy would leap back to the wall of earth made by the Orc. Using the momentum from the first jump, Crow would then jump off of the wall and into the air. Timing it just right his daggers would plunge into the back of the creature.

Like a crow, his attacks were fast and his [twin daggers] dug deep to draw blood. The boy would then use as much strength as he could muster to twist the twin daggers in his back, causing even more pain as he pulled to the right to try alter the pathing of the creature's attack. Quickly he was shrugged off the ex-guards back and ended up being slammed into the wall. Even though he didn't stop the lunging dash out right, it would still reel off course and way closer to the wall then before.

​

Actions

Silently Walking -> Talking with Roxii -> Scouting with Roxii -> Watching group for the night -> Birbs -> Fighting

 

[AnimusLight]

[ Post collab with Crumbli ] Mentioned: Morgrim Luckz Alstromeria Anaxileah Compass shadowz1995 JokerValentine

Jezebel Ada Batal​

The monk straightens her posture while sitting crisscross. She places her palms on her lap and closes her eyes. Sitting upright, the monk is able to sleep; it took her a year to understand how to learn this technique from her teacher. She couldn't sleep though. Jezebel has always been a light sleeper since she was little. It takes a while before she can be in a deep sleep, so the meditating-like sleep is her teacher's way of helping her receive rest despite her condition. She listens in on a few conversations- Morgrim and Leon- before drifting to sleep. The morning light awakens her and with a bit of food in her stomach, she's fully energetic once more. Her back is lightly aching from the tussle with the werewolves but she's combat-ready.

The groups begins to set off again, hopefully with no more packs of werewolves to deal with. Jezebel walks with those little 'hops' making it look like she's skipping slowly but with longer air time. She breathes in the forest's scent, agreeing to herself that she will always like the smell. The sound of armor clanking beside her catches her attention. She turns her head to face Leon, who's still in his full set of armor.

Leon says, "You seem well rested."

Jezebel nods wondering if he saw her sleeping in that odd position, "I'm sure it's strange that I can sleep sitting upright but it's become the norm for me. I hope you had some rest even though everyone here are still strangers to you."

"I confess I didn't strip all of my armour last night before resting. I'm glad we all awoke in one piece. Even with the bloodletter present."

"Bloodletter?"

"The vampire."

"Ohh... Well. I can see the need for caution though most of the group have many questionable members. I don't think our guide minds it. Though, I've never met a vampire in my life before, only in storybooks and tales from my teacher. I'm not one to deem a person harmful until I see their intentions." Jezebel hopes for no hostility to destroy what little trust is within the group. For Leon, it seems as if Morgrim's answer is satisfactory for him to join the group still.

"You had a teacher?" asks the justicar. He wants to know about her? She's not as interesting as some of the other peculiar members so she's surprised he's interested in her... though if anyone were to meet her teacher, many would be even more curious.

"Yes. More like 'have' than 'had.' I'm still unsure how I got permission to go on this journey. I never mentioned that I'll be joining a large group like this... but then again, it's my teacher . He's a bit odd when you aren't used to him... I do want to ask- if you don't mind- um... I've never met a justicar before either. I kind of have an idea on what you do but it's still on the premise of what I've seen. What do you guys do?"

"Not the easiest question. We're men of faith. A wayward monk clad in iron, with faith incorruptible. We're stripped of everything and if only our faith remains we are worthy. We're few in number but Veritas would have it no other way." A pause. "I was lucky in a sense. I had nothing left to lose when I found her. No birthrights, no next of kin, only shame."

"Hmmm," Jezebel head tilts slightly to the side in thought. "An unwavering man of faith? That's interesting. Teacher did tell me to be open minded to other faiths."

"I didn't catch your name before."

"Oh! Gods, my manners. My name's Jezebel. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Leon." Jezebel mentally slaps herself for forgetting to even introduce herself. Her teacher would scowl her for forgetting that.

"You heard my conversation with Morgrim?"

"Yes. Pardon my eavesdropping. Even though sleeping upright is something I'm able to do, I can't seem to fall asleep quickly like the bear of our group. "

"Well then Jezebel the slow sleeper, what god do you pledge yourself to? Or are you a maiden of the pantheons?"

She gives him a pout at the label but later, flips it to a smile."The practices from teacher are of a more self-spiritual kind. It's to no specific gods- according to him but requires understanding the meaning of the gods and the placement of life in the world. I've had a few people ask for spiritual guidance from me only to find out that I'm not a devout follower of their god. I do believe strongly in my practices. It gives me a sense of balance and purpose for what I've been through and what is to come."

"Balance? I suppose you're honest too. Such qualities would make a fine priestess if ever your faith fell upon Veritas." Leon smiles which couldn't be seen under the helmet but the tone in his voice matched the expression. "So what can you tell me about your friends? If any in particular, the green one and perhaps the rabbit."

"Well, I've only just met them so I'm in a similar situation as you. From what I've seen so far, there's little trust amongst a few. By green one, I believe you mean Alaria, right? She's half elf and half reptile. Really pretty and kind. She seems to get along with Riktos the bear man. She helps with wounds like the priest in our group. The rabbit lady is Ryan. I haven't had much interaction with her but it's easy to tell that she's close with Soma, one of our roguish members. When we took care of those werewolves, she was up in a tree most of the battle."

"A pity. It's often the pretty ones with the worst personality flaws. Though there's always an exception to the rule." Leon half smirks. "As for the bear you mentioned the word man. Is he not a pet but a druid? He seems more primal than not."

Jezebel tilts her head in the other direction wondering what he meant by the 'exception' but continues answering his questions, "Riktos. I'm still unsure about what he is. He does have a human form but it feels like human and bear are separate beings. Sorry. I can't explain it with what little time I have had with them. Riktos might explain it further- well, once he's back in human form. He's pretty friendly."

"It's quite alright. You've provided me with more than enough to get my bearings. If you don't mind I'd like to know more about you. I imagine our paths will remain as one for quite some time until we reach Ellanor."

Before Jezebel had a chance to respond to him, the group comes to a halt. The sound of something hitting the ground... The monk feels the ground shake beneath her feet then seconds later it rips apart splitting the group. The opponent of their portion of fighters is the orc who is already charging straight at Riktos. She turns to look at the other half of the group to discover the bone user. These two had an air of danger that feels worse than the pack of werewolves.

 

[Crumbli]

Leon Gervano Direct: AnimusLight Morgrim Alstromeria | Mentions: Anaxileah

As the undead guide begins to drift off to sleep, he reflects on the suggestion. Perhaps he would confront the vampire about her reason for being around the group. However he'd have to wait until day so she couldn't escape his wrath if it was beckoned. He gently places his hand on the sleeping roll of the undead man and pulls on the covers to better fit him inside. "Rest well, cold skin. You'll need it." He slowly hoists himself up off the ground and groans. His knees were sore from all the hiking and the small battle before. He considered staying awake the night to keep watch but with his joints the way they were, it'd be suicidal tomorrow.
He looks over the group, kicking his helmet up from the dirt. He catches it in his hand and makes his way inside one of the tents. No one seemed interested in using them so he'd take shelter from the chill of night. He was used to sleeping outside in the undergrowth but he was never a fan of it. He dips his head low to enter one of the two tents and smiles at the darkness of the room. It was still, calm, as if waiting for him to do something. He enjoyed this feeling of authority without the responsibility. He lowers himself onto a bedroll and begins to undo his armour.
He undoes his shin guards, then his bracers, all the way down to his breast piece. The breast was awkward to get on and off. He begins to fiddle around with the straps of his plate and stops. If he undid it he'd have to risk being unprotected during the night if the vampire were to find herself hungry. He lowers his weapons beside the roll and tucks himself under, his breast plate's right side loose.

Night passes to dawn and the suns' rays creep through the canvas walls of the tent with their searing orange hue. The rustling of animals and groans of fellow team mates jerk him awake from an unwanted dream. He opens his eyes lazily and heaves himself up. He slowly rises to his feet and stumbles out of his tent, making a beeline for a near by shrub for seclusion. After a moment he shudders with a half smile and returns to the camp. He notices the cooking of foods and strange assortment of berries and nuts.
He returns to his tent and begins to adorn his armour once again. Since he had his leather and chain still on from the night before he was able to get dressed relatively quickly. It took him nearly ten minutes in all which was impressive to say the least. Once done he wraps a thick cloth around his head and tucks his helmet beneath his arm. Before leaving he makes sure he has all of his valuables, the scroll especially, and exits to the group.
Opening a small pouch on his belt he pulls out a leaf wrapped around some mushrooms and from another he takes a strip of dried meat. It wasn't much but it was rich in protein and that's what he needed to keep him going. He picks up a small stick from the forest floor and runs his mushrooms through. Once skewered he holds them over the fire someone had lit. He wasn't sure who but his gut told him it'd be Morgrim the guide.
He cooks his mushrooms and makes haste in downing them. Once done he places the strip of meat in his mouth and begins to chew, pulling his water skin from a belt and feeling its fullness. It wasn't looking too good. Only 1/3 of the water remained. He pushes the meat to the side of his mouth and takes a swig before returning the skin to his belt. He continues to chew as he pulls his helmet on over his head. Now he was ready.

He waits for the group to leave the camp and once they do, he follows close behind Morgrim. The guide was invaluable and to lose him in these woods would result in the majority of this party becoming stranded. His pace begins to slow however as questions fill his mind. He falls back about mid way through the group just behind Riktos. He picks up the pace once more but not on his own. He looks to his left and acknowledges he was moving at the same speed as the thin framed woman. He remembers her placing faith in him from the night before, and the strange way she slept while sitting upright. She was clearly a good judge of character but that posture was something he'd seen once or twice before. Monks didn't usually come this young. The two begin talking with Leon instigating the conversation but replying bluntly for the most part.

The two seem somewhat pleased in their discussions but are brought to an unfortunate halt once they arrive to a grove. He was mid sentence and begins to slow the last four words of his sentence as the oncoming danger steals his attention away from the charming monk. There were two of them, outnumbered obviously but not fearful of this situation. As the orc hit the ground and the very soil beneath them shifted in two distinct zones, it became obvious that this confidence wasn't without merit.
Charging to the front of the group Leon questions his own sanity. There was no time to think. Thinking was a luxury that costed time and that's something they simply didn't have. A blue and golden string of magic energy covers his armour and weapons, crawling over the ground and onto those nearby. As the axe wielding orc focuses on Riktos, Leon draws his sword and shouts loudly. As he makes it to the front he raises his sword, holding onto the hilt and blade, and catches the underneath of the axe. His feet dig into the ground and he turns his whole body to the side, throwing the axe aside.
"Until mortem!" The orc was incredibly powerful and while pretending he had the situation under control, he was grateful his sword hadn't shattered from that single blow. It was clear that the earth dividing power came from the weapon itself and not the orc. His entire right side was now exposed but the orc was leaning over him holding onto that mythic axe of his. With a thrust of his pummel to the orc's chin and violent shove against its chest, he manages to escape the orc's ability to strike him down for now. He takes a few steps back standing at the very front of the group staring down the former guide.
This may seem stupid and it arguably was, but Leon wanted to prove himself worthy to the new group. If he could establish himself a titan among them whose faith was incorruptible and power unmatched, he could earn their respect. "Jezebel, stay back. Riktos, go for his ankles. He's top heavy. If anyone else can help me pry this axe from him then you're welcome to help." His voice is filled with authority and as he steps away from the orc he realises what he'd just done. Veritas help him.

 

[Luckz]

Marie Silverton
Marie Silverton nodded to the man before her. "She's harmless, my dad gave her to me, Violetta, a grass snake for company, " she said with a small smile before looking at him. "I know they are unholy in the eyes of you Father but nothing is holy or unholy unless it's proven it's worth to you and you alone, then judgement can be cast," Marie said before looking up at the night sky.

"It's quite alright Father, it's an honour," Marie was too busy interested in herself and Father Thomas to listen to anything else around her, so she instead nodded her head and shuffled to the base of a tree and leant against it comfortably and watched. Vampires could sleep of course but it wasn't necessary at all. With a small sigh, Marie closed her eyes and drifted into a relaxed sleep.
-
Miss Silverton awoke slowly, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight as she eased her pale body out of it's stiff position against the tree's trunk. "Ughhh," she stretched gracefully and rose to her height, placing a finger upon her lip as she watched the newcomer cook mushrooms. Marie shrugged and well, didn't both cooking, no point, she wasn't starving either, peckish? Yeah sure but she was still as fit as a fiddle. Perhaps noon would be a prime time to feed.

The vampire made sure her hood was cast over face as much as possible before following the group through the forest once more, she spotted Morgrim alone up front as she stepped off the beaten path and picked up a few stray insects, she placed them in her bag fir Violetta to eat before joining the group again, eyes burning holes into the back of the new comer. "Hmmm, he's so...peculiar,"

Marie was absolutely delighted wheb they reached the grove only to roll her eyes at the orc and bone man. "Oh my, again?" The rich woman moaned before dive bombing to one side gracefully as the orc man literally created a fucking a wall. Her pale pink eyes scanned the man in front of her and then her team whilst sounds of shouting and authoritative commands were being thrown from the other side. There was Roxii, Soma, Ryan, Crow and Alaria here.

She dived forwards in a roll as the daggers approached, they grazed her lower back in the pricess of the roll and she growled out. "Oh no you did not rip my clothes! They were expensive!" She screamed in anger and through a fit, her metal snakes she did not want to risk and so she thought in the minimal time they had. Her dagger. For now she kept it concealed.

Marie looked at Crow. "Nice job, let's group up otherwise he'll pick us off," this sounded so very smart and strategic to take down the bone user but in reality she knew she'd probably die without them. "He bleeds!" The vamoure squealed with delight before smiling, her raw strength and speed would hopefully be tanky enough for her team, though of course she'd never fight like this unless forced to. Marie dropped her cloak, and her pack in the brief time he had been slown down and was now standing in a pale dress of intricate designs but with plenty of leg space, it no doubt had a small rip at the base of her spine but for now she did not care. Marie growled vile growl before digging her boots in the ground and running full pelt at the bone user, the two colided and Marie and the man locked hands as they pushed against eachother, she bit the inside of her mouth forcefully and spat her blood into his mask, or face? Whatever it was.

"COME ON DON'T JUST STAND THERE!" Marie screamed at how much she was pushing herself, he was able to withstand her but she hoped her team sprung some of their own attacks. Her hands started to heavily bleed as he sadistically grew bones from his palms into hers, enjoying her bleeding and pain.

Little did he know that her blood was venomous. Oh dear should I have told him?

JokerValentine Federoff shadowz1995 and the rest of the group.[/B]

 

[Javax]

Health: 87%

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• Tags: Federoff | Crumbli [Vaguely] | Luckz
  
  Addressed: Crow
  
  Mentioned: Crow | Leon Gervano [Vaguely] | Marie Silverton
• Status: Wounded
  
  Location: Forest
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ 28 Arrows
  ‣ Shadow Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous: N/A
• Notes:
  ‣ Jaliss-Quor ➝ Spirit-Boy
  ‣ Velglorn ➝ Assassin
  ‣ Keld ➝ Spectre
  ‣ Wassik-Kesir ➝ Wolf-Elf
  ‣ Mandarin Jaless ➝ Odd Soul
  ‣ Xiad'ka Velglorn ➝ Shadowy Assassin
  ‣ Uruks ➝ Orc
  ‣ Luis-Edain ➝ Bone-Man
  ‣ Nosritrel ➝ Vampire
  
  [Character Sheet]

The wolf-elf listened silently to the Jaliss-Quor's enmity towards the strange man. At least that was one thing they could both agree on: They didn’t like this newcomer. The man was literally surrounded by the corpses of potentially innocent men, and he didn’t even fight to deny his crime. Roxii was an assassin, that much was true, but the shadowy rogue never brought death to anyone who she didn’t have incentive to kill, whether it was something they did or if it was entirely fueled by payment.

Time passed before either one of the duo made a move. The party before them began to slip into a much-needed slumber. The Velglorn tensed at the hand placed gingerly on her shoulder but relaxed when she realized the hand belonged to the Keld companion beside her. He told her to rest as he kept watch, promising to bring an end to anyone—including the Justiciar—who proved to be a threat to her or her newfound companions.

Roxii grunted in response. Her mouth opened to propose that the two could rotate watches, but she stopped when she realized that the odd boy probably didn’t need the blissful benefits of rest or sleep. So the Wassik-Kesir stood to her full height, her bow and arrow still armed and ready, and made her way to the safety of the campsite rather than in the vegetation surrounding it. She chose a tall tree around the outskirts of the campsite to lean herself against, placing her bow beside her within reach and laying her sheathed sword across her lap. When she was comfortable—well, as comfortable as she could be leaning against a tree trunk in the middle of the forest—, the wolf hybrid rested her head against the tree and allowed the gentle embrace of sleep to whisk her away into a dreamless slumber.

✧ ✧ ✧​

The elf hybrid awoke in the dead of morning. She judged by the cool dampness of the air that the sun’s rays hadn’t yet clawed their way up the horizon, but the distant chirping of birds told her that dawn was not far off. Roxii stood up and, interlacing her fingers, raised her arms above her head in a much-needed stretch. Her joints popped and cracked in protest at the movement. Sleeping against the trunk of a tree was never her favorite sleeping position, but it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d rested as such.

No one else had awoken yet, except for the Keld sitting in the tree not far off, keeping his promise. It was early enough to begin the day, so the wolf-elf decided not to sit around and wait for the journey to continue. Instead, she strapped her weapons to her person and trekked out into the surrounding forest. It had been a while since the hybrid had had a real meal, so she supposed it was time to go hunting.

By the time the assassin returned, an unfortunate, bloodied rabbit held in her grasp by its ears, her group had risen from their slumber and had a campfire going. Roxii, noticing that no one else was using the fire at the time, decided to use it to prepare her breakfast. After skinning the prey and cooking it to what she considered perfection, the wolf hybrid dug into her meal, politely accepting the apple the Mandarin Jaless offered her. The Xiad’ka Velglorn ate the apple silently as the group—with one new member—continued their journey to Ellanor. It didn’t take long for her to finish the juicy fruit, tossing the core off the path carelessly.

Before long, the party was met with a new adversary. The Lythari was blind, but not even she could miss the absolute madness and hatred emanating off the two ex-Guides before her. Before any of them could act, the large brute of an Uruks slammed his axe into the ground. The earth rumbled and a fissure erupted, separating the party into two groups. The rogue and a few others were to face off with the Luin-Edain while the others fought the orc.

The bone-user attacked first. Razor sharp spikes jutted from his arms and, in one sweep, said spikes were flying towards her and her group at unimaginable speed. Roxii gathered the shadows around her and placed her arms in front of her, creating a shield made of pure dark energy. Some of the spikes penetrated the weaker parts of her shield, slicing open her thigh and the side of her midsection, but otherwise she was unharmed as the spikes bounced and shattered off the more structured parts of the shield.

Her shield was dropped immediately as her hand gripped the sword at her side and removed the blade from its sheath with a satisfying sssssshhing! The Keld was the first to attack the bone-man, flying at him with daggers poised. The blades pierced the ex-Guide and drew as much blood as they could before the boy was thrown off and away.

The Nosritrel was next. She charged at the bone-user and acted as the tank of their small group. Taking advantage of the attack as they wrestled with each other, the elven assassin rushed forwards, her sword slanted offensively. The Luin-Edain, noticing the second attack, shoved the vampire away from him and used his already-grown hand spikes to aim them at the Lythari and shoot them. Roxii dropped to the ground and slid past the bone-user, barely dodging the projectiles and his last-minute attempt to stop her from being behind him. However, her uncanny speed allowed her to jump up behind him and plunge the sword downwards into his back.

An ear-splitting screech erupted from the bone-user, and, before he could finish, the wolf hybrid jumped up onto his back and back-flipped, ripping the blade out of his flesh. She landed with unusual grace, poised to attack again. However, before she or any of the others could act, the ex-Guide whirled around and kicked the wolf-elf in the gut with a spiked foot. She grabbed his ankle in an attempt to slow the kick, but the spikes still penetrated her abdomen, and she was sent sprawling to the side. She grit her teeth at the pain, covering the wound with an arm as she gathered the shadows around her and allowed the magic to staunch the bleeding and slowly begin the healing process.