Fantasy Realms of Nymserine: Main Thread [[CLOSED]]

[Purize]

Verity nodded to her, still a little speechless, just before she turned and left the tavern. She sat in uncomfortable silence for several moments before she began to feel herself relax. The waitress brought their food and Verity had almost lost her appetite. She poked at her cod, normally a favorite dish of hers, and drank the rest of her tea. When the waitress came around a second time, Verity said, "Actually get I get a glass of cranberry wine as well, please?"

 

[Zazz]

In the shady streets of the city, Azaria met with her contact and procured a shimmering piece of scaly tail. A buyer in a village just outside of Aeredale had promised to pay handsomely for the illegal trade item, as it was said to heighten one's magical awareness. The halfling always found interesting work around the capital; there were more people with deep pockets and clean hands in the city.

The young halfling strode back towards the smell of brine and seafood, the apple from earlier satisfying her taste buds. She could hunt just fine, on the road, but fruit was not always easy to come by. As the sea came into view, Azaria scrunched up her nose to escape the smell. She hated Meletus.

By the water, she managed to sell off the useless trinkets she had picked up on the way to the tavern, keeping the few fruits and whatever coins her slippery fingers had collected from loose pockets. A man leered at her, once, when she asked around about dragon knuckles, but a sharp glare his way ended that. With a roll of her eyes, she left the black market traders behind and went in search of a weapons shop.

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus beamed at the praise, this gentleman may have looked a little rough, but he was cultured. Pyrrhus liked him immediately.
"Well met sir, the play is called 'A Fair Summer's Day'. It is becoming immensely popular I find. I daresay your lady would like to see it too." After a pause he added: "Pyrrhus Elantus, guard-for-hire, at your service."
Pyrrhus watched Roland's glance, very much used to odd looks since he had entered the large port town.
"I came through the door very carefully." Pyrrhus seemed to read his thoughts. He chuckled then, rich and deep. Apparently that question was one of the most common.
"Will you drink with me? Come, bring your companion..." he trailed off suddenly as his eyes drifted beyond Roland to the dark-clad halfling raising herself from her place against the wall and going to speak reservedly to the lady in white.
"I don't wish to raise alarm, but...that figure, speaking to your lady fair, she looks...slightly less than savoury."
Pyrrhus watched as the woman turned and left. He hadn't seen the flyer, or the faint blue light Verity had manifested. He was overtly oblivious to it all. What he did notice was the slight tightness of the lady's shoulders after the other left. Clearly what the halfling had said had upset her.
He glanced at Roland, a silent promise of support should he need it.

BugDozer73 Purize Zazz

 

[C.C.]

The soft morning sun rose in the east as a pair of white stallions pulled a white cherry wood carriage across Tepher's Plains. The coachman cracked his whip and the steeds quickened their pace leaving clouds of dust in their wake. Within the white carriage sat two passengers. On the far right of the coach's only seat was the Aeredale nobleman, Chester Fairwing, and directly beside him sat Morrigan, the daughter of Erebus.

Morrigan filled the carriage with a somber tune she whistled as the three made their way towards Aeredale, the famed capital of Nymserine. She was surprised when she spotted Lord Fairwing and his coachman waiting outside of her cottage home. Morrigan was told that her gift was needed within the capital as an urgent issue had arisen. The daughter of death was more than happy to oblige the nobleman's request, so the three set off on their half day's journey.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you dear. Look how far we have come. They used to call us witches and demons; now they welcome us into their capital city. Can you believe it?"

Morrigan turned to her left where her mother's ghost sat. She smiled at her mother's comment, it was true, so much had changed since she first dedicated her life to the dead.

"WE'RE HERE," the coachman hollered from his seat outside the carriage.

Morrigan glanced out the right window of the cherry wood coach and absorbed the majestic sight of Aeredale lit up by the morning light. Her long slender fingers curled up around her dress of darkness. Morrigan had always tried to avoid large cities for several reasons. The crowds of people she attracted with her outward appearance and the heavy scent of death the lingered through the cityscape was enough to deter her in the past but now things were different. Morrigan turned to Lord Fairwing.

"Would you mind enlightening me the specifics of this urgent affair," she inquired of the Lord as the white carriage passed through the massive gates of Aeredale.

 

[Lekiel]

The morning was bright, as were the cheerful faces of those who lingered around the eastern gates of Meletus. It was about mid-morning and the crowds filled the pathways as all manner of city folk went about doing their city things. Being one of the major cities in the land of Nymserine, Meletus was no doubt one of the largest trade centers in its portion of the world. Couriers pushed carelessly between peddlers, victuallers and tallymen, who shout and curse after the former.

One such individual had just had his cart of goods bumped by a courier boy, several of his steaming hot buns lay trampled on the ground. He shook his fist at an errant individual and was just about to turn back when there was a startled squeal that sounded much like a squirrel who's tail had just been stepped on NO I DO NOT GO AROUND STEPPING ON SQUIRREL TAILS. It's just an anology gosh!.

"COMING THRU- EEK-!MIOWH!!" A diminutive figure had been weaving among the crowds and could not stop in time to avoid the foodcart. With a resounded crash, the figure went flying headlong into the side and tumbled in a heap of warm buns and broken foodtrays.

"Owwwh!" Amidst the mess, a petite girl sat, gingerly rubbing a growing bruise on her arm. The hood of her deep blue robe had been thrown off, revealing dishevelled locks of chestnut brown hair, from which two stubby horns peeked out from the sides.

"You FRIGGIN TRIPPED ME FINWINNE!" The girl whined. She shot a dark look at a cat-like creature that sat on its haunches just off to the side. The Tikitooth hissed at the girl, to which she replied by scrunching her face at it. Fernwe felt a growing heat beneath her and jumped up in surprised, only just realizing that she was sat on top of steaming smashed buns. She dusted her bruised derriere, as she finally looked up to see the damage she had caused. The podgy bun-baker-man held his face in his chubby hands. A forlorn look on his face as he stared at the loss of his day's earnings. Fernwe could see tears welling up in his eyes.

"HOLY ADAMINE'S APPLES... I'm so so so very sorry!" The halfling scrambled over to where the poor man sat. She reached a tentative hand to pat his shoulder, but awkwardly pulled it back, eventually squating on her haunches by his side as she peered worriedly at the despondent man. It was quite a sight, a large man being comforted by a petite girl barely half his size. Fernwe glanced behind her, as if to check if she was being followed. She bit her bottom lip, unsure of how to handle the situation. Some from the crowds had stopped at the commotion, but none had stepped forward as of yet. Suddenly an angry shout rang out from the direction the halfling had appeared.

"THERE SHE IS!! GET HER!!!" A brute of a man, with a jagged scar slashed across his nose. He brandished a dagger at her direction and started forwards, angrily pushing people out of his way.

"Oh no... its Doughface!" her eyes darted from the oncomming thug, to the sad baker, and finally to the eastern gates of Meletus. Making up her mind on the spur of the moment, she fishedCause we're in a port city, geddit? Fished? from within the folds of her cloak and produced a gold pouch. She held it out to the man nervously, even as her eyes shifted to the brute. Luckily, he seemed to be held up by a passing wagon filled with clucking chickens. The baker was unresponsive, causing Fernwe to let out a pitying sigh. Leaning forward, she stuffed the bag into the man's apron pocket. "I uhh- really have to go. There's seven gold pieces in there, and a couple silver. It's all I have right now. Should be enough to cover your loss. I'm really sorry again!!" Fernwe winced as she stood up to leave. Sparing one last backward glance, she disappeared into the crowds.

, . ; ' ` ~ * ~ ` ' ; . , . ; ' ` ~ * ~ ` ' ; . , . ; ' ` ~ * ~ ` ' ; . ,​

"Well that was a bummer..." Fernwe casually tossed a pebble into the waters before her. It entered the river with a cheery plop! The halfling was now sat by a tinkling stream, just a little ways east of Meletus. The high city walls still visible from between the copse of trees that surrounded the low grassy mound which she rested upon. A low rumble gurgled out from her famished tummy, reminding her that she hadn't yet eaten that whole morning.

"It's all your fault y'know?" She turned in the direction of her companion, who was busy digging into a meatbun. Double bummer that the bun had meat in it . Finwinne didn't even bother to look up at her voice.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Annoyed, Fernwe picked up another pebble and tossed it at her cat. The stone sailed through the air and plonked harmlessly against a tree.

"Urgh!"

 

[Melon Bomb]

"Hey, hey, who told you to quit pouring? You stop when I tell you to stop, okay?"

The two men exchanged nervous glances, swallowing nervously. There was a rattling of ice as the woman shook her cup to stress her growing impatience. At length, one of them leaned forward with a bottle of whiskey and continued to fill the glass until it hit it the rim.

"Stop! That's good."

The man quickly leaned back as soon as the order was given, clutching the bottle with sweaty hands as he ordered every muscle in his body to remain as still as stone. The camp's firelight flickered warmly across their faces, revealing the tenseness worn into their expressions. Off to the wayside was a caravan parked by a flowering oak, and at its helm an old man was blowing smoke into the wind. They paid him no mind, however - how could they, when this monster wearing human skin was demanding their undivided attention?

Charlotte swiftly downed the drink and immediately let out a satisfied sigh, flinging the cup into the fire. The men instinctively flinched but said nothing.

She sniffled a bit, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand and pausing halfway.

"Eugh. . . " She wiped her hand against her pants. She cast an upward glance to see if either of them had moved and, unsurprisingly, the answer to that was still no. With a grin creeping across her face, she slicked her hair back with her other hand and pulled her head up to meet them at eye level. "So! Why don't you two tell me about yourselves?" The woman stared expectantly, waiting for some exciting personal detail or maybe even a joke.

Dead. Silence.

Charlotte frowned. "You've got a mouth, right? Speak up, or I'm gonna get bored."

"I-I'm Jas," the man on the left finally sputtered, his heart racing in his chest as he put the spotlight on himself. "I'm. . ." He quickly trailed off, his mind going completely blank as he struggled to recall the English language. Charlotte rolled her eyes. Clearly this was going nowhere, with any luck maybe the one next to him could speak as many as three words.

"Relax, you're in good company. I'm not here to hurt you." She tossed a branch into the dying fire and it rekindled brilliantly. Jas, not so much. Her hand absentmindedly massaging the back of her neck, she turned to victim number two. "Well? Do you have anything to contribute, or do bandits only communicate via morse code nowadays?"

Silence.

She sighed again, this time in exhaustion.

"Right. Anyway, next time you see your boss, tell 'em to quit hogging up the roads. It's rude." Charlotte pressed her hands against her knees and rose to her full five foot five height, leaning into a good stretch as she did so. She turned around and bent over the corpse behind her and wrenched out her hatchet with one good yank, wetting the surrounding grass with his blood. One half-assed salute to the mob later, and she was making her way back to the wagon, waving at the handler as she approached talking distance.

The old man took one more drag on his pipe before turning to look at the chipper sword-for-hire, wrinkling his brow as he leaned over to shoot another glance at their would-be robbers. "How'd it go? We clear to move?"

A single shake of the head. "Nah, they've got buddies up ahead waiting for us. It's a big camp I hear."

"What're we. . . gonna do?" came a grunt as he hoisted himself into the seat. "Think we can go around?"

"It's just as dangerous off the marked road, we're better off waiting it out." Charlotte parted the curtains and climbed into the back, pushing aside the assortment of weapons she'd lifted from the bandits. Swords, axes, shields. . . some battered, some new.

"Waiting what out?" the driver asked, peeking through the front opening.

"Remember how they told us all their available escorts went off with another convoy a few days ago? They should be making their return trip pretty soon." She stroked her chin, looking off to nowhere in particular. "But this is a pretty busy road, someone else is bound to show up sooner or later, we can group with them."

"Is that really our plan?" he grumbled, turning his back to her again.

"Hey, you want to turn this wagon around?"

". . . No."

"Thought so. Here, we'll pull up a bit further. It gets real hilly over the knoll, it'll make for good cover - their camp's probably somewhere by the river so we can get a good look at anyone passing in and out." Shuffling through her equipment pack, Charlotte produced a brass spyglass and stretched it out to its full length. She spun around and looked directly into the back of the old man's head.

"Oh, no!"

"H-huh?" he muttered, looking over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"I believe you may have lice."

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland blushed hard when the Centaur called Verity his "lady" but he quickly changed the subject. Roland nodded at the man as he introduced himself. "Roland Stormblade.. umm, adventurer now, I guess" He smiled brightly, already immensely enjoying the company of this fair tempered man. He read Rolands thoughts, causing Rolands features to flood with embarrassment, but quickly invited both Roland and Verity to drink. Roland smiled once again, his face falling easily into the familiar pattern, and turned back to find what looked like an elf standing over Verity... rather menacingly. Pyrrhus seemed to take notice of the exchange as well, his words slipping out on edge.

Verity sat there, hardly moving, her body obviously tense. Roland could see something was terribly wrong. He watched, almost paralyzed except for his hand, which rose ever so subtly higher, towards the hilt of one of his blades, protruding from above his shoulder. Rolands muscles were tight and he was so focused on the elf exchange, that he hardly noticed his mana begin to slip. The room's pressure began to drop, and the faint smell of ozone mixed in with the food and salt water. Outside, the sky seemed to grow dim very subtly, but enough to cause people to look up to the sky and point.

After a moment, the elf nodded at Verity and crossed to the door, slipping out of the tavern. Roland breathed a sigh of relief, and let his hand fall to his side. Roland gave a quick glance to Pyrrhus, as if he were saying "I'll be right back" and crossed back over to where Verity sat, sipping her tea.

"Who was that girl? Are you ok?" Roland's eyes switched from her silver hair and cloak to the frame of the door, watching to see if the elf tried to return.

 

[Purize]

Verity continued to poke at her food until she felt magic fill the room, she looked over at Roland just as he strode back over with concern written all over his face. She looked up at him with feigned bemusement. “What are you on about? Oh the girl, she was just a halfling asking for some coin for a drink. I told her I couldn’t help her.” She kept a straight face, feeling bad for lying to him... but decided it was for the best. Verity rolled her eyes at him. “Really, Roland calm down. We don’t need to start another bar fight.” She smiled at him and pointed across the table to his plate of food.

“If you don’t eat that, I will.”

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus was not the brightest; he would be the first to admit it. However his intuition always seemed to be on point, so as the whispers of magic began to crackle through the air, the emotion that called it was almost tangible to him, and it was coming...from his newest acquaintance. He watched the man reach slowly for a blade, saw the light recede from the window. When the woman left he heard Roland sigh and then just like that, the tavern air was back to what it once had been. Whoever these two were, they were most intriguing.
He had seen Roland's silent request to stay, still he rose very slowly and began to follow in his wake, hooves thudding gently against the aging wood floor.
"'Another bar fight?', it seems you two have exciting times." He couldn't help but overhear, and his curiosity had long since gotten the better of his caution.
He introduced himself politely to Verity. "You know, I like your companion my lady," and since he had noticed Roland's blushing he added: "he changes colour a lot...If I may be so bold as to ask; what are you and master Stormblade here to do in Meletus?"

BugDozer73 Purize

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland flashed back to tussling with the 4 apes in the last bar, a fight he recounted with fondness. "I suppose you are right... It wouldn't be right saving you a second time when you still have the first rescue to repay me for." He knew she was lying about who she was talking to, but he wouldn't be able to pry the information out of her. Her past was as much a mystery to him as it was to anyone here, but he would bring it up later.

The horse man Pyrrhus crossed over to the duo, and seemed rather interested in their affairs. Roland smiled back to the horse. "Ah well, I had the pleasure of escorting Ms Verity out of the company of several suitors interested in showing her the town. Verity, this is Pyrrhus." Roland took a seat by his food, eyeing it protectively. He hated it when people touched his food without asking. "We are visiting a friend of Verity's and resupplying before we head on our way. It is also a chance for us to, uh... pay respects to Thasia, and pray for safe passage." He smiled at his own half truth, feeling a sense of relief for being able to defend his words should another meaning ever be brought to light.

 

[Brendanfp]

Ali opened his eyes to soft morning light pouring in through the open archways of the great library. The scholar lifted his head out of the book he had been studying the night prior. Ali surveyed his surroundings as he stretched his arms above his head. On either side of him stood towering bookshelves that seemed to stretch upward indefinitely; in the distance, Ali spotted a lone priest of Tempus. The magi looked down at the ancient tome he had used as a pillow. Its title read, "The Offical Index of Demonic Curses, Volume III" written by Cornelius Ghant. Ali gently closed the old wither tome and added it to the large stack of books he had read last night. He took notice of an iridescent desert scarab that scuttled across the dark wood desk.

"Morning Bajir," Ali yawned.

The insect slowly dissolved into a cloud of sand and swirled through the air towards Ali before rematerializing as a scarab on Ali's Kali clothing.

"Morning master Ali. Did you find the answers you seek, within Ghant's Index?" Bajir inquired of his master.

"Unfortunately No, I read all three volumes and not a single mention of archdemon possession or soul bound artifacts," Ali sighed.

Ali had first come to the Great Library when he was still an apprentice to the Zarain Chief, Solomon. While Solomon spoke to the Oracle about important matters, Ali roamed the vast halls of the ancient archives. Even in his youth, the young Magi was fascinated by new knowledge. Ever since then Ali had made frequent stops to the Great Library whenever he needed something more to solve a problem. Ali even knew some of the priest and priestess on a first name basis, although he still had yet to see the elusive Oracle who dwelled within the wall of the library.

The Magi placed his hand over the crimson jewel of his amulet. It was cold to the touch. Ali felt disappointed that yet and still he couldn't find the answer that would rid him of the damned relic. A malevolent magic stirred within the crimson jewel and a dark voice invaded Ali's mind.

"Looks like a dead-end for the poor magi, Ali. Solomon would be disappointed in you, that is if I hadn't killed him," the grim voice taunted.

Ali gritted his teeth and attempted to ignore the demon. The magi knew if he retorted he would just be buying into the demon's game.

"Master are you alright?" Bajir questioned as he sensed the conflict within Ali.

"Yes, I'm fine, just fine," Ali chimed as he stood up from the wooden table and began walking down an expansive hallway.

"And where are we off to now Master?" Bajir questioned once more.

"I want to see if I can't find this mysterious Oracle. While I've never met her apparently she hold vasts amount of hidden knowledge and unknown secrets. I would give anything to pick her brain," Ali said with giddy excitement.

 

[Purize]

She smiled politely and nodded as she was introduced. Upon closer inspection of the Centaur, she grew faintly curious as to what could have brought him here. He didn't really seem like the few other equestrian creatures she'd met in her travels. Pyrrhus had a different way about him, perhaps it was his speech, or perhaps even his uncanny ability to recite Shakespeare for swooning boys... who knows. He was certainly interesting to say the least. "How about you, fair Pyrrus? What brings you here?"

BugDozer73 SilverFlight

 

[Spacing Out]

Three strands of curly brown that managed to escape from her braid rested on her face, unmoved yet unwanted. Two eyes aimlessly gazing out a window one of manors within Aredale's walls. One hand fidgets beside her red and black dress. There was no way to describe the boredom sadira felt while staring out the glass window with the temptation of unhinging it and jumping out in any moment.

She's visited Aredale many times before. Sometimes for leisure, other times for business. Unfortunately, This occasion was for the latter. How did she get here? you must be asking. Well that's a very good question and even if you didn't ask... You'll know anyways.

Her father's current client, Earl Draal, is a very pompous and melodramatic man. He requested her father to once again to paint his semi-annual potrait after being impressed with his previous work. Her father, Xerxes (though most outsider know him by his artist name Zander), had no desire to travel and lack of fondness towards the aristocrat, offered her services in his stead without her knowledge.

Imagine her reaction when she received a letter from her father reading along the lines of:

Dear Sidara,

‎I commited you for a task you normally wouldn't accept, in a land miles away that you have no interest in at the moment.

‎Best wishes,
‎Your beholden father.

‎She contemplated on rejecting the whole situation. However, the travel was already paid for and the deed already done.

‎It was in her nature to see the bright side of the situation, so she did just that. She thought about the places she could revisit, the things she things she could obtain, the endeavor she could experience. With that, she ventured off to prosperous capital of Aeredale.

Everything went along swimmingly. From the first step she took unto her carriage to her arrival to the luxurious estate owned by Draal himself. While the coachman assisted her off the carriage, her wings involuntarily fluttering at the scenery. Sindara placed a medium sized bag over her shoulders as well as the sling for her quarterstaff whilst she walked to the front door. There she was escorted inside by two servants one male, the other female. They both appeared to be human, towering over her like giants.

"Welcome, We are quite pleased to see you. May I ask where Zander is by chance?" The man asked with a rehearsed smile on his face. She could feel his exhaustion as well as the woman's.

"He's still in Selenia. I'll be taking his place for the painting."

"Ah, Lovely." The woman commented. She began the bags that Sidara held in shook her head in disapproval. "A guest should never hold her own bags. We held situate you post-haste."

"I'm fine, I don't-" Before Sindara could finish her statement, her bags were already snatched out of her hand, except for her staff. "You two can relax, I know that you must've been working quite a while."

They both eyed her, shaking their heads once again with false contentment. "We aren't tired at all. But, thank you." Their statements were obviously lies. But she didn't say anything since she knew whatever would come out of her mouth wouldn't be appropriate. The humans grinned ear to ear after opening a door to a room filled with food, chairs, and a few artworks.

"This is where most of Earl Draal's guests wait. He will be with you shortly." The man said, his smile unwavering. Yet another lie. They left both of the door open before making their exit. Within her first few minutes, she already knew something was strange about the place. But, she eventually rid herself of the thought. She picked up a fruit tart and plopped herself into the nearest chair.

Minutes turned to what felt like to be hours. She found herself desperate to keep herself occupied. But alas, it was all for not. Leaving her in the once exciting room that gradually became dull. Waiting. and waiting.

And waiting.

 

[SilverFlight]

Another rich laugh.
"Suitors hah! Well, now that I have seen your beauty lady Verity I am not at all surprised."
The server brought his food to the bar and he gestured to the space next to his friends, a silent request to sit and eat with them.
The fish had been replaced by an extra generous helping of steamed carrots and Pyrrhus beamed. He had no need for a seat, he merely pushed the empty ones aside and sat down on his equine haunches, reaching the counter just fine.
"Aye, I'm starting to believe there is more than meets the eye to master Stormblade here, to you both, but I'll not pry further."
He tucked into his food and bade the server refill their glasses at his expense.
"I came from Kali-Sharri, there is a small settlement of my people on the outskirts of the great desert, a fair place to live but not even remotely exposed to the great wonders of the world. Those I struck out to see, fortune would have me use my combat ability to make my way, but working for the aristocracy allows me to investigate all examples of the arts and so, I am happy. My last job ended er, rather abruptly. I thought Meletus would be a good place to look for more work."
He paused for a moment, then ventured: "Prithee, are you acquainted with any party in need of a fighter?"

Purize BugDozer73

 

[Melon Bomb]

Summarily prostrated before the bandit leader Kezine were two cowardly peons, their heads uniformly bowed in shame as they waited to elaborate on their most recent failure. The tent was roomy and burnished with the sun's rays, but her presence alone permeated the space like a suffocating gas - not wholly unlike the aura of the woman that had sent them back to begin with.

One leg folded over the other, she made a sharp and impatient gesture for them to lift their heads.

"Get up. If it's bad news you bear, at least deliver it with some dignity."

They shifted to a kneeling position in acknowledgement and met the eyes of their leader, albeit with some difficulty. They were relieved to see she was in no mood to administer a disciplinary beating, though such practices were more reflective of their previous head. Kezine, they constantly had to remind themselves, was different.

"Where are the other three?" came the first question. She had already gleaned the answer from the grim look on their faces, but she wanted to hear it from the source.

"T-they're dead," the man on the left answered, an unmistakable shakiness in his voice. It was Jas. His fingers curled over his knees, sore from gripping the bottle so tightly - he hadn't even realized how much tension he was holding in until he'd returned to camp, the emotional toll leaving him physically drained as well. "We're very sorry, we promise we will make up for this-"

"Their numbers," she cut in. "Tell me their numbers." She didn't care for the bumbling man's idle apologies - she wanted the details, and she wanted them now.

"Just one. . ." Jas recounted, briefly closing his eyes as scenes of the battle flashed through the darkness of his mind. "N-no, wait. There was another with her, the caravan driver. He didn't fight."

"Don't josh with me boy, you expect me to believe that one woman was able to best all five of you in direct combat?" Kezine asked in all seriousness, as though unaware of the irony that she had attained leadership of this troupe under almost identical conditions. "What kind of magic did she use, exactly?"

Before he could respond, a fourth member parted the curtain and joined the discussion.

"Nadale, ma'am!" the scout addressed his leader with a formal salute - no doubt leftovers from his military background. "I've spotted a single caravan with at least two attendants approximately half a kilometer away, behind the eastern hillside."

"They're here!?" the man seated alongside Jas was unable to hide the alarm in his voice, wide-eyed at the possibility of confronting her again. "I thought they were going to turn around for sure. . . What the hell are they planning?" Nervously, he bit into his thumbnail as his eyes darted from person to person.

"No magic," Jas continued where he left off, shaking his head. "She took us on sword and board, we were no match - we should've had the element of surprise on our side, but that knight. . . she saw right through us. The tables turned in the blink of an eye, I could barely tell what was happening."

"Would you like to send our men to secure the area?" the scout suggested, ignoring the poor man's trauma. "Even a skilled fighter will have to yield to a proper sortie."

"No, we'll leave them be for now," Kezine concluded, folding her arms over her chest. "She won't be a threat to us so long as we keep our distance. But if we attack the caravan, we put ourselves at risk of walking right into a trap."

The scout nodded his head once and, with one last cursory glance at the kneeling bandits, disappeared outside.

- - -

Of course, there were no traps - Charlotte hadn't exactly come prepared, but it would be easy enough to take the horses and book it at the first sign of trouble. From the tallest branch of the shortest tree, she could hear birdsong and the distant rush of the river somewhere over the horizon. She smiled to herself as she pushed the spyglass back into its base, stowing it away to free up her hands.

Guess they spotted me, she thought, dropping down from bough to springy bough. The glint of the lens was what gave it away, but she didn't mind. She learned a thing or two herself.

First, the dimensions of the campsite were roughly thirty to forty meters across in each direction, walled in by a simple wooden fence cleverly masked with foliage. A natural canopy sheltered them from casual observation, and it appeared they had some means of a filter to keep the smoke from their camp fire minimized.

Thwump!

Charlotte's soles met with solid ground, but the messy landing threw off her balance. She steadied herself against the tree trunk to recover, shaking out the temporary numbness in her feet. It was a longer drop than expected, she was so focused on the enemy's surroundings that she had neglected to pay attention to her own.

Secondly, the approximate headcount amounted to fifteen or so. She couldn't x-ray vision into the tents so she inferred an extra five to the total as a safety net, meaning she was working with a combat force of up to potentially twenty fighters.

When she scurried back into the wagon, she snapped open the buttons on her bag and sprawled out pages upon pages of worn flyers, eyes swiftly skimming between them.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, they had a mage on their side. Charlotte singled out a bounty poster from the pile, flattening it out with her palms before holding it up to the sunlight. Kezine Nadale, a dangerous spell caster that has been making waves in the underground as of late - there weren't any available details about her capabilities, but if the public word was to be trusted, she had something really nasty up her sleeve.

She rolled up the page like a scroll and neatly tucked it into its own corner, letting it stand vertically. Kezine. . .

Like an excited child, she began sharpening her hatchet with a whetstone and quietly hummed a tune to herself, eager to meet face-to-face.

Let's see what it takes to get you on my side.

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland took a bite and almost choked when Pyrrhus let on that he knew something was a miss. Did he notice the mana leak? oh god, did I slip up? Rolands heart beat rapidly for a moment, until Pyrrhus seemed to just let it go. Roland visibly relaxed, and smiled at the centaur. He finished his explanation, just as Roland finished chewing.

"The Kali-sharri desert? thats quite far from here, you must be very well traveled. Meletus was a good place to come, it is rich with coin and people willing to spend it. But as for a party, I can't say..."
Rolands eyes drifted to Verity, a bemused look in his eye: The centaur was nice, but they would not be bringing along a pet..... even if Roland had always wanted to ride a horse. But there, beyond Verity's shoulder, was a large work board, with posted jobs on posted jobs, some withered and old, and others freshly hung most likely this morning. Sitting in the middle of all the noise was a large sheet, its words grabbing Rolands attention. Roland stood quickly and grabbed the flier.

WANTED: KEZINE NADALE, SPELL CASTING BANDIT. 300 GOLD TO ANY WHO CAN CLEAR OUT THE BANDIT CAMP 15 MILES SOUTH OF MELETUS.

A picture of the woman was scribbled onto the page, as well as a map with directions to the camp. Roland took the page back over to Verity, and slipped it in front of her. "Look at this! 300 gold! Thats the biggest bounty I have ever seen! That has got to be some bandit camp..." Roland felt the satisfaction of his mind putting together a plan, a brilliant plan to put all others to shame. A plan so complicated it could only be devised by the most devilishly sharp mind in all of the land.

"PYRRHUS! You could come with us!"

 

[Purize]

Verity dipped her head at Pyrrhus's compliment, but glanced at Roland when he guessed there was more to the story. If even someone like Pyrrhus could see that the two of them were different... then perhaps traveling with strange company wouldn't be the best idea. If anyone found out who either of them were, they would both be in danger. For a moment, Verity felt like this had all been a mistake and she should never have agreed to go to Aeredale with Roland, but as soon as she had the thought, it faded. She couldn't shake that weird sensation of destiny, like this was exactly what she was supposed to be doing.

She blinked away her mess of thoughts and listened to Pyrrhus as he explained his predicament. She hesitated when he asked if we knew anyone who would be looking for a hired fighter and open her mouth to say that they wouldn't know of anyone... when Roland opened his mouth first.

He jumped up and returned to the table with a flyer. Verity's eyes almost popped at the sight of the reward amount.
"PYRRHUS! You could come with us!" Roland said excitedly.

Verity looked quickly between the two of them. "Wait, what? No! Roland this is a whole camp of bandits!" She snatched the flyer and paled as she read the directions. It was along the main road to Aeredale... we would have encountered them anyway if Roland hadn't found the flyer. They could go around.... but off roads would be even more dangerous. She racked her brain for her mental map of Nymserine, thinking of a better route or anything that would be useful, but she found nothing. "It's on the main road," Verity said quietly, setting the flyer back down on the table. "They would have to be pretty bold bandits to settle on a major route like that." She thought out loud. She looked at Pyrrhus, wondering if he would want to help us with it after all.

BugDozer73 SilverFlight

 

[SilverFlight]

"300 gold?!" Pyrrhus parroted, his own disbelieve pouring into the moment. Then: "I could come with you?" The light that filled his wide blue eyes was bright and childlike.
"I could come with you!" He said again, this time an affirmation, as if he just realized that he was an adult and could make his own decisions.
"What a splendid notion!" His ears pricked up and he rose to all four feet suddenly, smacking his head on the bar's low ceiling in his excitement. He had to make an effort to keep his tail out the drinks on a nearby table.
"I'm ok." He grinned, waving the concerned bartender off.
"After sand wyrms and giant boars, a group of human bandits shouldn't be a problem at all!"
Pyrrhus fished some coins out of his pouch to pay for his food before all but prancing to the door.
"Never fear my lady, Roland will watch out for you, I will watch for Roland and we'll be back again before the day's end!"
He had misread her caution as he was swept up with the idea of bandit hunting.
With that he opened the door and, true to his word, carefully fit himself through it, with no small amount of ducking, wriggling and hip waggling. The snorts of laughter he attracted from the patrons didn't seem to phase him in the slightest. One thing seemed certain, with Pyrrhus at their side, most of the attention they received would most likely be drawn to him.

Once outside he drew in a breath of the fresh, salty air. He stretched like a cat, with forefeet out in front, his human torso bending over his equine back, tail in the air. After shaking out his legs he stood, waiting for his companions in the bright sunshine.

BugDozer73 Purize

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland smiled at the silly Centaur, giddying up (HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAAAA) and hitting his head on the ceiling. It was all Roland could do to maintain his composer. He looked at Verity with a satisfied smile.

"Come on, it will be fun! Pyrrhus will be extra muscle just to contain numbers. Besides, we could use the coin. 300 gold would keep us set until Aeredale!" Roland looked openly at Verity's coin purse, hanging with little weight from her straps. While it was not empty, it could clearly stand from some added weight. All of Rolands gold was simply in his hope for the future. "Lets get a move on. We could make it there shortly and be back in time to meet your friend!" Roland rose from the table and gestured Verity to follow, making his way outside behind the centaur. It was just as odd to see him in the streets as it was in the Tavern. Several folk jumped back as he had emerged, and now gawked openly at the large companion. Roland came up beside Pyrrhus, beaming.
"You must get a lot of funny looks. Anyone ever try to ride you before?"

 

[SilverFlight]

"Funny looks, impressed looks, looks of fear, bewilderment and awe. I've grown used to looks...I've considered charging admission." He threw Roland a roguish grin.
He tilted his head at Roland's next question, his grin becoming a bit more mischievous.
"Oh sometimes someone, it's always a human, gets it in their heads that I'd be easier to take in a fight if they jump on my back...it never ends well. Centaurs have pretty good reach. But I can carry about two people comfortably in an emergency...if I absolutely have to." He paused for a brief moment. "If you've horses I'd be most grateful if you rode them instead."

BugDozer73

 

[Purize]

As Pyrrhus jumped up and all but ran out of the tavern, getting a little stuck in the door along the way, Verity covered her face with her hands, peering through her fingers. "What have you gotten us into..." She mumbled. Roland got up to followed the Centaur outside and Verity slumped in her seat with a sigh. She picked up the untouched bread loaf she ordered and wrapped it in cloth before stuffing it into her travel bag underneath her cloak. She cast a sad, longing look at the half-eaten food on the table and left some money among the plates. She rose from her seat and began to meet the other two outside when she stopped, turned and poured the rest of her cranberry drink on her waterskin, earning plenty of weird looks from the other tavern patrons. She couldn't help it... she loved cranberries.

Outside, Verity caught up with the boys just in time to hear Roland ask Pyrrhus if he'd ever been ridden. Verity smacked him on the arm as she walked up to the group. "Roland! That's rude, he's not a horse." She gave the Centaur an apologetic look. "Please don't pay him any mind."

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland flinched, and reeled back, rubbing his arm in surprise. "OW I'm sorry! Geez I was just asking..." Roland muttered under his breath that it would have been faster than walking, and looked around the crowds, who were whispering, looking at the Trio. Roland sighed and pulled out the piece of paper. It was old and wrinkled, but the ink was not faded to poorly.

"Looks like we just follow the southern road.. Shall we?" He gestured with his hand and began making his way through the crowd, smiling at the most shocked people, who parted with quiet disdain to let them through. The breeze was nice, salt and fish, and the sand sticking to the rocks: It reminded Roland of his ship, and his family. He wondered about them, and what they were doing right about now. Probably already back out on the water, making there ways into infinity. Once more Roland felt the Glum tide rise over his heart.

"Do not despair, my son. The Ocean is vast, and alive. Those who take care of it will find themselves in its protection as well. Don't stray to far now.... There are storms on the horizon.."

Her voice invaded his head once more, causing him to grit his teeth. He held his tongue, but looked up at the sky for a moment: They were blue, and crystal clear. Not a single cloud seemed to dance tantalizingly over the hills.
Either a goddess was losing her mind.... or something else was coming.

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus agreed to meet up with his companions at the gate later.
The road leading to the gates was wide and Pyrrhus, now that he had the space to move, opened to his full walking stride. He was much more graceful out of the crowds and confines of the inner city. He stepped purposefully, his movements fluid and precise like a hunting cat. His coat shimmered in the sunlight, muscles rippling beneath with each swing of shoulders and flank. He still received ample head turns and looks, but they were different now.
Once past the gate and out into the open countryside Pyrrhus seemed much happier. The sprawl of fields, farms and forest seemed to lift his heart.
He had taken the liberty of filling two small bags with supplies just before they had left, slung over his withers with a length of leather.
He withdrew an apple from one of the bags and tossed it in the air happily.

The river that had dabbled up beside them ran placidly, but it wasn't long before Pyrrhus caught the slight sound of a pebble hitting the surface, and a growl of frustration. Skirting a grassy mound he found a young woman chucking stones into the water, looking very much put out.
"My dear lady, is something the matter?"
Pyrrhus stood off a bit, but his face expressed a look of genuine concern. He still held at least one apple in his hand.
BugDozer73 Purize Lekiel

((I'll edit if we weren't suppose to leave the city yet, I just thought I could drag Lekiel on board now :3 ))

 

[Zazz]

Azaria awoke from a nap on a roof near the edge of the city. She had finished her errands for the day and was now simply waiting for the sun to fall over the western horizon. While she waited, the halfling sat with her legs crossed at the edge of the roof, dagger in hand. Shhhing. Shhhing. Shhhing. Her dagger swiped along the stone as she sharpened the blade, the sound calming to her.

She watched the traffic down below. Meletus was a bus city; couriers ran to and fro, and the streets were crowded with people. It was loud, and everyone seemed to have somewhere they needed to be. The salty breeze from the water still lingered, but it was not enough to overpower her senses, for which she was grateful. How did pirates manage to live on the sea? The halfling could not fathom it.

 

[Lekiel]

"My dear lady, is something the matter?"

The petite halfling's back stiffened and she nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected greeting. Fernwe scrambled to her feet doing her best to spin around to face the intruder in a tangle of blue robes. One hand forcefully tugged the hood of her cloak back over her head so hard it lopsidedly covered one eye, while the other fumbled into several of her pouches at her waist. Grabbing whatever she could reach, she drew her fist back and was about to throw something at the thugs, when she realized that the 'thugs' was in fact a towering centaur in clearly nonthreatening posture. Her throw faltered as her mind told her no, but her bodyhand, her hand said yes. The internal conflict resulted in a half-hearted flap of her hand UGH!, as several tiny seeds tumbled ungainly through her desperately clutching fingers and scattered over the ground where she stood.

"Oh-!??" Whatever cry she was about to make was quickly muffled by the sudden appearance of bushy greens that swallowed the diminutive girl up. There was silence for a few moments, before the bushes rustled, and muffled curses could be heard from within.

"Why didn't you warn me!? You're slacking off lately you rotten piece of -!" There was another leafy rustle as the girl stumbled out, tripping over overgrown roots and with several choice leaves adorning her hair. Fernwe dusted herself off to finally look up at the horseman, bringing a tentative hand up to wave but quickly thought against it. Settling both hands down, they began to awkwardly fiddle with each other. She knew the centaur had said something, but couldn't quite remember what it was, so she assumed he had made a simple greeting.

"U-Uhm... Hi! Uhm... yeah... The name's Fernwe. Pronounced Fern-, like the plant, and -we, like 'they were'. Who might you be-?" Her brown eyes grew wide at the sight of the juicy scarlet morsel. There was a low rumble as her stomach cried out in protest of the neglect.