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Crono-Traveler
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Crono rubbed his forhead, looking more annoyed than pained. He should have left much earlier in the week, and could have drawn far less attention. Dalnas' daughter, Sonya, was certain to try to catch him at some point to plead a different course of action to him, but he'd already set his mind straight on the matter. Besides, what reason was there for him to stay anymore? His work at the academy was finished, nothing was barring him to stay here. Well, except for his few choice friends, of course, but they would have to understand.

He'd packed his armor away, a simple but personally fitted chain shirt, into his bag. No need to constantly adorn it, he figured. The rest of his traveling clothes were on beneath his green cloak. Tattered after so long, but it was his favorite. He looped his belt around, swords at his side, and scooped up his father's pendant. After staring blankly for a moment at it he shrugged and put it around his neck. Dalnas and Sonya both were gone for the afternoon, so he figured now would be as good a time as any to hit the road. He'd prepared himself that morning as though he had an audience to impressed, habit maybe, when in reality he meant simply to head southwards aimlessly.

On the city streets, he kept his gaze depressingly low to the ground. Perhaps luck was with him, as a small advertisement that had likely been pinned somewhere flittered atop his boot. He grumbled, pulling it off and reading it.

ATTENTION WOULD-BE TRAVELLERS:
Worried for your safety, travelling alone? Wish to see the world? No particular destination in mind?
Join Zhaira Darel's travelling group, and meet others who share your interests! We shall explore every nook and cranny this continent has to offer, and will keep each other safe if bandits choose to strike!

Come to the Rusted Blade Tavern on Thursday the 8th to join!

"Hmph", was all he mumbled out. Perhaps someone was trying to tell him he ought to come up with a better plan than wandering out of the city alone. What was today anyways? He blinked, hustling his pace as he realized it was already the 8th. Better late than never, he hoped. When he arrived to the tavern he took a moment outside to compose himself, and wandered in.

Paper in hand, he asked the bartender, "My pardons, I'm looking for this gathering here", pointing down the the paper. After eyeing briefly, he was pointed over to a table in the corner where a few had already begun to gather. From here he could spot four, one looking perhaps a bit questionable. He closed his eyes, allowing any preconceived prejudice to take its course through him and allowing it to run out all in the same moment, a trick his father had taught him long ago.

He approached, offering a low bow to the gathering as he ceased, "Afternoon, I do hope I've found the right place?" he asked as he presented the parchment to the table. In retrospect he felt a little silly having the paper in hand, perhaps implying that he had torn it down himself, but let the thought slide. "Crono," he offered, "I'd be very interested in joining you all if you'd have me."

Baralough had made a good point. Good sense was hard to find in these dark times, Arvanus thought, especially if it appealed to him. That really was a rarity.

Lucius had never thought much of the labels in society. He had been called crazy, maniacal, twisted, evil, cruel, ambitious.. He had no personal need for such words. He hadn't set out to make a reputation, indeed he would have preferred not to have one at all, but he just couldn't seem to blend in. And when an assassin doesn't blend in, he gets noticed. It was bad for trade.

And so he had accepted the titles and the names, pretending as best he could that he was meant to be this way. But really it just wasn't true. Control was something he'd lost a long time ago..

Snapping out of his reverie, he did his best not to look distracted. It wasn't easy; he always looked distracted.

He turned to Baralaugh. "Then doesn't this make the mission a bit more difficult? With the Guard already aware that we're upto something, who's to say they don't know what? And if they do know, then it'll make the mark impossible to get to. She's worshipped, friends, like a Goddess to the people. They'll call in half the city garrison to stand watch over her. It would be insane to go after her.. I'm totally up for it."

He grinned his manic smile and chucked inwardly for some time. Eventually he broke into a full on laugh, deep and weird at the same time. When his face got red and his lungs near-burst he stopped, slowing it down to a giggle.

"Gods above that's funny. I'm a funny guy."

He turned suddenly to Baralough, his face deadly serene.

"I'm terribly sorry, where are my manners? Nice to meet you. I'm Lucius." He grinned his wicked grin and winked his trademark wink.

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Life is like a box of chocolates - dark and messy.

Recruiting members for my RP - Lost Cause. Sign up!
http://roleplayerguild.com/f14/lost-...il-death-4757/

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(OOC: Ragnaroktog. Having received no response from you in my 'are you still part of the RP' PM, I'm forced to say this: If you do not post within five days, I'm removing you from the RP. I can't have anyone in this if they aren't fully committed. Sorry, but I can't give you any more leniency than that.)

The Travellers

Mission One: The First Journey - Zhaira Darel

Zhaira grinned at the sight of the latest newcomer, "Ah, how wonderful! Please sign this list here to make it official," she said, pointing towards the list in front of Daxten.

"Pleased to meet you, Crono, my name is Tarvellin Verinos. I hope you enjoy your time with us," Tarvellin offered his hand for Crono to shake.

When Crono had signed the sheet and everybody was sitting down, Zhaira decided it was time to begin. "Well, I suppose the four of you are a large enough group; perhaps I should tell you all about our first little journey. We'll be going by a few er... rumours I heard recently," she explained, lying quite efficiently, "About a small cave nearby the village known as Veralda. It's only a day's journey to reach the area, and aside from the village; we should not encounter anything. You see, I've heard from a reliable source that this cave may very well contain the magical staff known to the world as 'Spirikanya.'"

***

Tarvellin had heard the name in a story; a legend his family had told him. In an ancient time; an evil wizard had created a magical staff with the power to absorb a person's very soul; straight out of his body. He had used it to seal away the souls of everyone who had ever angered the man. However, a young boy who had witnessed the evil wizard steal one of the souls snuck into the wizard's home in the middle of the night and stole Spirikanya. He almost made it out of the house when the wizard awoke. Discovering the boy; he almost finished casting a spell which was sure to slay the boy when the youngster lifted Spirikanya into the air and used it to silence it's creator for good.

The young boy handed it in to the Corjangaal Order of Wizards, who were unable to find a way to free the souls. They were able to deduce that any soul trapped in the staff would die with the death of their body; therefore they would not be trapped for eternity. The Order made the decision to hide the staff away, sealing it underground, so that no other men or women would be harmed by it, and the victims could die in peace. Now, it seemed, erosion had formed a new opening into the staff's cave.

Tarvellin shook his head, "But surely you've all heard the legend? Why awake such evil?!"

Zhaira sighed, "Well, obviously we'd sell it to the Corjangaal! Surely they'd find a way to destroy it! It's the discovery of a lifetime! Besides, if we don't take it, it may fall into the wrong hands!" At that point, her eyes shifted briefly to Aradi.

The Murderers

Mission One: Charity Doesn't Pay - Faralon Darel

Faralon soon re-entered the room; Cane and Sivrael following him closely. "Well," he said, "If you'll dispose of the bastard, he's yours. Have fun with him," he joked, not wanting to know anything about Jarvax's intentions as he lowered the body onto the floor in front of the undead mage.

"Now that you're all here," he decided, "I'll debrief you on your mission. I'm sure you've all heard of your target, Miss Drela Shorn?"

Drela Shorn was a celebrated heroine; a healing wizard from the Corjangaal Order of Wizards. It was claimed that she had discovered the antidotes to hundreds of illnesses and poisons, made more progress in healing magic research than any other Mage in over 400 years, and even sacrificed ten years of her lifespan in an extremely complicated spell to reactivate a dying four year-old child's heart. She was the head of the Corjangaal Order. However, her lifespan was soon to be reduced by much more than ten years.

"She recently learned the truth about my family. I doubt she'd have sent Vol; she would never waste a life. Her warrior brother might, but Drela would never let him. I'll look into Demir's story while you're all away. As for Drela, she's holed up in Dormu Castle; a research centre for the Corjangaal White Wizards, and Drela's home. She knows I'm after her, which is why she hasn't tried to report anything about my family to the King yet. She can't afford to leave Dormu.

"The place is filled with mercenaries; three hired thugs for every healer in the place. All in all, about 70 inside, including Drela, her brother, and her deputy, a White Wizard named Romarn Senrilas. My only request is that you let Senrilas live, don't ask why. He's about fifty-something, with an incredible temper. You'll know him when you see him. Anyone else, you can kill, but Drela's your only goal. She wouldn't have told anyone else about my family; she's very secretive when it comes to important information. That's somewhat helpful for us. Due to the security you can't sneak in, but I doubt any of them will be a problem for you, Astrolanoid. Just break down the front doors and get the show started."

Astrolanoid laughed, "Sounds like this party'll be a blast! Well, it seems for this one we won't need any skin borrowing; sorry Jarvax."

"Well, if you'll dispose of the bastard, he's yours. Have fun with him."

Jarvax grinned and showed his teeth. "Oh, it is not I who will have fun with him..." He gestured at the body and his 'pets' kneeled beside the body. "But first... they can't eat in this form..." Jarvax placed his hands upon both his pets for a moment before whispering some dark words and a yellow energy flowed from his hands into them and their skin started to ripple and move away.

Gone where the 2 humans dressed as servants, in their place two figures in brown hooded robes with glowing orbs were looking at the corpse. Cane and Sivrael reached for the corpse with their claws and started tearing chunks of flesh from it and taking it to their hoods covering their faces.

Javrax didn't paid any attention to them as he was listening to Faralon's explanation of their mission. A curse to the healers, where were they when his body was suffering under his illness? Javrax would gladly participate in this mission.

At the end that Astrolanoid laughed. "Sounds like this party'll be a blast! Well, it seems for this one we won't need any skin borrowing; sorry Jarvax."

Jarvax bowed his head. "None taken... besides you don't know for sure we don't need it... and I might just do it for the fun of having skin.. or for the pelasure it grants me of hearing my victim scream as his flesh is torn from him..." A maddened look was in Javrax's eyes for a moment untill he looked, somewhat normal again.

Javrax glanced at his pets, they were almos done devouring the flesh flesh of their meal, Javrax could use the bones for a spell later. "Oh how rude of me, almost forgot to introduce myself to this gathered group. Jarvax the Mad is what I'm usually called so I'll stick with that... oh about the one we are killing... can I have the body afterwards? That's all I'm asking, no gold or precious stones... just the body of that healer."

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Crono blinked, taking a moment to eye over towards Daxten. He hadn't been sure what to expect of a gathering of no-purposed travelers, so the idea of making it 'official' came as a bit offset to him. Regardless, as Daxten finished, he nabbed the sheet next and signed without arguement.

Pleasantly surprised by the man's greeting, Crono shook hands with Tarvellin's hand and offered a toothy grin, "That is the goal!", he offered, "but only the ventures will be able to answer that for us." He was the last to to arrive as of yet, and certainly not wishing to be the one holding them up, Crono took a seat.

He couldn't help but quirk a questioning brow at Zhaira as she explained her first goal in mind. He'd heard of the tale once before, as many had, but wasn't sure how he felt about 'treasure hunter' as his first profession. He was glad to see Tarvellin shared a bit of concern in their goals but quickly dismissed any argument with Zhaira's furthered explanation. She was right, after all, if the staff had been put away once for good reason, it was better it end up in the hands of a well-intentioned group for proper disposal once more than most others.

And so he remained silent, simply crossing his arms. Perhaps his flight from trouble making could lead to something all the more interesting.

"I take it we plan to leave as soon as possible, then?"

"Well, I suppose you can call me whatever you wish, it doesn't make much difference, as long as I know you're talking to me it'll work out," Aradi sighed, so that old thing was what they were going after, he'd heard of it, many times in fact, people especially liked to refer to the staff when threatening him, things about finding it so they could get rid of him for good and he wouldn't be able to use any demon trickery to escape the fate, he shuddered at the thought of getting anywhere near the staff, but then again, if the Corjangaal Order had hidden it, wouldn't they be keeping an eye on the thing? It would only make sense to cast a few spells to make sure the cave didn't fall apart. It made sense to him, they were an order of wizards after all, they'd be able to do it themselves, the collective power of about ten of their weakest initiates would have been able to keep it together if it was as large as the tavern he now stood in it would take that many, but any larger and the cave would take a lot more power to hold together, but it only he rolled his shoulders, a thoughtful look on his face as his demonic tail swung in the air behind him, he'd no idea when it had managed to unwrap from his leg, sometimes he almost thought the thing had a mind of its own.

'How very strange that wizards wouldn't protect an artifact like that with spells and such, even for healers and necromancers, making up or learning one simple spell to repel the effects of the weather on stone wouldn't be hard, especially with as many wizards as they are renowned to have, it wouldn't even have to be visible from this plane,' he pondered, frowning, then again, spots with too much magical power fluctuating about it would attract curious magicians, artifact hunters and other stranger, more powerful beings, he'd heard dragons - if they still existed at all - had a sweet spot for magical artifacts, studies he'd done on his ancestors - demons - had told him that he they would take an interest in something like that, but the staff would be useless to them, more gruesome creatures from the other planes of existence might be interested, but that wouldn't mean anything unless they could come to this particular plane of existence, he shrugged to himself, 'I'll have to have a word with that order about protecting things properly, gods, I hope they don't ask me for help with that if they listen at all' he thought, nodding to himself, too deep in thought to notice the newest face at the table.

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Defender and scarer of new people
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“Faralon, Faralon…” a feminine voice, so opposite from the voices of the others convened in the room, started suddenly from a shadowed corner – nowhere near the entrance. Pale silvery light began to emanate from the direction of the beautiful voice, bringing an ethereal creature into full view. It was as though she had just suddenly materialized from moonlight through a window in the room…but there was no window where she was at. The woman stepped gracefully from the shadows, one dainty grey-satin ballerina slipper-clad foot at a time. Sheer silver silk immodestly hugged low about her hips and draped loosely about her dainty soundless soles, baring her long toned legs with each fluid stride as the skirts had slits all the way up to her hips on either side. Her exposed belly, and all of her skin, which was nearly entirely visible, was pale porcelain with a very feint moonlit glow. Her upper body was tightly wrapped in a cris-cross fashion, encasing her undisputedly perfect breasts in the same silver silk material as the material that barely covered her loins. Almost unnoticeable in its scabbard hung a small curved blade of ivory and silver hilt at her right hip from a chain made of mythril she’d stolen from an unlucky dwarf in the Northern Mountains of The Human Kingdom. As one continued to glance up her curvy form, provided that they were not already too distracted by said curves, the perfect impish face of the enchantress could be gazed upon from beneath the dim shadow of her hooded white velvet cloak.

Her smile was serene, almost too serene as she regarded Faralon Darel. “Did not your dear, dear father educate you in the art of plotting certain murder?” Every word uttered from her pale pink lush lips was buttered with a desire, dream or fantasy, causing the average and unsuspecting listener to hang on to every syllable with heady delirium. She pulled the hood of her cloak back to bear her mussed platinum tresses hanging down her neck and between the cloak and her back. Startling silver eyes framed by thick kohl stained lashes bored into Faralon’s with a teasing air to them. For now she did not acknowledge the other formidable assassins in her presence. “You have not adequately checked and re-checked your sources of information my dear young fiend. First, with the late young Demir Vol,” she glanced slowly in the direction of Astrolanoid and gave him a definitively approving smile revealing perfect pearly whites with a slight sharp edge to her canines, before returning her gaze just as delicately to Faralon’s and continuing, “-and it appears now as well with your assessment of the location where these very capable would-be assassins are to access their target. The King’s army is already informed and is posted just outside the castle grounds where Drela is holed up. They are hoping to ambush the murdering devils who would take out their precious high healer,” she raised arched brows and regarded the rest of the assassins meaningfully.

She knew Faralon Darel would never have expected her to show up and truth be told, she would not have, - if her greatest interests were not involved. After all, few knew of her existence and fewer still had seen her fully as these “men” were seeing her now. She was just moonlight and shadows to the poor fools who were ever haunted by the brief sight of her. However, she knew Faralon Darel’s father well and Faralon had seen her all of three separate occasions in his lifetime. Appearing before him was no first, but to the others it was. She did not even know if they had heard of her and cared not. Except maybe where Astrolanoid Direlios was concerned.

She’d heard Faralon was plotting the murder of Drela as it was her business to be aware of all assassination schemes, attempts, failures and successes in the realm, and would not have been overtly interested in this particular plot had she not known Astrolanoid Direlios would lead the scheme. It was part of her agenda after all to keep primary tabs on that man. Her father would truly be pleased with her involvement in this little scenario. Everything was going according to plan…so far…and it would STAY that way.

Kavrend sat at a nearby table, studying his would-be companions. He daren’t trust anyone without knowing their motives. The nearby candle flickered light across his outfit, causing a semblance of shadows and light that would dizzy the eye. He stared intently at Zhaira. She was hiding something; that much was apparent. They all seemed to be hiding something, but hers was obviously the largest. This was enough for him to want to slip back into the night, disregarding the flyer and the sense of companionship. One did not remain alive long when they trusted the dishonest. The half demon gave him a bit of pause though. His mind flashed back to a previous time, a time in which rain was pouring down, and he was in the middle of a dense field.

Kavrend fled, running as fast as he could with his burden. The pursuers were gaining every second. He took a few quick glances back. There were twenty, five within fighting range. The calculations poured through his head. Not unreasonable odds, even for just his typical skills. But the second he stopped, the second his attention slipped for a second, his first friend in years would die. He hefted the bundle he was carrying up higher onto his shoulder, and continued running, limp legs dangling out of the robes he was carrying. The man on his shoulder stirred slightly, and Kavrend’s hopes flared for a second before the bundle went limp once more. They had now reached the opposite edge of the clearing. He gently set his friend down, and turned back to the men coming towards him.

The situation was much worse than he had seen. The field was swiftly filling with more and more men, women, demons of all types. Why? Why was he worth all of this? Kavrend looked down at his friend. If he went out there, gave himself up, this man would live. That was all he could ask. Tears streaming his face, Kavrend unhooked all of his blades, stripped off his camouflaging garb, and turned to meet his doom. The rain slicked his skin and plastered his hair to his face. He walked towards the rush of people on the field. From behind him, he heard murmers and mutters from where he had left the dying friend. He turned, and cried out in a strangled anguished voice. “NO!”

His friend was staring past him out onto the field. Small sparks jumped across his body as portions of his skin flared up with small flames. Within a second, the mage’s body was nothing but lightning and fire. Kavrend rushed back to him, only to be floored with a blast of hot air as the mage’s form flew into the field, rolling and expanding out like floodwater. Kavrend stared in horror at his friend’s parting gift.

The clink of mugs and laughter shook Kavrend of his memories. It was a horrible curse to have to relive the deaths he had seen. He took a deep breath to regain his composure, then stood. He strode to the table, resting his hand upon the half demon’s shoulder. He pushed his hood back and looked at the woman behind the table. “I’ll be joining you on your journey.” He said softly. His voice brooked no argument. He didn’t care if he signed the paper or not. His own life would be forfeit before the life of this mage.

(( OOC: sorry for the late/long reply. Life's been crazy this past week ))

The Travellers

Zhaira looked up in shock, genuinely surprised at another applicant. "Oh! Another member? Excellent, please sign the paper. Did you overhear my explaination of our first escapade?" She asked.

Five people. Five to find Spirikanya. Five to keep it safe on the road to Voro. Five to thwart Delminyon. A perfect number.

***

Tarvellin glanced over at Zhaira when Crono asked his question, then turned back to the man. "When we live is, I suppose, up to Zhaira. I would say, now that we have five applicants, we would be leaving rather soon."

He hoped they would leave soon. The business of Semular and the noise of the tavern was enough to drive him mad.

The Murderers

Faralon gasped when Dori revealed herself, not very eager to see her again. Behind her appearance and charm, a cunning dragon lay in wait, and Faralon always seemed to be it's prey.

"I-I-well... I had no-no-no idea... If the King al-already knows then why... why are we still s-s-safe?" The fear an anxiety passing through his brain was enough to kill a man.

"King's Guard aren't there." A gruff, definite voice cut through the silence like a knife. Astrolanoid stepped forward and looked Dori in the eye. "I know your type. Use what you've got to the point of excess against the enemy, but try it with me an' I won't 'esitate to turn you into the next Demir Vol," He warned sharply, before turning to Faralon.

"The King doesn't know. If he did, all of you would be dead an' I'd be runnin' off into the night by now. Shorn did not send Demir, as I've said. Someone more dangerous would've done that. Before the crisis began, five Earth Mages in the Corjangaal Order visited the White Mage headquarters for a conference with Drela Shorn. Then, this happened. They're still in there. An' one of their methods in manipulating the Earth is the creation of mirages; illusions. So I'll betcha when we stride right into that bloody castle, sure, we'll be attacked on all sides, but they'll vanish before they can hit us. An' even if they did, their blades 'll pass right through."

Astrolanoid grinned in triumph, glancing once at Dori. "So I'm sorry to say your girlfriend 'ere doesn't 'ave enough brain to think outside the square."