The Story of Aldurin - IC Thread

So it's a little late, but deal with it.// 


After having awoken in their prison cells, all cooped up together like livestock waiting for the slaughter they managed a daring escape. Weak, hungry, and tired they relied on their numbers as a group to overwhelm the warden; an especially strange cultist wielding an artifact weapon known as the Sky Cutter, a spear capable of sending wind blades out where it strikes. While none in the group could have taken on the warden alone they used what teamwork they could to take down the powerful foe. Only after having defeated the cultist did the other cultists find them, forcing them to make a quick exit through the portal. As soon as the nausea from teleporting wore off, and the darkness in their eyes faded //except for Roxii heh heh// did they see where they were. Standing just a few kilometers outside of the city of Dunheim, the city of Angels as it was called. While once true, it was more of a farce now since it was riddled with crime and corruption, however to many it was home. Morgrim instantly recognized the place, as it was where he not too long ago killed Marquis Tuso, a corrupt religious figure that was destroying the city from the inside out. 


Morgrim wasn't what you would call a 'people person' but he felt he was the best equipped to deal with this situation. As someone who considered himself the smartest in the group, and he probably was, he decided to take leadership over the others. These misfits had no choice now, but to bring the fight to the cultists. Standing at the helm of the group, the zombie looking man cleared his throat and stamped his staff down on the ground. "Alright, listen up! I'm not sure what kind of conclusions you all thought up to our little adventure, but this is far from over. Those faceless swine now stand in the way of our freedom, and I for one very much like having that, and I'm sure you do too. So we have to start working together, set up a base of operations, and take the fight to those sonsofbitches! Our best bet is to head into Dunheim, and start from there." Morgrim knew pretty much everything about that city, and he knew he would get no help from the guard, they had one of two options, either seek aid from one of the political moguls so they could be set up with a place, gain influence in the city, and generate some money so they could take the first steps to hiring their own armada. Or they could go to the den, and seek the aid of the wicked and oppressed, making some friends in not so nice places which could generate some similar results, although from much different parties.


Almost immediately after Morgrim relayed his plan to the group two guards came running from the distance, both clad in basic steel armor, holding an identical pair of swords and shields bearing the insignia of the city, a pair of majestic angel wings. When they approached they slowed down to a halt, and looked at each other oddly. They had expected to see more of the cultist pour through the portal, but instead they found a group of starving, bruised outlanders. They could be seen grinning to one another just as children do before doing something naughty. 


Guard 1: "Well well dear friends it's good to see some reasonable looking people out here in the wilds." If one had looked at the group they would suspect this man to be blind, but clearly he was just foolish or brown-nosing "I had expected to see more of those foul cultists, but instead I stumbled upon a group of adventuring heroes. I'd love for you to come and meet my employer; Pandora. I'm sure you heard of her, a political genius, fairest maiden of them all, and not to mention bloody rich. She's been looking forward to meeting people much like yourself, I'm sure you could help her, and she could do the same for you."


Guard 2: "Don't listen to my idiot brother, he and his fair employer would probably have you thrown in jail if you so much as looked at them wrong, you should come with me. I can tell you had a rough go of things just by looking at you, but you need some people that really got your back. I got a friend in the Den who can get you all set up if you don't mind getting your hands dirty, if you know what I mean. Best yet though we are family, no matter where you come from, you get stuck in a pickle we'll come fish you out, and you'll get to meet all sorts of interesting people." The man spoke as if though an honest sort, though just by his demeanor he seems as if though he had done a lot of dishonest stuff in his time. 


Both of them represents a different group, the first representing the political side of Dunheim, and while the kind to act fair and noble, they have done things that would make a marauder blush, though much of the cities people love them in their ignorance. The other guard represents the criminal undercity, a place that had been vilified by the political leaders, but represents the last bastion for the poor and sick. While consisting of thieves and murderers they do have a code, never harm the poor or sick, because so many of them are exactly that. Morgrim looks back to the group, while acting as the active leader so far unchallenged, he wants to make sure that they can at least agree with each other. "Alright you lot, who do you think we should go with?" Morgrim was saving his vote for last, and that's exactly what he was leaving this up to, popular vote, not his favorite decision, but probably his best option right now.
 
"Well, THAT was fun. We should do that again without the starvation and holy sealing rituals." The ancient vampire commented the moment his senses returned to him after crossing the portal. Ether had been sealed and horribly starved while in prison. Starvation for a vampire,  no matter how old, worked a tad bit different than how it worked tor virtually every other race. A vampire could go mad with thirst and regress into bloodthirsty savage with no capability for strategy or higher thinking. They also drained everything dry rather than just enough, which just creates mindless thralls that prey on the living indiscriminately. 


The stakes were just a wee bit higher when it came to vampires.


The zombie looking mage gave out his little battleplan and while he was in agreement for the most part, he didn't appreciate the authoritative tone he took. At all, really. But Ether kept that fact to himself.


As the guards came and said their respective pieces, Ether was the first to speak up. "We have a rather big group. I think the best option here is to divide and conquer. Send the people with more experience with ruffians and thieves to appeal to that section of the city. Those with practice in the arts of nobility and poise should go see pandora."


"Personally, I have very good practice with both sides of the field. I can go wherever we need more influence."
 
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The large, rugged, mountain of a man named Riktos Killignar was currently using his massive physical capabilities to firmly (albeit gently) support one of the other members of the group. Her name was Wylloh, and although he had only spent a small amount of time with the group, he could tell she was someone to trust. She had his back in the previous fight (a pretty easy task, given the size of the man) and he hers. He had been bruised and cut in the fight, but had minimal serious injuries. On the other hand, Wylloh had been dealt a large cut to her thigh, which was now thouroughly bandadged. It would heal, but the wound required time. Nonetheless, his right arm acted as a brace for the woman, and his left had eased to his right side at the sight of the men.


[COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]He [/COLOR]motioned to Wylloh that she would have to stand on her own for a bit. Easing his center of balance from right to center, the beorning stood up straight, relatively taller than most men, and the shorter elves. Riktos let his hand stretch up to his neck, his outer wear shifting to expose the glinting waraxe that hung at his belt. The keen observer would sense the muscles around his shoulder and neck tightening, an indication of aletness. One did not have to be a ranger to tell that the wild man standing at the back of the group could mean bad news if it came to it.


Riktos did not like the options that were presented to him. Not one bit. Not only were they men, beings of greed, and measly flesh and blood that destroyed the earth, but they were both shiftier than a stoat with a toothache. That wasn't as bad as it could be, Riktos had met many stoats in his time, but they were tempremental creatures. When uncomfortable, they could be a bit feisty. Bad analogy aside, Riktos didn't trust them.


Riktos would rather go into the woods by himself and shuffle around looking for berries, tubers and the like, wearing his comfortable brown fur coat and feeling the earth underneath the calloused, flexible pads of his feet. In the city, individuals wouldn't be keen on having a bear in their midst, and Riktos wouldn't be keen on not being one. However, going alone was not an option. With three long, powerful strides, the beorning laid a hand on the shoulder of the undead that called himself Morgrim. 


"I do not trust either of these men," [COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]He rumbled softly, [/COLOR]"They smell of metal and dishonesty. I look at them and I see those who want fighters, not to aid another. It would be wiser to continue forth into the city as we are and observe the situation before affiliating with any particular group, especially with the wounded."


[COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]With that, Riktos returned to Wylloh, searching her face for signs of agreement with his words.[/COLOR]
 
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Jezebel Ada Batal:


Mentioned: @shadowz1995 @Morgrim @Alstromeria @Anaxileah


Fingers push a lock of dark hair behind her ear. The light from outside and the fresh air relaxes Jezebel. She's thankful to know that these strangers were willing to cooperate back in that prison. Any longer in that encased hellhole, she would have gone insane and what little rationality she still has grasped would have been out the window. Luckily that whole fight they had left her with just bruises, more fortunately than others. Being captured or held for too long in such a small space- gods, she does not want to do that again; Jezebel glances at the vampire with disgust for his comment. She shakes her head, eyes trailing back to the sight of the city.


The whole group is tired, overall. A hot bath is definitely needed if she wants to get the grime off from that filthy place. Despite not living in high society anymore, Jezebel still keeps herself decent out of habit, most of the time. Guards from the city show up with definite intentions in mind to use them for something. Jezebel automatically doesn't pay attention to guard who favored some aristocrat; the other guard was no better but she can sense some honesty from him. The walking corpse, who seems to be the unsaid leader, asks the group for a vote. Jezebel wasn't expecting a democratic way of deciding for their odd party.


"We have to choose one of the two?" she asks herself out loud.


Ether speaks up again, once more getting a disgusted grunt when he proposed the idea of splitting up depending on their way of interactions. Despite wanting to leave, Jezebel does want revenge and sticking with a group with a similar goal will only help her. And for this injured and tired group, she can't help but agree that they had to get some aid from city dwellers. Riktos  also poses a suggestion to Morgirm, which is the opposite of what the vampire said; the beorning seems to be a good guy at heart, seeing that he supports the injured Wylloh. They are more approachable than some of the others in their group.


Frustrated, she taps her right foot, wondering about her decision. She speaks her mind, "I prefer we not get ourselves mixed up in some aristocrat who's in politics. It will be a headache if she continues to ask a lot from us- or she believes we owe her a favor when she presents hospitality. If we can get aid from someone who's not flaunting their money, then I feel more assured to help them in return. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty as long as its for a good reason."
 

Eleniel


 


 


 


 


It had been a while since the light elf caught a glimpse of day light. She was buried in a dark, clammy prison cell, trapped with a group made up of mostly vagabonds and other black sheep. It smelled of moist dirt and damp stone. It was dreadful, really. She spent most of her time in the corner, solitary, itching to get herself away from the sort that she counted herself unlucky to be stuck with. There were a variety of people in the same situation she was in, each had their own reason as to why they were disliked by the Eldar elf. For some, it was because they did something that annoyed her, like talking too much. For others it was because they were her elemental enemy, a sort of "natural" nemesis. There was no debate when it came to the way dark and light clash, it was just the natural order of things. To her, darkness just destroys and shes always responsible for picking up the pieces. They deserved to be kept from the rest of society, kept from corrupting what ever innocence and goodness there was left. Yet she found herself being treated the same as the dark filth stuck with her, that in itself was enough to make her wonder why she, of all people, was down there. She didnt know these individuals personally, but one thousand years of experience told her that these prison mates werent any better than the next wandering vampire, necromancer, or what ever.....or so she assumed. Not all carried the same dark auras as others, but she still found a reason to keep herself from affiliating with anyone there.


To her surprise, however,  the group proved to be successful. They were cooperative, and for a brief amount of time Eleniel and her fellow prisoners were able to set aside their differences and break themselves free. But now what? The freed inmates passed through the portal, finding themselves just outside Dunheim, a place the elf wasnt too fond of. Eleniel has passed through Dunheim many times during her travels, and not once did she receive hospitality or respect. Man had a very primitive mentality, exposing their ignorance to anyone that was different from their own. The light elf felt sorry for man, and often ignored the comments and treatment that was given to her when ever she had to come across that place. And this time, she was more than pleased to be on the outside. Eleniel was often seen lingering behind the rest, arms crossed over her chest, silver hair dangling loosely to her thighs, with her back straight in a confident posture. Her eyebrows were almost always pinched together in an annoyed fashion, and her face always looked unamused or displeased, Elves were known for their soft features and aesthetically pleasing looks, so it was a bit of a disappointment to see a creature so fair, look so harsh and serious. Just one look of her face and you could see her pride was much too big for her height, with those twinkling yet judging eyes of hers. She debated whether or not to stay. They broke out now, there was no reason to stick around with this lot, right? She had her own agenda to resume anyway, none of them would be of use to her at this point. While the necromancer begun to give a speech about their "next move" Eleniel was already making hers. 


The petite elf took a few steps, trying to quietly take her leave. She only made it a few feet away from the group when she came face-to-face with two guards coming their way, too close for her to make a clean getaway with her being noticed. She sighed, mentally asking Illuvatar why this was happening to her, 'Rhaich!' She was in no condition to try escaping. Having no choice, Eleniel and the rest of the group listened to what the guards had to offer. Choose to work along side a bureaucrat, or, become mercenaries or help-for-hire, making it quite appearant that freedom was no longer an option. To Eleniel's dismay, shed much rather choose the second offer. The she-elf never took part in politics if she disnt have to. When the Eldar were still around, Eleniel served as a Captain in her King's guard. At times she did become involved in political matters, but not by choice. Anyhow, now that she had an option, she'd much rather go with the latter. Physical services rather than being subject to doing the dirty work of a manipulating human with an important position. Then again, the second offer could go down the same route.... How pathetic, a group of self-able, dangerous people, submitted to man and their scheming plans. 


She listened as some in the group chose between the two choices given. She knew most of the group didnt like her as much as she didnt like them, but she gave her opinion anyway,"Judging by the looks of everyone here," she began, her blue eyes taking a quick glance at the few near her, the bear of a man, the Morgul, the vampire,"I'd say we're much more capable of performing work than engaging in politics...." she redirected her attention to the guards blocking their path to freedom,"Not everyone agrees when it comes to politics..." her eyes narrowed, hinting at the dissimilar views between herself and the human men. 


**Note**


Rhaich = curses


Mentioned: @Alstromeria @shadowz1995 @Morgrim
 
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Roxii Dae Sicarius








 


Mentions: Morgrim | Ether | Riktos | Jezebel | Elenial | Crow


 


Mood: Irritated | Cautious


 


Status: Pretty damn fucked up. Lol.


 


Inventory: Shadow Bow | Twenty-Six Arrows | Dual Shadow Daggers | Armor


 


Notes: Velglorn ➙ Assassin


Saurar ➙ Foul One


 


 



 





The ringing was nearly deafening during the trip and nausea swept over like an all-consuming wave. The nausea was thick and suffocating, as if the wave that washed over her was of tar rather than a smooth, flowing liquid like water. The rogue's head spun, and if it weren't for her blindness, she's sure the world would be spinning and tilting just as much the moment she exited the portal. Collapsing to one knee so as not to fall from dizziness, the wolf-elf put the heel of her palm to her temple and flattened her ears against her skull, willing the ringing and nausea to cease.


 


After a couple moments—that felt more like a century—, the hybrid's head cleared and all was silent, save for the movements of the others who accompanied her. Roxii pushed herself back up onto wobbly, unstable legs. She took a moment to compose herself then sent out a low-energy pulse of darkness, wondering how the others were holding up and where they had all ended up.


 


A quick glance-over of their loosely assembled group assured the elven hybrid that everyone had made it out alive, albeit a bit beaten up. The bear-man was aiding the nature woman. The Nosritrel seemed to be... normal. The N'Til'Nond was still... dead. The silent male was as silent as ever, though it seemed as though no one cared about him. He must've been unaffected entirely by the battle. The light elf was practically burning the wolf-elf's soul... Yeah, everyone seemed okay. Beyond the group's location was an area the Velglorn knew all too well. They had ended up on the outskirts of Dunheim, the once great "City of Angels," and a place that Roxii had hoped to leave far behind her. Being one of the first cities where the half-elf had gained the infamous titles "Merciless," "The Shadow," "Nightmare," among other names, the rogue had built quite the reputation in Dunheim. So many civilians, aristocrats—and even enforcement—feared the death that possibly awaited them around each and every corner. Dunheim wholeheartedly feared Roxii Dae Sicarius, the reincarnated shadow of death.


 


Dunheim was also where the hybrid had been betrayed.


 


A familiar anger bubbled inside the wolf-elf. Her right ear—what's left of it, anyways—twitched in irritation at the memory. Seven—nearly eight—years ago, the hybrid was sent to take down one of the wealthiest, most corrupt aristocrats in all of Dunheim, aside from the famed Marquis Tuso who mysteriously disappeared not long ago. It was to be a simple assassination. Take note of the man's routine, acquire a blueprint—whether mental or physical—of the man's residence, conjure a plan to slit the man's throat in the dead of night. It was so simple. Yet it had gone so wrong.


 


Before the wolf-elf could dwell more on the infuriating memory, she sensed the approach of two armed guards coming from the city. The fur on her tail and ears bristled, alertness taking over. Roxii curled and uncurled her fingers in anticipation, awaiting a possible second battle. She should've known that the guards would be suspicious of a sizable group suddenly appearing out of nowhere just outside their city's walls. It seemed no one else knew that they were coming, so Roxii kept an "eye" on the guards as she vaguely listened to the Saurar speak in an authoritative tone. She didn't quite enjoy his eagerness to take a leadership role amongst their group of rag-tag strangers, and the assassin was certain she wasn't the only one to think so.


 


Once they were near enough, they halted, taking in the sight of their beaten-to-hell group. Their smug, two-faced grins made the wolf-elf suspicious. The two guards took their turn to speak, inviting them to one of their groups: with the powerful or with the underground workers. Instinctively, the hybrid was more drawn to the latter group. As someone who dealt with their fair share of secret dealings and mysterious jobs—and with the Den, specifically—, Roxii felt as though she would be most equipped to deal with the criminals and dark dealings. However, she knew how they were. They may have a code that they follow, but it's not nearly strict enough to make sure no one who be hurt, stolen from, etc.


 


Not to mention the fact that there may be some people there who wouldn't be all too happy to see her.


 


After listening to the others speak, the rogue decided to put her piece in. She cleared her throat and spoke softly in the common tongue, "I agree with the bear-man. We need not affiliate ourselves with the corruptness of any one group just yet." Roxii paused, choosing her next words carefully. "But if we must choose, the Den would be our best bet. We would have a better chance of untangling ourselves from their ranks if need be. The wealthy are smug bastards who have an affinity for entangling the weak in their webs." Her words were sharp like poisoned daggers, as if she were trying to literally kill the first guard with her sharp tongue.


 
 
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/monthly_2016_09/Wylloh.jpg.e956da53ac319823086fbf40dd5921e0.jpg||Wylloh||




Addressed: @Alstromeria @Morgrim and pretty much everyone else | Mentioned: @Morgrim @Javax @AnimusLight @HoneyBear-Kat @shadowz1995 and others | Status: Listening / Being Disgusted w/Guard #1 | Mood: Uncertain / In Pain | Location: Portal -> Dunheim's Entrance | Inventory: Bow & 20 Poison-Tipped Arrows, Light Armor, and Satchel (full of bandage strips, empty vials, and vials of various poisons with their antidotes) | Notes: I'm sorry this took so long. ;-;



The reptile-human hybrid had made it out of the Cultists' prison and through the glowing, pulsating portal only by the aid of her newfound allies [COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 0)]— [/COLOR]had they not been there for her, she'd have been paralyzed from both the cold and the fear of being left alone and injured with the fiends who had not only kidnapped her and the others, but beat her and the others to do so. The fight that began due to the group stumbling upon an incredibly skilled Cultist was quite difficult, since the weapon he wielded was precise and used the air against them. During this battle, Wylloh was wounded in both beneath her left collar bone and in the middle of her right thigh, one by an arrow that had been deflected back towards her, and the other wound by something else, the female couldn't recall (one's mind tends to become fuzzy when it comes in contact with a large, solid rock wall). One of her new comrades, the vampire, came to her during the battle and began healing her thigh, sealing the cut made in her femoral artery, but was urged away by the female so he could take care of the others, who were in dire need of assistance, since they proved to be more helpful in battle.


 


It was with this partially healed wound, the undressed gash under her left clavicle (collar bone), and a burst of adrenaline that she was able to limp-run through the portal; she was nearing the point where requesting assistance to walk would be irredeemably necessary as she landed on the dusty ground a few kilometers from the city of Dunheim emerging into view, with all of her new companions in the same position or similar to hers in close proximity. Her head was pounding, but she found only a small amount of the dark, sticky fluid on the back of her head, which wasn't as much of a concern as the wound on her leg. Even though the vampire had ceased the incessant bleeding that had originally occurred when her wound was inflicted, there was a steady trickle of her dark green blood travelling down her thigh and the deep cut itself was throbbing and stinging due to the poison spreading through her body from the tip of her own arrow. She had an antidote in her satchel and the poison was a slow one, so it didn't affect her as much as it would have on a normal human being, where the poison is quickly spread through the body thanks to the higher blood pressure of warm-blooded creatures.


 


Before she herself had a chance to treat her wound, one of the other hybrids she had spoken to back in the prison cell [COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 0)]— [/COLOR]Riktos [COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 0)]—[/COLOR] offered his hand and lifted her to her feet with his massive strength, before kneeling down in front of her and bandaging her wound for her. This had shocked the green-haired female, since she had planned to do what he was doing already, as well as treat the poison when she felt less dizzy and could actually concentrate on the task at hand. However, due to her current state, she accepted his actions without protest (unlike how she convinced Ether to go help the others earlier) and appreciated his gesture, nodding to him as her faint red lips forming a soft smile. He also offered to help her walk, and while she was inclined initially to resist his offer and walk on her own, she considered her usefulness to the group and figured it would be higher if she healed faster, which would be done if she stayed off of her leg. He proceeded to lift her off of the ground and carry her, minding her wounds as he did so, treating her as if she was something fragile and would break with ease. He had carried her as far as the gate, his earthy scent relaxing the nature-associated female as they approached the city, up until two guards approached and seemed interested in conversing with the group. Riktos guided her to her own feet and made sure she could stand without wobbling before focusing on the men and eventually responding to their offers.


 


"Well well dear friends it's good to see some reasonable looking people out here in the wilds." The first one spoke with a rather arrogant tone of voice, instantly displeasing Wylloh and after the female glanced around at her allies, his words bothered several others in the group. "I had expected to see more of those foul cultists, but instead I stumbled upon a group of adventuring heroes. I'd love for you to come and meet my employer; Pandora. I'm sure you heard of her, a political genius, fairest maiden of them all, and not to mention bloody rich. She's been looking forward to meeting people much like yourself, I'm sure you could help her, and she could do the same for you." His sly smirk was not to be trusted, and only made Wylloh feel more uncomfortable about entering the corrupt location they had meandered towards. The voice of the other guard came to her ears soon after the first one's ended, this voice containing a ring of truth to it.


 


"Don't listen to my idiot brother, he and his fair employer would probably have you thrown in jail if you so much as looked at them wrong, you should come with me. I can tell you had a rough go of things just by looking at you, but you need some people that really got your back. I got a friend in the Den who can get you all set up if you don't mind getting your hands dirty, if you know what I mean. Best yet though we are family, no matter where you come from, you get stuck in a pickle we'll come fish you out, and you'll get to meet all sorts of interesting people." His words, although true and honest, frightened the wounded hybrid with the situations he alluded to, but not as much as the thought of joining forces with the other guard and the woman he referred to by the name, 'Pandora.' The male that had assisted her during the fight suggested that the group split up and travel with both groups, but neither sat well with her mind [COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 0)]— [/COLOR]that exact thought is what Riktos relayed to the presumed 'leader' soon after the vampire's input, and Wylloh nodded in agreement when he returned to her side and searched her face for signs of agreement. Two of the other females also spoke their minds before Riktos had, indicating that the Den was the better choice of the two (Jezebel and Eleniel). Before she could voice her thoughts, one of the other hybrids in the band of misfits spoke up in agreement with Riktos, but believed that the Den would be better than nothing. While Wylloh did not like the idea of doing such things, she nodded once more.


 


"Allies are necessary among the dangers of the world. The more help we can gain, the better, if they are honest." Wylloh narrowed her eyes at the other guard, chuckling internally at the bitter words the other hybrid had thrown at him. She then refocused on the large beorning and furrowed her eyebrows in an attempt to block out the throbbing in her head before speaking to him, rather than to the shitty-smelling man. "I am not so injured as to consider it a handicap [SIZE= 12px]— [/SIZE] I will heal soon. The others, I am not so sure about, but nonetheless, we should choose at least one ally to make." She smiled once more before turning to the others and nodding towards the second guard. "He seems like the better option than his sad excuse of a relative over there."
 
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[SIZE= 36px][FONT= 'courier new']Miragmi[/FONT][/SIZE]


[FONT= 'courier new']Mira was at this point utterly exhausted. She had already been tired when she was first captured, and time spent in a soaking wet prison cell with no food did not help. She simply did not have the internal materials to make natural flame, nor the energy to make much flame magically, which was usually a difficult state for her to reach. Unfortunately a combination of starvation and a cold wet room did a remarkably good job of it. She managed to escape with the group, but because she was grounded she lagged behind, and in the fights she hid. She went through the portal a beat after them, but she honestly wasn't certain most knew she was there. Especially since her vital signs were slow, and her magical signature was barely present.[/FONT]


She fell through the portal behind the rest of the group and a moment later, arriving as the guards ran up. The first spoke up offering them a meeting with their boss in the nobility, but the second swiftly spoke up after him, saying that instead they should use his contacts in the underworld. In the end she supposed, the question was which nest of vipers you preferred. At least criminals were more open about their willingness to stab you in the back for a pittance, even if a politicians pittance might be comparably more significant. The inherent negativity of the den was  distasteful though. Of course the two undead members of the group were hardly more pleasant but since they were at least partially responsible for saving her life the benefit of the doubt was probably polite. At least until she was recovered enough to Flame.


 


She listened as most of the others spoke up, considering their responses. Then she spoke up, her voice still musical and deep addressing the group despite circumstances, "Well considering my inability to assist I do not know that I have a vote, but I would probably have to vote for the politician. Even if the dagger at the back is more hidden there, I would prefer to at least attempt to avoid criminal behavior. Whatever happens I would greatly appreciate if someone would pick me up as I am not going to be flying again till I have eaten. Once I have refueled though, I should be able to heal most of your wounds, in case you were wanting to leave me behind." She lay on her side with her wings tucked in under the bone plate on her back and her legs curled under. Her tail lay limp behind her, only twitching slightly, but her neck was raised as she observed with tired eyes.


 

Addressed: the group. I am on phone and it is too late at night for me to deal with tagging everyone rn. Sorry if it's wonky I'm kinda fried.
 
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//Well you know me I am a people pleaser, and thus we'll be exploring every option before we settle on one decision, besides it's probably best we give a little depth to all sides.// @Everyone 


Morgrim stood at the helm listening to each person's opinion. The majority of the vote seemed to be in favor of the Den, but it seems like the group was still divided. Riktos and Ether seemed to have the most differing opinions from everyone else though. The Beoming seemed like a very good sort, but siding with no one was simply not an option, if they all just hid out in the woods the cultists would just jump through one of the nearby portals, and capture them again all in one go, and they may not be able to escape a second time, there is no way the would be foolish enough to make the same mistake twice. Morgrim looked to the hand that was place on his shoulder and then back at the behemoth of a man. "We don't have that choice, if we are exposed they will just come and capture us again, the city is our best bet, we'll explore our options, but siding with no one is not one of them." Morgrim said in an assertive tone. He knew the bear man meant well, but Morgrim was just trying to look out for the group, even if right now they are only a means to an end for him. 


The undead man cleared his throat, making a particularly grating noise as if even his vocal chords were rotting from the inside out like the rest of him. "I think we have more options then these two idiots are letting on, so here is what I propose. Ether I want you and Mira to go with the first guard, meet this Pandora, see what she can offer us, if the broad sounds like she can get free work out of us then no deal, I don't plan on becoming some pawn." He gave the order to the two of them seeing as they were the only ones that may play nice with this Pandora lady, the rest of the group was clear in that they didn't want to get tied up with them. He then turned his gaze to Wylloh, Roxii, and Riktos "I want you three to go with the shifty faced guard"


"You know we can hear you there is no reason to be so rude!" The guard said indignantly. 


"Shut up!" Morgrim spat at the guard, he wasn't in the mood for petty fools. "Watch your backs, meet with whoever is in charge, and see what they'll offer us, same rules apply. Don't commit to anything, just scope out what they want, and what they'll give in return. We need allies, and a safe place otherwise we are screwed. Jezebel and Elleniel I want you two to come with me, we have some things to discuss." Morgrim remained vague about the last part. He knew the light elf was trying to make some kind of escape, and he intended to share a few words with her about that, as for this Jezebel girl he felt an odd sort of connection to her, as if somehow he knew her. He didn't know it yet, but his long time friend Jass was their sibling, and boy would it be interested when Jass does meet up with them. 


Speaking of the drunken half elf, Morgrim's first plan of action was to get aid from him. He didn't have a better friend than Jass, and wouldn't trust anyone more by his side at this exact moment then him. It was only two years ago that the elf and him were in this very city plotting the death of Marquis Tuso, and succeeded. Sure those other three mercenaries he hired to take down the fat pig helped, but they were dead, and how important could they have been since Morgrim couldn't even remember their names. Besides Jass was much more of a people person than Morgrim, and he could undoubtedly help him whip this group into good shape. As it stands they were all just a handful of children with too much power, bickering and arguing, each looking out for themselves with their own motives. If they want to survive to the end of the week they would have to learn to work together, and thrive in this unforgiving world. 


Morgrim traversed with the group, following the two shifty guards to the city. The trek did not take long, and the view was impressive. Dunheim was surrounded by large open grassy fields on all sides, providing excellent vision of everything around them for kilometers on end, and to the south of the city there was a great lake with a large fishing operation yielding huge bounties of fish every day, no doubt a great source of income for the city. Outside of the great open fields in the far distance there was forests with trees reaching up to the skies trying to touch the sun, the distant cries of birds being heard. The city itself was a magnificent example of human design, with massive stone walls surrounding the entire city, and an impressive gate standing almost twenty feet tall made of reinforced steel. When the guards led them inside they would be greeted to the sight of the cities market place. Hundreds of stalls were set up with people pawning off goods like blankets, alchemic potions, food, and even weapons. There were larger stores like local blacksmiths and general stores, it could be seen that nearly all structures in Dunheim was made entirely from stone. At this point Morgrim dismissed the group as they would need to split up to meet their respective clients, now left alone with Elleniel and Jezebel he led them to the post office. 


As he walked he directed a comment at the light elf girl. "So nightlight, do you intend to tell me where you thought you were heading earlier? I'm not sure if you realize the gravity of the situation, but you nor I can handle this mess alone, and it can't be ignored. If you have some secret contact you would like to meet I would suggest sharing that with the group, we need all the help we can get at this point, and don't think otherwise." Pushing past dozens of people on the crowded streets he makes it to a little building with couriers rushing in and out of it with bags full of letters. Morgrim grabbed a scrap of paper and simply wrote 'Still alive? If so come meet me in Dunheim.' and then handed it to a courier who rushed off. "Jezebel" Morgrim said standing up straight, a noticeable pitch increase in his voice as he tried to get her attention. "What are you thoughts on all this, do you have any input?"
 
Everyone seemed to have their own opinions on the matter but most were gravitating to the criminal side of things, which was by no means wrong. Ether simply saw it as limiting. The vampire was complete content with bleeding both factions dry until they no longer had use for them. Ether, personally, didn't know anyone in the city and as such, didn't care what happened to it. They could come to blows in some kind of intercity civil war and the vampire wouldn't bat an eyelash. As long as they got what they needed, this entire city could burn. 


It was strange because Ether was naturally very kind. However, living for almost a millennia taught you a  few things. Things such as lost causes and false hope. The city also lost points for being a settlement that revered angels in such a way. Ether detested angels. The way they looked down upon everything and yet do nothing, save when it benefits them. Unknowingly, Eleniel and Ether had the same opinion on the pompous rats with wings.


The corpse seemed to consider everyone's opinions and came to a rather sound conclusion. Scout things out first and then make a call once we have more information. It also seemed that Ether was the only one openly willing to go meet with this Pandora lady. Pandora was a name that commanded respect. It didn't seem like a name but more of a title.


"Let's get a move on then, shall we?"


The little drakeling that had been staggering at the end of the group seemed to be at her wits end and (luckily) expressed her opinion of seeing Pandora as well. At least Ether would have company. The ancient undead strode silently over to the and kneeled in front of her, extending his hand to pick her up gently and place her on top of his right shoulder. She was....deceptively heavy. She had asked to be picked up and for a dragon to say such a thing, even a small one, meant she truly was out of sorts. Probably drained of all her innate magical power. Much like everyone else in this group. Much like himself.


When Ether stood, he eyed the silent rogue that had not given a word in the conversation. He seemed.....almost invisible. If it wasn't for Ether's innate ability to sense magic and spiritual presence, he probably wouldn't have ever noticed his presence. As it was, Ether barely noticed him. He probably wished to remain incognito for some reason. Much like the reptile hybrid and her.....reptileness. 


It didn't take long to enter the city and everyone split up with their respective assignments. Everyone going one way and the vampire/dragon duo going the opposite. However, this "drained" duo couldn't remain in such a way for long. One of them needed to be fed and strong. The blood vials Ether always carried with him were already used up or far too old for consumption. It would feed him, yes, but it would also get him sick in the long run. He needed something different. Something....fresh.


Luckily, humans were plentiful and the freshest things in this city.


"Alright little dragon." He started, pausing near a wagon and placing the small divine being upon it. "I have no idea what your stance on vampires or undeath is but there is one thing we need to set straight before we go on. You are drained of magical power and so am I. Both of us can't venture into a lion's den and be starving, dehydrated, and exhausted all at the same time. One of us needs to be fed and strong and there aren't any sheep or cattle we can kill without anyone noticing around her. Not in broad daylight at least."


The elder vampire licked his lips and took a breath to steady himself. The mere thought of feeding on fresh blood after having been sealed and starved for weeks was enough to send him into a feeding frenzy. Especially with so many delicious morsels walking around without a care in the world. 


Ether's eyes began to glow slightly with hunger from under his cowl as he spoke to the dragon, "I'll be back after I get some food and then we can continue. However it is you may feel, keep it in check. This is for your well-being as much as my own. I'll find you a nice deer or something later on and get you fed once we are done here."


The vampire pivoted on his heel took hold of the nearest female and got quite lucky. Young, virgin, impressionable, and quite the beauty. Once you got past all the bruises. The vampire's eyes took a brighter glow as he pushed his vampiric seduction into her mind, "Come with me beautiful. I'll show you something nice." Normally, Ether would never outright enthrall someone. Preferring to stroke the lust of the target and get them to want to come willingly, it helped keep the fact they were fed upon blurred as a mind blowing night of sex. But Ether didn't have the time nor the patience for subtlety. He needed blood. NOW.


The girl looked surprised at first but quickly fell to the innate power and mindlessly followed Ether. Like some brainwashed zombie. Poor girl. The ancient vampire stole one last, crimson eyed, hunger driven look to the small dragon before nodding and taking her somewhere secluded.


Soon as they were out of sight, Ether didn't hesitate. He almost tore the girl's tunic trying to expose her neck and sank his teeth into her soft flesh. The sweet virgin blood pooled in his mouth with such a euphoric sensation that Ether outright blacked out.


When he came to, he was holding a pale corpse. "Dammit...." He cursed under his breath. The vampire wasn't eating delicately either. He had drunk deep and messily. Blood was soaking his chest and face below the nose. Well, this was bad. She would turn into a thrall now if he didn't dispose of her. Ether dropped the corpse and unsheathed his enchanted blade, swiftly rending the dead girl's head from her shoulders. He then took the time to slash at the body and stab it multiple times to make this appear like a brutal murder.....


.....several brutal murders. A few poor souls had wondered into the wrong place at the wrong time. Boys,4 of them, in their teenage years, probably just hanging about and enjoying a walk with friends. They all simultaneously froze as they laid their collective eyes upon the scene. Scarlet, glowing eyes peered out from under his dark cloak and Ether laced his enthrallment with every word that followed, "You boys are truly unfortunate. Truly, truly unfortunate." Ether supposed this was for the best, in some twisted way. After all, he was an ancient. A starved one at that. It would take....much more than a single girl to slake his thirst. 5 young humans might do the trick though....


...........


"Alright, let's get going shall we?" Ether said rather happily and upbeat as he returned to where he had placed the dragon. Offering his shoulder once more. Come to think of it....."Actually, would you prefer I carry you in my arms? Or...any particular way you prefer to be transported?" He chuckled. The undead had cleaned the excess blood on his clothing off by gathering it together with his magic and storing it in the vials he had. It had managed to fill two of them completely. It was a start to replenishing his supply at least.
 
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Going to the den was not something Riktos seemed very fond of. Of all the places to go in the city, underground was not a place to his liking. Sure, he had spent his fair share of time in caves during the winter, hybernating, getting up, stumping about in a half-asleep state looking for something to eat. But underground in a city was dirty, unclean. And like all plaecs in a city, full of men. Yet Morgrims suggestion was just, and a logical one at the least, even when faced with such horrible descisions. The man decided to act according to the others, but he would go off on his own line of work as soon as he could. Given that he had previously worked as a bounty hunter, Riktos considered this profesion now. It really was a walk between two worlds. Maybe he could find a tavern and pick up some gossip, a wanted poster, or even a face to face contract.


Soon enough, Wylloh was able to walk on her own. Riktos let her down gently and stayed by her side. It was only then that the beorning realized how hungry he was. Resisting the urge to change form and simply toddle off in any old direction like he usually did, he pulled out his knife, and stuck it in a nearby tree. Dragging the blade smoothly down the trunk of the wooden guardian, he made a long cut in its face. Riktos then took one of his large hands and ripped a good chunk of the bark off the tree unceramoniously. He returned to wylloh with a bit of the substance in his mouth, grinding it with his teeth. It wasn't the most pleasent tasting thing in the world, but hey, he was a bear. Bears weren't picky. 


Ripping off a kit-kat sized piece of bark, he folded the rest into the inner chest pocket underneath his armor, but not before thinking about offering some to Wylloh and Roxii, his two "teammates" so to speak. He thought better of it, reminding himself that others digestive systems would probably reject the earthy material. "Better to eat now than later,"  t[COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]he beorning said to his companions, [/COLOR]"I doubt there will be any trees in the city."


[COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]Thinking back to his childhood, Riktos remembered forraging about as a young cub. He had come across an apple tree in the middle of a clearing, something he saw as a gift from the earth herself. However, in his furry state, Riktos was not able to climb the tree to get the apples. He had paced around and around in circles, trying to decide where he would snuffle about next, when an idea struck him. Placing his front paws on the trunk of the tree, he slammed the trunk over and over again until the majority of the apples fell. He'd ate so much that when he came back home in human form he vomited. A faint smile touched his stubbly chin as his teeth ground the bark in his mouth, remembering the scolding his mother gave him as his father tried not to laugh. Those were simpler times of course. [/COLOR]


[COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]Turning to Wylloh, he reaccounted his experience, just to pass the time walking. By the time he had finished, they had reached the city, and Riktos had finished his piece of bark.[/COLOR]
 
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||Tags:|| @shadowz1995 @GlassHeartCass
||Location:|| Dunheim
||Status:|| Injured, drained
||Mood:|| Curious, tired
||Notes:|| guina: undead
Health:
 





The trip through the portal with the others wasn't a pleasant experience. Dakul had used portals before when travelling with his parents, but there was something wrong about the portal he had just come through. Instead of the feeling of stepping through a cool pool of water, the portal felt dark and oppressive, like being squeezed through a dark tunnel that felt like it would never end, even though the trip probably only lasted a second at most.

On the other side, Dakul stumbles and falls flat on his face with a dull thunk as his icy staff lands next to him, the runes along its body flashing a dull bluish white. As the adrenaline fades form his veins, the soreness and fatigue wash over Dakul like a wave. He's used a lot of power just trying to hold off the cultist's attacks, and even that proved useless at times. He looks down at his chest, where the pain feels most severe, and sees a deep wound leaking purple-ish blood down the front of his robes. He groans and puts his hand to his chest. His fingers glow the same blue-white as the runes on his staff and a thin sheet of ice crackles and spreads across the wound, sealing it. He didn't have enough power to heal it quickly, but the ice would slowly knit the wound back together naturally over the next day or so.

He stands, using his staff for support as the pair of guards approaches the rag-tag group he's found himself with, explaining in a none-too welcoming way about their respective patrons. Dakul personally favors the noble woman, Pandora, as he at least has experience with dealing with her kind, but the others are as divided as their appearances. After a bit of back and forth, for which Dakul remains silent, a practice he developed as a child to listen in on his parent's conversations when they thought he wasn't paying attention, the guina directs the group to split up and meet with both the guard's bosses before they entered the city.

As the group made their way through the streets, Dakul made his way over to the vampire and the tiny dragon that had been ordered by their de facto leader to go to the noblewoman. When he reaches them (right after Ether's feeding), Dakul pipes up, "I'm coming with you to see Pandora. I'm used to dealing with nobles, I can help."
 
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Jezebel Ada Batal


Mentioned: @Morgrim @HoneyBear-Kat @shadowz1995 @GlassHeartCass


Jezebel looks towards the light elf's direction, nodding her head for their agreeing statements. With their strange group and their current predicament, having official eyes on them at the moment could be troubling. Politics- aristocrats- humans of high society to be precises, those weren't unfamiliar to her. No one in the group doesn't know she's from the House of Pemdas because, who really cares? Being in some big shot family doesn't show your true skill. From the looks of it though, she might not be the only one who was born into a wealthy family; not like anyone can tell in her case though.


Snickering at some of the walking corpse's comments, the monk listens to Morgrim splitting the group up into reasonable parts. Jezebel wonders if he is used to working with a large party seeing how he took command with ease. Despite his smell, Morgrim's on Jezebel's good shit list for now; she's grateful that she doesn't have to interact with either, saving the trouble to the others. The split party disperses and Jezebel watches with some envy as the smol dragon hops onto the vampire. It's the cutest little thing, she thought to herself before turning away to follow her allies. 


The  monk does want to explore and sight-see the city more; her teacher once told her about this place, the battleground between angels and demons a long time ago. Dunheim's more beautiful than her birthplace,  Highwyn. The city feels like a place of possibility other than Highwyn. Jezebel curiously observes her surrounds while they head to wherever the walking corpse is taking the two. The merchant stalls catch her eye- especially the food stands. Jezebel places a hand on her stomach, hearing a low grumble from all that air. "Food..." she mumbles to herself, intensely staring at the stand selling grilled meat. She pats her pockets quickly but remembers those cultists took most of her items. "Those assholes!" Jezebel says out loud; at least she got her gear back. Her gaze reluctantly breaks away when they head farther from the stall while ignoring the sounds from her stomach. It wasn't like she had much money to begin with even though she would deny the fact.


The three stop at a post office and Morgrim addresses to Eleniel about 'secret contacts' ; whatever that means, she thought to herself with disinterest. Picking up as an adventurer like her teacher, allies come and go. Friends will show up again if their paths intertwine again- teachings from the wandering monk. Jezebel examines Eleniel while they talk. The light elf is aesthetically pleasant to the eyes even with the dirt built from the prison. How does one get such perfect skin? The elegance is mixed with cuteness because of her short stature. The monk giggles to herself lightly before jumping to attention when Morgrim calls her name and asks for her input.


Her finger tips play with the openings of her leather gloves. "My thoughts of this? We are in quiet a tough situation with many of use injured and hungry. We do have a lot of choices but I agree on your decision to split us up to explore those choices. Could the cultists force their way into the city?- The guards back there seemed used to that portal opening and closing." She crosses her arms and glances at Elenial then back to Morgrim, "You guys don't think they'll hunt us down in this large area? If so, I fear we should get whatever resources and help we can before the situation gets even worse."
 
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|Tags| Roxii @Javax, Riktos @Alstromeria, Wylloh @Anaxileah


|Location| Dunheim


|Mood| Regretful, Empathetic


|Actions| Watching, Helping, Following, Listening, Feeling, Trying to help


                             |Health|

                   



 "Old pain, shadows forgotten from dreams too real. This side is slow and heavy, but here is what can change."


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 as old as man. Steel on Steel. Magic flying through the air, spells being flung out of desperation. Must Cling to Life. We Must escape. Can't trust them. What is going on? Confusion, anger, fear, Delusion, Pain. A cry for help, I must help them...No. I cannot help, it will only make things worse. Follow. It pained him not to help, it went against everything he stood for. But he could not help them, it would make matters worse. None knew he was here, none could see or sense him. He was the shadow that wasn't. He would frighten them, distract them. They would be attacked. He would be attacked. So he watched them from afar as they tried desperately to defeat the man in front of them. It wanted to be big, it wanted to kill everything. Eventually the blockade was dealt with, the man that wasn't was no more. He would hurt them no longer, he felt the life flee from the man and enter his realm. The realm beyond. Beyond the robbed corpse was a rock that sung a song. The song echoed for miles, touching and connecting places from afar together. It was magic, a portal to lead them from this jail. Footsteps in the dark echoing behind them, more beings like the previous one rush to catch them. This is there time, he follows behind after making sure no one is left behind. He left behind a gift to ensure they would not follow them. The concoction comforted each one of them as they fell to the ground, entering the realm between realms. They were no longer alive before they captured them, but they were not dead either. They were in a state in between, like a dream except real.


Colors swirling and swashing, creating pictures of places that were and weren't. They could not see the pictures but he could. waves of noise mixing and matching, rubbing against each other and singing a song of noise. They could not understand it but he could. Soon the songs and pictures merged to create their destination, a city plopped on top of the land, like a cherry on a cake. Nature slowly, inch by inch, dissipated as one got closer and closer to the city walls, he did not like this place. Years of pain and suffering, people hurting and pleading for help. Yet the help never came, instead it was the rope that bound and bound, tighter and tighter. It's change over the years, but it was still a mirror of before. Despite the pain it brought however it seemed to bring people together, a new start for those in need. A kindness soon turned sour and twisted, the promise was a lie.


From his realm the figure watched as the others slowly came to their senses, They began to chat among each other, the corpse quickly taking the mantle of leader while the confusion was still anew. He looked between each person with interest written on his face, feeling the pain of the past and the present intertwine. His senses were flooded by their cries of pain as he relived each one in rapid succession, some were relatively mild while others have had their lives changed drastically. The fear was calming but new emotions surfaced. The pain was fresh for many, some such as the lizard girl had many wounds, while others had minor scratches. They were exhausted and distrustful of each other, fear was still a factor, some wanted to leave while others did not know what to do. Before long the clanking from heavy armor could be heard. Two new men, guards from Dunheim, quickly approached the group and began to speak with them. Promises of rewards and help on the outside. They wore the mask and spoke the mask, but the mask was a lie. Nothing but hardship and treachery would come from them and their "friends." Surprisingly enough the group he found himself surrounded by, even including the elf who tried to run, were already working somewhat as a group. They tried to come to a consensus but ultimately the corpse commanded that they split up to gather information before reuniting and coming to a decision. He did not understand why or what they were doing but he decided to tag along as well. This time, if anything happened, he would help them. They all bore something that made them brighter then the others. He did not know what it meant but something bound the group together.


During his look he sensed a pulse or energy emanating from the blind wolf-elf. It was a wave of energy that ran across the surface of everything, returning what he could only assume as an image for her. Her pain was long and old. She looked exhausted but otherwise clean of new wounds, but was however dotted with many wounds from her past. Some were open while others were hidden, he felt sorry for her. He felt that her life was already hard enough, she did not need anymore suffering. The man decided to tag along with the group heading towards the so-called "Den." From what he could remember this was a place of thieves and bandits, people who hurt others. Sometimes the hurt helped others in pain but most of the time it was for their own  personal gain. He did not like those that would harm others for selfish reasons.


Their group consisted of three others. In front of them was a man who was sometimes a man and sometimes a bear. He was an old pain that had numbed the senses, he felt like the unfeeling. But why? He seemed like he cared for the people around him but at the same time didn't. He helped the lizard girl walk until she could on her own, helping her with her wounds and offering her and another female bark from a tree as substance for their stomachs. The boy never got why people needed to eat, he always questioned why. Ultimately he never figured it out. As the bear-man began to chew on the bark he felt the memories flood back. A cub that wanted but could not have, It pounded and pounded, hurting and hurting, until they fell. Sweet sweet freedom from the pain of hunger, more, more, more. He ate until he could not. These memories were soon shared to the rest of the group. 

The second person of their small group was the injured lizard girl. Her wounds were some of the more severe suffered within the ragtag group. Pain, cold, Why am I here? Why did he help me? Shock, confusion, thankful. Her pain was softer but still there, she walked differently then the rest. Despite her position she felt similar to the Man who was a bear who is a bear that is a man. Peaceful, caring, yet not at times. She hid who she was, taught not to show and not to care. She came from serenity but it was forced not natural. The man was sad for her. She wanted friends but could not have any.


Lagging behind was the third and final member of their four man mini group, the aforementioned blind wolf-elf. Her pain was the loudest, tied with the undead man. Both physical and mentally she was strained, exhausted, scarred, and beaten. Shadows, knives, death, betrayal, slavery, forced to fight, Mother, father, why? She did not trust the group around her, the scars of her past blinded and prevented her from doing so. Eyes rough, Jangling armor hurts my ears, back aching, feet hurting, fingers to tired for carrying.  Can't Trust them, must keep a look out. Wind cool like the garden at home. Lips scalded as I sip, warmth blossoms from mothers kiss, a handful of orchids. I miss them, beautiful and graceful. They smell nice too, like mother use to. 


As they began to travel to the city the boy began to form an idea. It was small but it was all he could do at the moment, and if it could help it would be worth it. He wished he could do more but for the time being it was all he could do. Like a gust of wind he silently moved on. They did not notice he was there, and they would not notice that he was gone. To them he never existed in the first place.  He was the boy who wasn't. Inside his realm he traveled faster then they ever could, he walked yet he didn't. Disappearing into the city he began to gather the ingredients for his idea. In and out of shops he drifted, searching and searching for what they wanted. While searching he felt the pain of others around him, he wished he could help them as well. But for now he was focused on the ones that he could help. It did not take him long to find what he needed. Not having to abide to the normal laws that governed the rest of this world, he was quickly able to take what he needed. A thing here or there began to go missing but people could not tell what they were, who took them, or why. They soon forgot and moved on with their daily lives.


The boy quickly returned back down the main path that he took, no longer passing in between the objects as he had already achieved what he needed for them. A small comfort for each of them, the best he could do to help sooth the wounds and bring some comfort to them. The hardest part was bringing everything back while managing not to let anything fall. It was easy not to let others see it, just having willing others not to see,, but it was hard balancing everything. He did manage to keep everything from spilling, thankfully, and caught up with the group when they were just in front of the city. As the boy approached his group he began to organize everything on him, organizing everything so he could give them his presents in the order of which they were at. He bypassed the guard and went straight for the wounded lizard girl. He placed the rest of the objects in his pockets before using his now freed hand to gently guide one of her own, using just enough force to guide her but not enough to make her feel forced to do so. In her hand he would place a warm wooden bowl of beef stew with a wooden spoon in it as a utensil. He felt that beef stew often reminded her of home. He would then approach the man-bear and place three different variants of apples in his hand, guiding them so they may carry the fruits of his labor. The man's story mad him sound found of the apples and so the boy wanted to give the man some variety and something better then bark. The boy then would pass around them and approach the blind girl, In her hands he would place another apple for her to eat and regain her strength and a handful orchids, something she secretly liked and missed from her home. Each time his hands left the object(s) they would appear to the others, as if by magic. Before he willed them not to see but now he willed them to see. The boy who wasn't could do little but he hoped this helped. 




Coded By || StoneWolf18
 
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Tags: @GlassHeartCass [Fleetingly] | @Morgrim | @Anaxileah | @Alstromeria | @Federoff


 


Mentions: Miragmi [Fleetingly] | Morgrim | Wylloh | Riktos | Crow


Location: Outside Dunheim ➙ Dunheim City Gates


Mood: Suspicious | Cautious ➙ Reminiscent ➙ Irritated


Status: Exhausted | In Pain | Dehydrated | Starved


Inventory: Shadow Bow | Twenty-Six Arrows | Dual Shadow Daggers | Armor


Notes: N'Til'Nond : Undead


Velglorn : Assassin


Torsk-Edain : Bear-Man


U'Raanu : Elf with No Family


Wassik-Kesir : Wolf-Elf


 


 



 





The reptilian hybrid and small dragon offered their opinion of the situation before the N'Til'Nond spoke up again. He decided that the best course of action for them was to split up and consider their options. The group was divided into three groups: one to meet with the noble, Pandora, one to acquaint themselves with the Den, and the last to accompany the undead man. When (seemingly) everyone had their jobs assigned to them, they separated and began heading towards the city.


 


Roxii's unharmed ear twitched in irritation and suspicion. She didn't trust these people, no matter how genuine and kind some of them seemed. The bear-man seemed loyal and kind, and the reptilian female seemed to just want to help then get away. But the assassin knew better than to assume such simple things of people she hardly knew. Even the most innocent of young children could be a bloodthirsty killer, and these people were no exception to this truth. Nonetheless, Roxii trailed behind her two assigned companions.


 


Someone was following them. The Velglorn swiveled her ears so that she could hear the male trailing behind them better. He made absolutely no sound whilst moving, as if he were levitating above the ground or not of this mortal world. She sniffed the air. The silent male had no scent either. It was as if he didn't exist at all. The only reason the wolf-elf knew he was there was the fact that she could "see" him—or at least his soul essence. Was he even human? It didn't seem as such. But he looked human. Perhaps he was another Shadow Walker? it was possible, though rare. The rogue has yet to meet another who could traverse through the otherworldly plane known as the Shadow Realm.


 


The elven hybrid halted, her attention drawn to the beorning. The Torsk-Edain had stopped to... tear a sizable chunk of bark out of a tree? A source of food or boredom? Her silent inquiry was answered when the man put the bark in his mouth and began grinding it between his strong teeth. When her two companions continued walking, she trailed behind, keeping an eye on them and the silent male following them. The male wasn't careful about his movements, which meant that he wasn't afraid of them. Was he a late addition to their small group?


 


The U'Raanu exhaled quietly through her nose. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't exhausted. Her wounds needed to be re-treated and her bandages replaced. The wolf-elf's entire body ached, ranging from a dull throbbing to a sharp pain. She stretched her fingers by curling and uncurling them a few times then massaging each of her palms. There had been so many battles the Wassik-Kesir had been a part of. So much energy had been sapped out of her in the past few days. When was the last time she'd eaten? Too long. An arm curled around her lower abdomen as her stomach gurgled hungrily. A hand reached up and gingerly re-adjusted her blindfold, situating it into a more comfortable position.


 


Roxii stumbled. She hardly caught herself before crashing into the ground. She composed herself quickly and continued trailing after the male and female. A light breeze caressed her exposed face, kissing her aching wounds and burning scars. It was perhaps the nicest thing she's felt in a long time. It reminded her of long ago, back when she had no worries except for what she wanted to do that day: practice archery, go horseback riding, go for a stroll, play with the other children... Oh, how she missed being an ignorant child. Sweet, blissful ignorance...


 


It was then that the wolf hybrid realized that the silent male had disappeared momentarily before returning again. He was now in front of the group, approaching them. What was he carrying? Supplies? And why weren't her two companions reacting to him? The odd male seemed to silently guide the two's hands to the supplies he gave them, discretely placing the—what seemed like—food in their hands.


 


And then the male approached Roxii. She halted instantly. The male tried to do the same to her, and she felt an odd sense of following what he was doing, as if she wanted to do what he willed. Her hand involuntarily reached up to retrieve the items he brought her: an apple and orchids, a long lost childhood favorite. She wanted the food. She wanted the lovely orchids. Those beautiful flowers that she once loved so dearly. But how did this boy know? Before her gloves fingers grasped the lovely items, the assassin snapped out of her involuntary daze and snatched her hand back away from the items and the boy, allowing the apple and orchids to fall to the ground.


 


She growled, baring her razor sharp teeth at the boy. "What do you think you are doing?" Roxii snarled. "I do not need your help."
 
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Eleniel










The undead man listened while everyone gave their input and decided that the group should just split up and test the waters on both sides. Agreeing to disagree, it seemed like, at least until we know the better option. One small group was assigned to pay a visit to Pandora, the other would see what this shady business was all about. However, Morgrim did not sort Eleniel and another woman into any of the two other groups. Instead, he chose them to accompany him for....unknown reasons. Eleniel glanced at the other woman, giving a nod to each other in understanding, and just like that, the trio was off. The light-elf gave one last look behind her, watching the others go their ways and wishing them a safe return. Ahem, I mean...a safe return so that they could pass information along, and go with the better choice, of course.


Morgrim's company ventured into Dunheim, a place she always dreaded to enter. They followed two guards, traveling through the tall grasses that surrounded the city's walls, a sea of green plains. Each time a breeze would pass, the grass would sway back and forth, bringing it to life, mimicking waves of the ocean. The petite elf watched the blades lazily do their dance, entranced by their peaceful motions as she passed, looked like a comfy place to lay. She stuck her hand out a little at her side, allowing her fingers to graze the prickly edges of the grass while she walked. Loose strands of silver hair freely wisped into her face, tickling her nose and cheeks. She continuously tried to move them out of the way, behind her ear, but the gentle wind was stubborn and just brought them out of place again. The large gates of Dunheim distracted her from taking in the view as they opened. Eleniel's azure eyes moved from the fern green of the open meadow to the creaking, rusty metal doors parting upon their entry. The elf's eyebrows pinched together as soon as the unpleasant sound reached her ears, and she realize they were already there. Immediately, the trio was met with a variety of sights, sounds, and smells that quickly took over the senses. "So nightlight," the morgul's nickname instantly grabbed her attention and made her eyebrow twitch, unamused, "do you intend to tell me where you thought you were heading earlier? I'm not sure if you realize the gravity of the situation, but you nor I can handle this mess alone, and it can't be ignored. If you have some secret contact you would like to meet I would suggest sharing that with the group, we need all the help we can get at this point, and don't think otherwise."


The light elf huffed,"There is no secret contact," she reassured, one hand flipping her long hair over her shoulder before crossing her small arms over her chest confidently,"It was naive of me to think I could get away so easily," she confessed, looking away from him,"I suppose it was for the best. We do need all the help we can get, leaving wont help any of you..." she quickened her pace to pass him, nonverbally ending their conversation.


Merchants with their stands, chitter chatter of buyers, and the haggling of sellers, it was all very lively and a lot to take in. Eleniel looked around, eyeing each stand or shop with their goods. Products ranged from, furniture and rugs to food and children's toys. Most food stands were lined up side by side to each other, one of which the elf caught Jezebel looking at earlier. Behind her, Eleniel could hear Morgrim talking with Jezebel asking for her thoughts before they reached the post office the undead man lead them to. She stopped waiting for the others to enter before she did,""You guys don't think they'll hunt us down in this large area? If so, I fear we should get whatever resources and help we can before the situation gets even worse." the woman asked with concern. (i cant undo this bold and underline for some reason so dont ask)


Eleniel closed her eyes,"Its not impossible, but I agree. We should get what we need and leave with haste," she glared at the market place when she finished. Eleniel didnt favor the humans of Dunheim very much, and avoided the place as much as she could. 


@AnimusLight @Morgrim
 

MORGRIM






Mood: Stressed, Annoyed, Impish


Status: Mostly Healed, Satiated, Quenched, Tired



Location: Dunheim City - Markets, Post Office, Guild Hall




 




Morgrim listened to the two women unable to control his thoughts of how naive the two of them seem in comparison to him. 'Whatever will I do with this bunch, hardly any of them even look like they have experience in a fight, or spent so much as a night in a library. It'll be up to me to save these idiots and myself from this damn menace.' "Look I am unsure if you have realized this so far, but Cultists don't have a magic type, no element, they use some strange form of void magic. My guess is they have no way to track us with magic, and with no connection to any sentient beings on Landfall they can't rely on spies." Morgrim crosses his arms while letting out a slow pained breath, his curse was putting his body through some physical duress as if he was slowly burning up, and so he desperately reached into his robe for a vial of special healing water. It was his last one, and he would have to concoct more. He took a swig, and let the fluid slide down his throat, and as they did so did a memory surface. 


He was back at home, in the small body of a child. A woman was working over a table with a mortar and pestle in hand. Freshly ground herbs now hardly more than dust were mixed with water, she then heated the mixture and minutes later she filled a vial with the transparent concoction, distinct only by its faint smell. She gave it to him, and he remembered a pain he had on his arm. He had scraped his arm pretty badly on a sharp poisonous plant, and this was common treatment as his village was surrounded in poisonous flora. The pain soon faded after drinking the healing water, even though the pain was only a memory. "Thank you mom!" Came a small weak voice, from an equally small and weak boy. The mother he had yet to lose kissed him on the head, and he rain off, his memory falling into darkness. 


Morgrim stood there incapacitated for a short duration as the memory felt too much to handle. He was somehow convinced that killing Tuso two years ago would make the memories easier, but it didn't ease them in the slightest. Every moment he re-lived from his past was painful, and make his heart burn up and swell with barely suppressed anger. 'I swear I will kill them all, every last one of them. I'll tear the bodies apart, but leave their minds capable of seeing and feeling every detail! I will burn every last one alive!' He tightened his fists, his left hand's pale flesh turning red, and his right hand, well it was all bone, literally not a scrap of flesh on his right hand. He let out another heavy breath and tried to calm himself down. 'Someday soon it will happen, but only if you are in control.' "Yes you are right, about me being right that is. We can't go splitting up, they may not be able to track us easily, but that doesn't mean they'll never find us. I believe they operate on a hive mind, and thus I think something is controlling them, but until we figure out what it is, we play it safe and smart." He turned his gaze back onto Jezebel, she represented something he did not. Kindhearted, physically strong, and perhaps even likable. She acted first, but did so to aid others. "Jezebel it's likely I will not be around every step of the way, and I can't have this group falling into anarchy and chaos. I think when I am away it best for you to lead the group until I can find my way back. Don't ask me why, and don't say no, just know that I trust your judgement."


The courier with his letter would likely already be outside of the side, and on their way systematically searching every other civilized place until they deliver all the letters, it shouldn't take much longer then a few days, and then he could have Jass back at his side, helping him taking on immeasurable odds. Perhaps even the mercenary has heard something about the cultists. For now the three would have to go to the rendezvous, the best place being one of the guild halls. (I know I didn't say it in the first post, but lets just assume Morgrim did.) The Order, a group of fighters was a perfect start. Anyone willing to fight, and fight for good is allowed to join, and the registration is as simple as filling out your name on a piece of paper, in fact that is  exactly what it is. They always have bounties up and they could make some money for themselves so they can at least buy some food so they don't starve to death. Speaking of which he noticed how both the nightlight and the girl Jezebel must be starving, and matter of fact so was he. So next time he stops by one of the stalls he would be sure to use his bargaining skills to secure some grub. Walking out the door he plotting something for some poor merchant and it only took him a few seconds, and he couldn't help snickering under his breath in an almost raspy evil kind of way. He approached one of the stalls selling an arrangement of meats, and he looks the man at the stall dead in the eyes. "Listen here, me and my friends are dying of hunger right now, so we got two choices. Either you can give us a fair cut of meat, and we all walk away, us with full bellies, and you feeling good for helping a couple of strangers down on their luck. Or I start touching all your meat and make a scene." Morgrim emphasizes the second option by placing his right hand down on the table, nothing but bone that had colored oddly from being exposed to so much blood and dirt. The merchant didn't have much of an option and gave them all a small portion of meat while glaring daggers at them from behind his stall. Morgrim happily bit a chunk of meat straight off the bone, but quickened his pace as the merchant would probably flag down the first guard he see's and say they just stole that food from him, which Morgrim kind of did.


The Order's guild hall was close to the merchant quarter, and was a huge imposing building that stood as high as any mountain. Heavily armored men and woman of varying races stood all around it. Guarding, inspecting bounties, or just gossiping with each other. One of the only places that allowed other species in unhindered it serves as a hub for aspiring adventurers, or experienced veterans. Morgrim stepped inside, expecting his two followers to accompany him. Large stone bowls filled with charcoal and roaring fires that brazenly hug the stone walls, and lick at all who enter decorate the entry way, and at the end of the hall there was an amazonian looking woman sitting bored at a large wooden desk. Morgrim approaches, but she barely looks up expecting to be annoyed with another group of hopefuls or incompetent heroes. "If you are looking to join the Order please leave you name in the ledger and continue forward, if not you know where to go." Sounding monotone and un-enthused about speaking or even being alive at this point. Morgrim left his name, and a scowl at the lady for treating him as if he were some mundane idiot.'Worthless fool.' "Do the same you two, and then come on, we are going to the tavern to pick up some rumors and wait for the others. Feel free to look around."
 
Jezebel Ada Batal


Mentioned: @Morgrim @HoneyBear-Kat


The monk glances at the light elf when she agrees with her statement. For true reasons? She wasn't sure, but it feels pleasant to have someone agree with you time to time. The feeling is shot down when Morgrim speaks up with his knowledge on the cultists. How was she supposed to know about these things- whatever they are? This is the first time she's ever heard of cultists- but then again if they were in any books she was supposed to read when she was young, that information must have went in one ear and out the other. Jezebel does keep the walking corpse's info in mind. It does ease some of the tension that's been built up since her captivity. She doesn't like the idea of pursuers who were successful in capturing her, succeeding once more. 


Her sight catches the rigid movement of Morgrim's. Worried, she watches him take a swing of a liquid in a vial. Now that his physical self seems unwell, Jezebel does wonder how he became how he looks like. She's not familiar with the undead- not that she wants to know more in depth- but there must have been a time when he was not 'undead' right? Jezebel scrunches up her face and crosses her arms, the corpse looks so fragile as if he would turn into dust with a mere gust of wind.


Morgrim continues after his short pause. "-A hive mind?" Jezebel has the look of disgust blatantly painted on her face. The first thing that came to mind were bees. BEES. A shiver runs up her back at the thought but she continues in a quieter tone, "Gods, what are they to have an ability like that?" Better not be some sort of bees- or wasps- but that's just her silly phobia speaking.


Jezebel locks eyes with the walking corpse once more when he calls her by name. Her eyes widen at the huge trust given to her; she's honored to have his trust but to command their group while he's gone? The monk believes her judgment to be true to what she follows by. But could these misfits, who some seem to not care for what little good there is left in the world, follow behind her lead when in desperate need?- Could she do it? She's definitely no captain and doesn't have experience or knowledge to prove her ability to lead. As the youngest of her family, responsibility and trust wasn't something she was given often. But it's not her to turn down a challenging task like this.


With the nod of her head, Jezebel responds, "If you believe that to be fine, I will try within the best of my ability." 


As the three continue to their destination, Jezebel stands back with Eleniel, curiously watching what Morgrim is doing at a meat stall. His display of bargaining is clever but it doesn't settle well with the monk and her kindhearted soul. Her stomach growls loudly when guiltily staring  at the meat handed to her... they are desperate. While Morgrim scampers off, Jezebel makes sure to remember the face of the merchant and the stall before following behind. The meat is devoured with a silent promise to repay the poor merchant back.


The three arrive to a building so huge that it looks like it could reach the clouds while towering over the residents below. The adventurers surrounding the area mimics the intimidating structure. Enthralled by the scenery, Jezebel almost lost sight of her small group and hurries up to catch up with them. She's ushered to write her name on a ledger without thought seeing as this must be part of the plan- whatever it is.


Where to find decent rumors now...
 
||Wylloh||/monthly_2016_09/Wylloh.jpg.e956da53ac319823086fbf40dd5921e0.jpg



Addressed: @Javax | Mentioned: @Alstromeria @Federoff @Javax | Status: Thinking -> Eating Stew -> Peacemaking (hopefully) | Mood: Worried | Location: Gates of Dunheim -> Following the "Shifty Guard" | Inventory: Bow & 20 Poison-Tipped Arrows, Light Armor, and Satchel (full of bandage strips, empty vials, and vials of various poisons with their antidotes) | Notes: Sorry it's short. u.u



After Wylloh had given her input to the animated rotting corpse, a much smaller creature also gave her input, her small voice holding a deep and musical tone, contrary to her minuscule size. How intriguing. Wylloh thought to herself, her bright green eyes assessing the creature as it spoke the common tongue of humans. It looked exactly like a dragon, but its size was nowhere near the size of the ancients' impressive builds. Before she could continue assessing the small creature, her attention was torn from the golden scales back to the odious male at the head of the group. "I think we have more options then these two idiots are letting on, so here is what I propose. Ether I want you and Mira to go with the first guard, meet this Pandora, see what she can offer us, if the broad sounds like she can get free work out of us then no deal, I don't plan on becoming some pawn." The man identified as Morgrim paused before looking at the hybrids and the beorning.  "I want you three to go with the shifty faced guard." The guard who provided the option involving the shady den made a sound of protest at the insult, but the frazzled group's supposed leader quieted the Dunheim guard chosen to accompany Wylloh, Roxii, and Riktos.


Once everything was settled amongst everyone, the reptile hybrid walked slowly beside the male who had instantly befriended her glancing up at him every few moments or so. He was incredibly tall, taller than even the elves of the group, and had the scent of animal and the earth on him, as if it emanated solely from his existence. At this thought, Wylloh's eyebrows furrowed and she pressed her lips tightly together, not noticing the temporary departure of the male as she thought about his scent and her own. She knew she smelled of the plants and flowers of the land, rather than the land itself, as if she were designed to undergo photosynthesis herself, while the beorning smelled of the dirt and of the bear half inside him. There's something linking us all together, otherwise the Cultists wouldn't have wanted anything to do with people from all sorts of lands in Aldurin. Her mind continued to wander, attempting to think back to every person within the group and try to remember their scents, but her train of thought was interrupted by the return of Riktos to her side. He had part of a tree's skin in his hand, causing the female to flinch slightly and think back to the wounded tree, silently wishing to aid it, but as the bear-man began telling her of his childhood story, she simply turned her mind to focus on him, while thinking of other things as they walked.


She was quite aware of the female assassin's presence behind them, and she did not mind - Wylloh had no doubt that they were safe at the hands of each other, at least, despite their varied occupations and differing scents. While the elf-wolf hybrid stayed behind, her scent of darkness and blood was strong enough to pervade the reptile female's nose and furrow her brows further. We need time to recuperate from the conditions and attack of the Cultists. Just as the green-haired woman thought this, she felt a gentle, chiding gust of wind press against her hands, lifting them up with more force than any normal breeze could. In her hands appeared a warm, wooden bowl, filled with a familiar scent. The warmth spread from the palms of her hands through her arms to her very core, causing her to shiver before sniffing the bowl tentatively. She wondered whose magic had procured the bowl with what smelled like home in it, but her stomach's loud gurgling made her want to eat the food more. Since she had been exposed to plenty of toxins and poisonous substances in her experience as an alchemist and a reader, she could not recognize any that might be present and began eating the food given to her, sending out a silent thank you to whomever would be listening. Riktos had food appear in his hands as well, and as Wylloh turned to glance back at the third companion in the group, she had received gifts also.


Seemingly out of nowhere, the wolf-elf snapped angrily at what seemed to be nothing. "What do you think you are doing? I do not need your help." Her teeth were slightly bared as she snarled at him, causing Wylloh to instantly feel the need to calm the situation, despite her not being able to understand it. She approached the female slowly, her hands still clutching the warm bowl. "Is there something wrong, Roxii? You speak as if there's someone present. You've been gifted as well, it appears. Are you speaking to the giver...? Logically, any source of energy is best taken now, before the threat returns. If you'd like, I can check the apple for poison, as I did this stew. But overall," Wylloh turned to look at Riktos uneasily, before glancing back at the wolf-elf, "The gifts do not appear to mean harm."
 
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The beorning was suprised, to say the least, when he felt the apples drop into his hands. Three in total, one red, one yellow, and one green. All three of them would have fit in one of his hands, large as they were, but he'd have to stretch his fingers. He raised the green one to his nose and took a tenative sniff.


Roxii was not amused by her gifts. And apparently, they came from a being that only she could see. "See," as in sense, the half-elf of course, was blind. Riktos shrugged, and bit down on the green apple, a bit of the juice coming out in a delightful crunch, a few small drops of the liquid dotting his stubbly chin. He chewed, eyes flicking from Roxxi to Wylloh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand that held the apple before taking another bite.


Riktos ate apples whole. This was apparent as his next bite took part of the core and the seeds. He watched Wylloh try to calm down Roxxi, but obviously it hadn't worked."I don't believe in ghosts, but apparently one just handed me my lunch. "[COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]He rumbled, swallowing the rest of the apple without hesitation, [/COLOR]"If Roxxi has need for anything, she will ask. For now, we have a hole in the ground to find." [COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]Riktos didn't think it was wise to deny aid, but it wasn't him who was doing it. He raised the yellow apple to his mouth next, speaking between mouthfulls.  [/COLOR][SIZE= 14px]"To each their own," [/SIZE][COLOR= rgb(39, 42, 52)]he mused.[/COLOR]
 
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|Tags| Roxii @Javax, Wylloh @Anaxileah, Riktos @Alstromeria


|Location| Dunheim


|Mood| Helpful


|Actions| Offering his help, Speaking Inner Monologue
                   



""The Left Hand remembers a knife slipped to her in the darkness, and wonders why the flower blooms.""


Glittering to gloss a hidden hurt. Unlearning not to hope for more. Stumbling steps where the wall used to be. She wants but cannot have. Trust in no one she says to herself, No I don't need help she tells the world. But past the hurt? Past the pain? She knows the truth and the truth knows her, she doesn't want it to be true but yet it is. How does he know? HOW DOES HE KNOW? Silence was the answer to her question, quiet was the answer to the tens of blades that were the fangs. The others had accepted his gifts however. The man who was a bear did not believe in him but seemed content with his apples. The lizard girl also seemed happy with his gifts. He smiled lightly for a brief few minutes because of this. However his smile soon disappeared. "Who is following us? What is he? Why can't I hear him? Why can't I smell him? Why can't the others see him?" A soft and gentle yet somber and soothed voice came from the boy who wasn't. He stood there and watched the frightened girl in front of him. She wore the mask of the lone wolf and the mask of anger. To the outside world she was the wolf that needed no help. but beyond the mask was a cry for help. A plea to stop the pain, "Eyes rough, Jangling armor hurts my ears, back aching, feet hurting, fingers to tired for carrying. Can't Trust them, must keep a look out. Wind cool like the garden at home. Lips scalded as I sip, warmth blossoms from mothers kiss, a handful of orchids. I miss them, beautiful and graceful. They smell nice too, like mother use to." He voiced the inner monologue he shared with the blind wolf-elf while walking to their destination. A pause as he crouched down to pick up the orchids and apple. When he picked them up they seemed to just float off the ground.


"The left hand remembers a knife slipped to her in the darkness, and wonders why the flower blooms. Breath is heavier, wounds deep and bloody, Needles of hunger and thirst. Quickly back up before they notice, no weakness, I don't need help...Someone please help." The objects were lifted back into the air as he stood back up. He took the apple to his coat to wipe off the dirt from the apple. As he did so he manifested in front of the others, allowing them to see him. The clothes of a young boy, of a traveler. A metal domed hat rested on top of his head, dirty blood hair messily protruded from underneath the long brimmed hat. A canteen of water hung strapped around his shoulder and chest. arms outstretched gentle to offer her the gifts once more. His teal eyes softly confronted the cold and distant demeanor, matching her harshness with his kindness. "You want help, I came to help. Sooth and Sathe the wounds and pains of old and new. You are hurt, you are hungry and you are thirsty. You know this."


The boy outstretched his hands a bit further to offer her his gifts once again. His calm eyes never strayed away from the wolf-elf. He hoped that she would take them. The boy who wasn't desperately wanted to help her but he couldn't help unless she let him. Sooner or later the enigma of a boy lifted the canteen from around his chest and over his hat before presenting it to the rest of the group. In it was enough water for the three of them, cool and clean, Refreshing as the morning breeze. "Fleet-footed and free, the arrow that caught the miller's sack, but no longer shot alone, aquiver in a quiver." He commented suddenly, pausing as his gaze shifted past the group and towards the city. He sensed what was inside. The pain, the lies, the misfortune of others. The corners of his lips slightly curled downward. "He hates it all because of the darkness behind the door. Some doors should stay shut. Hurt is coming, I can help you." Once his final words were spoken he shifted his gaze back to the rest of the group, awaiting what was to come next. His words were cryptic but genuine.




Coded By || StoneWolf18
 
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Mentions: Wylloh | Riktos | Crow


Location: Dunheim City Gates


Mood: Suspicious | Confused | Irritated


Status: Exhausted | In Pain | Dehydrated | Starved


Inventory: Shadow Bow | Twenty-Six Arrows | Dual Shadow Daggers | Armor


Notes: Torsk-Edain : Bear-Man


Velglorn : Assassin


Ar vell mellyrnra : By the gods


Ban-Kesir : Half-Elf


Wassik-Kesir : Wolf-Elf


 



 


 





The hybrid's uninjured ear turned towards the reptilian female approaching her cautiously. Her hand hovered over the sheath containing one of her daggers, wondering if she had to battle her way out of another situation. But instead, the other female spoke calmly and softly to the assassin, stopping a few paces away. The reptilian wondered what Roxii's vicious outburst was directed towards, and why she rejected the "gifts." The Torsk-Edain simply accepted the apples he was given, hardly thinking anything of the situation. Did they not realize how unusual this was? How dangerous? Or were they too stupid to understand the severity of the situation?


 


She expanded her full attention to her two assigned companions, wondering what trick was being played upon her. Were they in on this? They didn't seem to notice the boy standing before her, as if he were invisible, but it could all just be a ploy. There were plenty of people seeking to capture and kill the half elf, wanting to fulfill the large bounty hanging over her head that's still growing as the days grow older. It wouldn't be a surprise if they were faking it, trying to convince her to take a bite into a fruit laced with a poison that could either incapacitate her or kill her. That was a risk she wasn't willing to take.


 


Roxii turned some of her attention back to the nameless boy. Why did he bring her orchids? Why, of all the things the male could bring her, did he bring the wolf-elf orchids, a flower that she loved so dearly as a child. A flower that smelled of mother... Unwanted memories flooded the Velglorn's mind, and she quickly stuffed the memories back into the dark chasm that she hid them in. It could've been just a coincidence. Or he could've been from her past. She didn't recognize him, nor does she ever remember a male who could walk around unnoticed.


 


And then he started speaking. The words he spoke sounded familiar, as if she had heard these words before. It was almost as if he were reciting a poem or a song, ancient stories lost to the ever-growing timeline of Aldurin. Roxii couldn't place it. Why were his words, his uneven sentences, so familiar? They were fragmented and cryptic, unusual and unearthly. It was full of emotion and memories...


 


Almost like thoughts.


 


Ar vell mellyrnra.


 


The Ban-Kesir took a cautious step back from the strange man. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat. How could he see her thoughts? Why was he delving into her mind? How could she not detect him? Does this mean he knows everything about her, or just what she thinks about at that moment? The male stooped to retrieve the fallen items and brought them back up. He cleaned the apple on his coat before offering it gingerly to the wolf-elf again. His next words weren't as cryptic, hardly resembling thoughts, and actually pertained to the situation at hand. He offered aid to her, hoping that she would accept his help.


 


The unknown male's words were... oddly comforting. But she couldn't shake the uneasiness that surrounded him. Who was he? What was he? She knew he was right: she was weakening with each step, and she would only grow weaker until she either found what she needed or accepted it from someone else. But he was a stranger, an odd man. He couldn't be trusted. So was the risk worth taking? Roxii strengthened the dark barriers that surrounded her mind, wondering if that would be enough to keep the stranger out of her head. She gripped the hilt of her dagger momentarily, battling her inner morals.


 


With a heavy exhalation, the Velglorn snatched the apple out of his hand, ignoring the orchids, and sniffed it carefully. It didn't seem to be laced with any odd scents, but she knew fairly well that some poisons were odorless. Was it worth it? Roxii hesitated before taking a bite out of the apple. She took a moment to chew the fruit, carefully tasting the different juices that flowed out of it to detect any unusual tastes. When all seemed to be normal, the Wassik-Kesir huffed with irritation. "Stay away from me," she snarled at the male. Roxii pushed herself past her assigned companions and began walking off towards Dunheim, apple in hand. She told them as she walked by, "Let's go. We have work to do."
 
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[SIZE= 36px]Miragmi[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 16px]Mira watched Ether hypnotize the girl and lead her off to feed neutrally. It was a minor subversion of free will in the end since usually the worst humans wound up with was minor blood loss. However when the vampire drained the girl and followed it up with several youths who wandered in she felt disgusted and irritated with her own drained state. Ether spoke when he returned saying [/SIZE]"Alright, let's get going shall we?" He offered his shoulder before continuing, "Actually, would you prefer I carry you in my arms? Or...any particular way you prefer to be transported?"  For a moment Mira froze, feeling somewhat incredulous. She felt her anger rise and with it she felt her flame rise. She had no internal fuel to Flame naturally true, and was drained enough that she could not even fly or hover, but she was a damned dragon and she was never without flame.


 


If the elf had not shown up and spoke a fight would likely have broken out and who knows how well that would have gone. He did however, saying [COLOR= rgb(64, 224, 208)][SIZE= 16px]"I'm coming with you to see Pandora. I'm used to dealing with nobles, I can help." [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE= 16px]Mira promptly walked to the side of the wagon she was on and leapt, landing on the shoulder of the Ice Elf. He was very cold to the touch, but then, being fair she was likely extremely warm to him. She needed to expend the raised energy to remain calm so she changed its route and pushed it into Golden Flame, letting it flow down to the wounds that the elf was healing himself, dramatically speeding up the process. Happily the Gold only involved heat when it was needed for the healing, so like as not to a being of cold it would feel pleasantly chilled. She spoke up then, "You are a poor excuse for an elder vampire, if you need to exsanguinate five youths after a paltry while of starvation and torture. Be thankful that we need to work together for the moment. It would do you well to remember that I at least am not made so pathetic by that same, even if my natural Flame is exhausted presently." With that she launched a small spark of holy Light Bane Flame towards Ether. It had nowhere near enough potency to do more than painfully land on his arm, but by their contrasting natures that in itself would be remarkably painful. She could still do much more, but she knew that they needed to speak to Pandora, and if she was a noble in this city she might have a problem with her burning down a bit of the city in a fight. Plus they had been sent together and while she was going to be keeping an eye out for a convenient pit to throw him into, for the moment he could be needed. She sat back on her haunches on the elf's shoulder and spoke, "We have a job to do, and everything else can wait. I will take your shoulder for the time being if you do not mind elf. I am Miragmi, and I am also presently completely physically depleted. I could walk still but flight with any ease is beyond me, and walking is slow at my size."[/SIZE]


 

 
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Eleniel










The elf stood silent as Morgrim gave the effort to shed a little more light on the cultists, "Do not underestimate void magic," she added,"There isnt all to be known about it." Morgrim continued, explaining that the Cultists dont really have any leads considering how they dont affilate themselves with any one but their own,"And yet they manage to find us," she muttered quietly. Her eyes followed the courier that took his mysterious message and left to deliver it immediately. When the messenger left the post office, she caught a glimpse of the outside marketplace before the door closed. The sound of swishing liquid made her turn around again, watching the undead man take in a strange drink, her eyes wide with curiosity. She blinked a few times, watching him take a moment to himself. She felt his energy, his dark aura that surrounded him, and it sent a pulse when he tightened his fists and exhaled. The emitted energy gave off a familiar sense of anger, to which Eleniel looked away, not wanting to bother by asking what had crossed his mind. She didnt show it, but she did think about others quite often, in this case she thought it best to leave it be. A man's business is his own. Morgrim collected himself rather quickly, speaking up once again about the Cultists, commenting that they work with a hive mind. The petite, light creature put a small hand to her chin and looked at the ground,"Hmm, that explains why they take action so quickly, and even more of a reason to be on our guard."


The trio made their exit back into the main plaza of Dunheim. Following close behind, Eleniel reached back for her long, star-kissed hair that dangled beyond her thighs. Straight, soft, and tangle free, she gathered it all up and tied it together near the top of her head in a high pony tail. She brought it around to lay over her shoulder, and elegantly ran her slender fingers through it before tossing it behind her, letting it hang. With her hair out of her face, the trademark elvish ears were more apparent that usual, and her porcelain-doll-like features stuck out now that they werent veiled by her hair. Pink, pouty, little soft lips, those big doe eyes of sapphire, a subtle tint of rose on her cheek bones sprinkled with light, almost unseen, freckles, and thick lashes that made her skin look more fair. Her young complexion can probable make her pass a young girl rather than a thousand year old elf maiden if it werent for her get up and armor....her height only adds to  being mistaken for being younger than she really is. Still, her tongue was sharp and her temper short, she had a knack for leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.


Eleniel followed Morgrim to the randezvous, traveling beside Jezebel, but before reaching their destination their self-proclaimed leader stopped them at a meat stand. Her sensitive ears picked up a mischievous chuckle in his throat as he eyed the seller like a cat stalking easy prey. He approached and threated, and in moments the seller reluctantly handed over some some of his goods with out much of a choice. She shook her head then looked aloof, standing a good distance away from the other two and the stand, 'Never would I have guessed I would become an accessory to thievery.' Morgrim spit the profit of his ultimatum amongst himself and his two followers. Eleniel stared at the meat in her hands for a moment, her upper lip slightly curled with disgust. Not all elves, but most didnt eat meat, herself included. She wasnt that hungry anyway, at least thats what she told her self. They continued their walk to the randezvous, forcing Eleniel to look up from the meat and catch up with the others. The light elf sighed and closed her eyes, nudging Jezebel next to her and raised the food to her eye level, offering the meat in silence. She didnt look at the woman, and looked straight on, hoping shed take it, which she knew the girl most likely would. Anyone with in a mile could hear the rumble in her belly. 


The search was short, and when they arrived Eleniel took the chance to look around and observe the type of people around her. Some looked like theyve seen some battles, judging by their assortment of scars and cuts. There was a group of large, burly men, heavily armored that looked her way and exchanged the same grumpy look she always had on her face.  Her pride kept her from backing down, and she stared until she passed them. But when she looked ahead of her once again, she came face-to-face with the armored abdomen of a huge man, who seemed almost as tall as the bear-man in their group. Her eyes followed the body until her eyes met with his. A low noise came from deep in his throat, it resembled something of a growl. Eleniel took a step back, a little surprised realizing she almost bumped into him while her attention was else where. Her eyes darted in another direction, looking aloof and innocent, she went around to catch up with the other two. Morgrim instructed them to write down their names on a ledger that sat on a desk in front of a woman who didnt pay much attention to them. These days, it seemed Eleniel didnt have much of her own free will, and with out another word, she did as she was told.


@Morgrim  @AnimusLight
 
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