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Fantasy Sorcery!!! (Completed)

The man turned his bearded face to Aquila, his eyebrows furrowed and a troubled look on his face. "Stranger. I am in quite a fix." He admitted, gathering the rope for another swing. "I've been locked out. This is my home and I have lost my key. But I've got a terrible throw, as you can probably see."

- Help him.
- Ask for directions.
- Leave him be.
 
>> Ask for proof <<

Aquila wasn't sure that she believed this bearded stranger -- most people didn't lock themselves out of their fortress of a house. She wondered whether he'd bought the grappling rope after he'd gotten locked out, and whether he could have spent the money on going to a keysmith instead. The red head glanced over the man for a moment, trying to decipher whether she should help him or not, maybe some proof of address would convince her. Aquila hummed thoughtfully and gave the man an assessing look that displayed her suspicion.

"Can you prove this is your home?" She asked, "I'll help you if it's yours, as I'm sure you understand after going to such great lengths to defend your home." Aquila offered a tentative smile, hopefully the man would understand her precaution if it was truly his house.
 
The man gave her a disapproving look, readying the rope to swing again. "Are you from the guard?" He demanded.

- Yes.
- No.
 
>> No <<
"Nope," Aquila replied honestly, an amused smile flickered across her features before being carefully stored away. "I'm merely a concerned passerby who's willing to help, if you can prove to me that this is your home." She explained, though his sudden demand about whether she was law enforcement was almost explanation enough. Aquila had already been put into jail twice since she'd been in Khare, she wasn't looking to be put into jail again.
 
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"Then you should mind your own business or help me out." The man replied. "I'm not giving you any proof." He threw the grappling hook up again - and once again missed.

- Help.
- Leave.
 
>> Help <<
In the end Aquila's curiosity won out over the situation and she sighed, disappointed with herself. It was like she was becoming a criminal or something, how did she keep ending up here? The red head held out her hand for the grappling hook and gave him an assessing look. Either this man was a burglar -- and a bad one at that -- or he truly was a man locked out of his home. "Alright, let me try," Aquila said with a quiet sigh.
 
"Thank you stranger, much appreciated." The man nodded with a grin. He handed the grapple over to Aquila and indicated the window he was after.

Aquila swung and threw the grapple, feeling the murmur of the Panther in her thoughts. It caught the sill of the window up above.

"Excellent!" The man exclaimed. "Thank you!" He took the rope, tugged it twice and then begun to climb. At the window ledge he paused and called to someone on the inside, his voice sounding slightly frightened. "Esme? Esme? Please put the knife down Esme." With that he clambered over the window sill and into the house.

For a couple of moments nothing happened. Then after a while, the man reappeared, sliding down the rope in a hurry, landing on his backside painfully. He stood up and dusted himself off. "I should never have married an Elvin." He mutters with a grumble. "Nice eyes. Very unforgiving." With that he hobbled away, as whoever lived in the house, pulled the rope and the grapple through the window, slamming the shutters closed.

--

As Aquila continued on the street she noticed how it was falling into disrepair around her. Something had blighted this region of the City - even the trees in the gardens behind the mansions have turned black where they stood. The only greenery was the moss on the stone walls. There were no rats scurrying underfoot and only spiders roosted in the rooftops.

Aquila passed a particularly grand house, its doors locked with a heavy iron chain. There was a metal L bolted beneath one gable. Perhaps it was the mark of the owner or perhaps is was there simply to stop the wall falling out onto the street.

- Pry open the chain.
- Cast a spell.
- Continue on.
 
>> Cast a spell <<
Blue eyes glanced over the exterior of the house, it was obviously grand and somebody important must have lived here. The 'L' bolted beneath the gable was the deciding factor in her approach to the doors. So far all she had to associate 'L' with was Lorag, the Noble she was currently looking for. This seemed as good a place as any to begin her investigation. Aquila examined the lock and chain for a few moments -- technically she was about to break into a home, one that looked abandoned nonetheless. She focused on an unlocking spell and hoped she wouldn't find disappointment inside.
 
She cast the spell over the heavy chain and it tumbled to the ground, allowing her to slip through the wide doors into the old and empty house.

The inside of it was dark, but Aquila could see that it was a mansion on a grand scale. There were at least three floors and two great doors leading off to wings on either side of the entrance hall. From the back of the house came a voice.

"The Lord is no longer here."

- Ask who is there.
- Ask which Lord.
- Say that you know.
 
>> Ask which Lord <<

Aquila slipped inside the dark mansion, curious eyes peered into the shadows for clues. When a voice rose from the back of the house she jumped slightly, attention reeled back to reality as she searched for the source of the voice. Their comment made her uneasy as it sounded like they knew whom she was looking for. Yet, in such a mansion who else would she want to find?

"And what Lord is that," Aquila said hesitantly into the dark as she swallowed her fear. She had faced many disembodied voices since entering Khare, it was becoming a theme it seemed.
 
The figure shambled forward, resolving itself out of the darkness into a tall Ogre wearing the livery of a man-servant. "Lord Lorag is no longer among the living. He will not be returning for some time. Please leave."

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- Ask about his return.
- Ask about his spell line.
- Attach him.
- Cast a spell.
 
>> Ask about his return <<
Aquila blinked up at the ogre with wide eyes, she hadn't expected him to simply arise out of the shadows. She quickly composed herself, catching the end of his comment with an interested tilt of the head. So, she had been right in her assumption of this being Lorag's home but he said that Lorag was not among the living. Yet that didn't match up with the rest of his statement.

"Well, when will he be returning?" Aquila asked instead, "I mean him no harm, sir." She added quickly with a tentative smile.
 
"I do not know. The Lord was always mysterious. He left me in charge here to take care of his belongings until he returns. That's what he said. And then he died." The Ogre replied. "My service will continue regardless." Then he stepped toward Aquila, not very friendly looking, yet not aggressive. "I must now ask you to step outside. If you wish to pay respects to my Lord, his grave is behind the house." He made Aquila step back to the doors, clearly not letting her stay inside the mansion any longer. It was time for her to leave.

- Look for Lorag's grave.
- Leave down the street.
 
>> Look for Lorag's grave <<

Aquila took a step backward at his advance, she did not want to start a fight with such an intimidating creature. It became clear that she was being herded outside and she sighed -- that lead had been a bust then. "Thank you, I'll go and pay my respects," The red head murmured to the ogre as she slipped around to the back of the house. She didn't want to bother the creature anymore, afraid that if she pushed he'd lose his patience.
 
Lorag's grave was stated in the backyard of the mansion. It was a simply slab of stone covered in flowers. Nothing extravagant like one would expect of a Noble. The circumstances of his death were weird though and his butler was not at all helpful in clarifying them. As Aquila approached the small grave she could see the inscription on it.

"Lorag, The First Noble of Khare."

The rest of the words were covered by flowers and when she moved a couple of petals aside another inscription was revealed.

"Tumblers two sealed deep inside."

It could have been a part of the North Gate spell. But then, why would he have it engraved so openly on his gravestone?

- Continue down the street.
 
>> Continue down the street <<

Aquila crouched down in the dirt and pulled back the flowers in order to view the inscription; it was hard to believe he'd have the line engraved onto his tombstone. After murmuring her respects and prayers Aquila stood, lips turned down slightly at the sides. She'd gotten more questions than answers with this one, though she still committed the line to memory. Aquila left the mansion behind and continued down the street. Had Lorag been the First Noble of Khare?
 
The buildings were thinning out as she walked, only to be completely gone at the end of the road. Aquila emerged into a wide area of wasteland. Once, this was a busy city district, but now it looked as though a hurricane had levelled it - nothing stood higher than head-height. A few staircases led to nowhere and in some places, a door still stood on its own. Plants grew from every crevice and crack as though someone had poured green paint over the whole scene. Things were constantly moving and shuffling underneath the leaves.

The road, such as it was, was quickly smothered by piles of wreckage. There were two possible ways for Aquila to proceed from there. One possible route led up and over the side of a broken down house and another passed by what might have once been a mill. She could climb the side of the broken house or step over the wheel of the mill.

- Climb the house.
- Step over the milling wheel.
 
>> Climb the house <<
Aquila needed to come to a decision as she glanced between the two, neither looked like a particularly safe option and she crinkled her nose in thought. The area was strange in its ragged appearance, it gave her an unsettled feeling. In the end she decided on climbing the side of the house, which she approached dubiously. Her climbing skills were pretty decent but the house hardly looked sturdy.
 
The house had been sliced, like a many-layered cake, showing the floors that were once inside. Opened rooms have been stripped of their colour by the wind and light and of their possessions by a decade or more of scavengers, but there were still hints that this place was once a family home - the hooks in the ceiling above the hearth, the marks notched on the ground floor pillar that suggested the height of growing children.

Aquila clambered up the fallen rubble to the roof of the broken building. From there she got a clear view across the rest of the wasteland. It stretched for a mile or two and would take about and hour to cross on foot, while the light was already waning. At the far end of the wasteland stood a tall iron fence thick with ivy. Perhaps to keep the people of the wasteland out, or to keep whatever was beyond the fence in. Aquila saw dark shapes in the distance, moving across the sky.

She made her way down the building safely and was back onto the path below. A small, ruined church stood to one side of the overgrown path. Most of it was in ruins, but a tall steeple still reached for the sky. Circling the steeple were those two dark shapes from before. Some sort of enormous birds.

At the foot of the church, a man dressed in rags was curled up in sleep.

- Look at him.
- Greet him.
- Leave him.
 
>> Greet him <<

Aquila approached the stranger slowly as her gaze flickered intermittently between him and the circling birds above. It didn't look like a safe place to rest and sleep, but then again Aquila knew very little of Khare and its inhabitants. Perhaps this was a reasonable place to sleep after all -- though the rags he wore suggested otherwise. "Hello?" Aquila called out as she ventured nearer, blue eyes now fixed on the ragged man.
 
Under a hood that was over the man's head, two white eyes glowed slightly like orbs. That poor man was not only blind, he had no eyelids at all.

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He did not respond at first, however a moment later he sat up sharply. "Who's there?" He demanded. "Are you attacking me! I have nothing else for you to rob!" He rubbed at his eyes, and then reached with dirty fingers toward Aquila, trying to grasp her.

- Introduce yourself.
- Ask for his name.
- Give him a coin.
- Give him some food.
 
>> Ask for his name <<

Aquila's heart sank abruptly into her stomach and she took a step backward, hands raised up with her palms splayed out; though he couldn't see her quick surrender. All she could think of was; who could have done this to him? For she almost couldn't imagine another scenario where an elderly man with milky eyes and no eye-lids could survive so long. "I am not attacking you, sir," Aquila said, and she glad he couldn't see the sorrow written across her features. "I'm Aquila, a traveler who means you no harm. Who are you?"
 
"I'm just a beggar." The man said, looking offended. "A starving one. Do you have any food?" He turned toward her, trying to locate the source of her voice.

- Give him a coin.
- Give him some food.
 
>> Give him some food <<
"I'm here," Aquila said, louder this time to help the beggar locate her voice and being. She slipped her pack off from one shoulder and took out some of the food she'd bought only yesterday. It felt a lot longer ago now, though she supposed that was how time seemed to pass. Too quickly. Aquila always felt like she was running to keep up, always trying to stay ahead of the shadows that followed her.

"Here," She said, and held out the food to him with a hopeful expression. "Just to the right of your left hand." Aquila directed him to the package.
 
"Thank you. Thank you form the bottom of my rotten soul." The man nodded, taking the offered rations and eating them in a ferocious manner. "Why did you wake me for? I can see in my dreams, you know. I'd rather stay there." He said once finishing the food, his expression pained. "I..."

His voice trailed off. It seemed like he had heard something. The beggar pointed his gaze upwards, trying to find the direction of the disturbance. Then his expression changed to one of stunned horror.

"Oh no." He cried. "Not again. Not again. Not every time..."

The two dark shapes that were circling overhead were now spiralling downwards, beating wide, feathered wings.

latest

"God-cursed Harpies!" The beggar screamed. "They come for me every time - every coin I get, every apple, every stinking crust of bread, they come and they take it from me! What did I do to deserve such torment!"

- Run away.
- Protect the beggar.
 

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