The Hollow Plague IC

[iByaah]

Once outside his home, Soren with Morrigan in tow made their way towards the graveyard. They moved slowly, firstly to make sure they didn't run into any straggling Hollowmen and secondly he still didn't want to believe it was true. His mind was telling what he was doing but his body and heart wasn't sold. The captain's strong arms, cradled Mia's wrapped body easily, her light weight barely registering. Grey eyes cleared the deserted, smoldering street before the pair crossed it. Darkness covered each corner of Namban now, windows shadowed where light came in nights passed. He wondered if anyone was left alive as their footsteps crunched on the blood soaked ground. "Just this one last favor, Morrigan," Soren whispered as they crouched behind a burning house's corner, "and then you can go your way and I..." he looked down at Mia's linen covered head, "...I will owe you one."

They were close now to the cemetery and fortunate enough to not run into anyone or anything in the burning streets. Soren gave the Huntress a quick, sad smile before crossing the last distance between the residences and the graveyards. They worked quickly, placing parts of broken crates in a pile in the center of the church's cemetary. Quietly, reverently, the Captain and the Huntress laid down the covered bodies atop the pile, mother and daughter shoulder to shoulder. He gave one long, lingering look at their still faces before grabbing a small burning fence post. "I won't keep you waiting long." Soren laid the burning end at the four corners of pyre, and finally placing the makeshift torch at the northern side. It was a poor excuse for a funeral rite, but it would have to do.

"That's it, then." Soren said to Morrigan, watching the wood and bodies burn before them. Now his mind turned towards the rest of the empire and the warning that needed to be raised. "I'll show you to the City Guard's armory and storehouses. We can both ready ourselves for our journey's there." He looked to her now, his expression hard, discernible. "Thank you again for assisting me and the city of Namban this night. If you ever need anything in the future, just call on me. I'll do everything I can." The man now turned away from the pyre, knowing full well that whatever life he had built was done and now it was up to the fates to decide what was left of his time. With those thoughts of flight and warning in mind, Soren turned, making for the City Guard's compound.

[Silver Fox]

Thoughtfully, the young woman nodded as she gazed at the giant bloody man before looking at the doors cautiously. Listening softly for any of those dreadful moans, seeming to haunt and terrorize this place to what seemed like ages to go. It sounded safe to go, but she was still fearful that these creatures could just possibly be intelligent enough to be quiet and draw out survivors. Still, she had to at least try to find whoever may remain. After all, a survivor could be just a young child. Who could be hiding, alone, scared and wondering where their mother may be. Or even worse, witnessed her demise. This man, terrifying as he was, was willing to protect her, and even search for any survivors that could have survived this disaster. For that, she was thankful and was given some confidence.

"...thank you kind sir.. I do not think I could make it on my own so I am thankful for your help. I may be scared.. But I fear for others who may be in even worse conditions... We should be off.. I am ready." Andraste said softly as she walked up to stand beside him in front of the large door, taking a final glance toward the Goddess. Hoping that she would grant them a safe journey. Lightly, she pried the door open, staring into the darkened steps. With a deep breath, the sister started to walk along the steps cautiously, making sure to keep them silent and careful not to slip on her robes. After walking a few heartbeats, she decided to at least get a name from the man.

"If I may ask kind sir... What is my savior's name? I am Andraste... It is nice to meet you, though I wished we could have met on better.. Circumstances.." ​she said softly, as her blue eyes softly glanced toward him.

[Shiala]

Morigaan watched Soren with an unfaltering gaze, she watched the weakened man slowly gather his thoughts, his eyes glazed over, his face swolen from crying and fatigue. She did not answer him, for in truth she had never have to do such a thing, and she had no one close enough to her to render a similar action in herself. She was utterly alone, but she embraced solitude, others only brought baggage, and this event had only proven that intermingling with others only lead to hardship and misfortune. Even as she prided herself on being a strong, capable, and independant woman something would not let her leave the man alone, perhaps it was the shocking event of watching a strong man crumble before her. Or perhaps it was the fact that she still felt endebted to him even though she had repaid the debt seven fold. With out Soren's influence she would have been dead only a few nights after stepping foot into the city. Soren knew that, and so did she. She was thankful he saw past her wild appearance, and saw her character rather than her untamable and foreign appearance. Many people branded her as a witch, necromancer, and a user of the dark arts,though she was none of those things, only one with the earth and gods of old. Due to his influence she was able to make a meger life in the city, although she was far from accepted, she was protected, even though she chose not to aknowledge it.

The huntress looked at the hastily wrapped body, the blood the fabric had greedily consumed now black and hard. She nodded slightly, moving towards the body in quiet steps as she hoisted the body up and over her shoulder. She was ridgid, her corpse gave lightly to the curve of her shoulder and bent slightly in half. Securing an arm around the corpse's waist as she followed Soren into the open air of the city streets. The inky darkness cloaked everything, only the filtered silver rays of moonlight illuminated the streets. She followed behind Soren, his pace burdened with the heavy body of his wife as he weaved his way through the streets. Both of their attentions focused on the night around them, listening out for the gasping moan of a hollowman, though the eerie silence was the only thing that rang in their ears, broken up by the shuffle of their steps under the weight of the dead and fatigue.

Soren's whispered words broke the silence that carried with their footsteps. "You owe me nothing." She said calmly, the silver tones of her voice tarnished with fatigue. She remained quiet as she continued to follow him, her eyes scanning the shadows, the weight of the body weighing on her even though it was lighter than the game she would usually haul in the forest. "Tending to the bodies of the fallen, is a burden siblings of battle must share." She watched as he gave her a somber smile, half dead as if the death of his family had sucked away his life. She nodded slightly as they neared the cemetary, the large cathedral shattered and broken, scorched and battered after the events of the day, it looked more like ruins than an active church that had been in use only this morning. Setting down the bodies they scavaged bits of wood from splintered doors, shattered crates, torn down fences, it was an hours worth of work before they had built a stack large enough to accompany both bodies. The ceremony was quiet, solemn in the stillness of the fallen city. The flames consumed the dried wood quickly, and then slowly consumed the blankets that wrapped the two women. The orangy light illuminated the graveyard, casting shadows where the headstones rested above their dead. The smell of burning flesh did not phase them as they stood relatively close to the blaze. Morrigan nodded quietly pulling her eyes away from the flames as she watched the weakness in the man's face disappear. "As I have said before, you owe me nothing. The city owes me nothing. What I have done is for you, not for the city." She looked back to the fire as she heard Soren turn away, " This city has never done me any favors, only provided hardship." She added, quietly as she quickly turned away and followed Soren to the guard's compound.

[Buio DiAngelo]

Near the Prison and Guard Outpost

As Laurana had made her way out of the prison, she had kicked over some rubble that, unbeknownst to her, had attracted the attention of a nearby straggler. As she was crouched and looking in the other direction, the lone hollowman came up behind her and, smelling the sweet scent of life off her, the essence that it would desperately need if it wanted to remain 'alive', it let out a famished roar and shambled after her, not possessing the mental faculties to realize that keeping quiet and sneaking up on the girl would have been more effective and thus alerting her to its presence.

the Hollowman had a broken leg and could only move toward her at a slowed pace, but its loud snarling and growling was also attracting the attention of other nearby hollowmen. Dispatching it would be a simple enough task, but doing so meant risking having to deal with the three others that were heading over to investigate the commotion. Since the hollowman's leg was broken, outrunning it would be easy enough, but it was starved for energy and would not give up chase quickly, which might result in it alerting even more surrounding stragglers to the girl's presence in the area. The decision of how to proceed would have to be made quickly but wisely.

In the temple of peace

Interesting thing about barricades. They're nearly as good at keeping things in as they are out. Once the massacre had ended and there were no longer any living to feast on, the orphans scaled he walls and exited through the windows from which they came. That, however, left all the dead inside (who hadn't been devoured or mauled beyond recognition of what was once human) to rise as hollowmen, only to find they were trapped in the same temple they had hoped would grant hem sanctuary in life.

Over the course of the day, the trapped hollowmen could do nothing but wait and wail as they heard and felt their brethren leave the town. they raged as they were caged and unable to follow in the Plague's march, and felt the closest thing to fear that their undead minds could conjure when the knowledge that there was no life energy around them, being encased in a prison of lifeless stone. As the hours rolled by they felt the energy that supplemented them slowly trickle away. The curse commanded that they constantly seek out energy with which to preserve themselves, but their situation made this impossible, which led to primal rage and fear to overtake the crowd. the hollowmen, that are usually united in their search for carnage and sustenance, as the curse demands it, began turning on themselves like a pack of rabid animals. They knew they could no feast on each others flesh, but as desperation to fulfill their roles came about, they mistook whatever was vaguely human as potential prey and began infighting. After having already been killed by hollowmen that morning, many suffered a second death at the hands of the very same horde. eventually, however, they all grew too tired to even fight and, to cut down on their consumption of the precious little energy they had left, simply stopped moving altogether, standing perfectly still together as if in a trance.

In this state of pseudo-hibernation, the hollowmen were now only waiting for their magic to run out and death to claim them once more. There are but 45 left within the temple, with 20 of them all still concentrated in the prayer hall before the front entrance, the rest having wandered off into the rest of the building at some point or another and having gotten lost in the process. Though they await death, they are still ever vigilant. They are weakened, but with weakness comes desperation, should any of them detect the presence of life around them, they will not hesitate to use whatever strength is left to them to consume said life so as to cling to their unlike for just a bit longer. Whomever chooses to approach these creatures will have to do so with the utmost caution.

[Arthera]

Cursing at herself for having missed such a threat before now, Laurana got her first good look at them. Shambling, broken and dirty, the thing, once a human, was nonetheless the most dangerous enemy she had faced. Or likely will face. Stories on the roads said that getting hurt by those things meant goodbye. They could go on forever and are nearly impossible to kill lest you attack the head, or so they say.

There were dozens of rumors, remedies and solutions to the problem, most likely all false or innacurate. Laurana had heard them all, but only spread those she had confidence in their truth. Attacking the head made the most sense, as anything without a head dies, and at the very worst, a headless thing could not attack you, grab you or moan out. She did not put stock in their supposed ability to see through walls, otherwise she would have been greeted by hordes of the things waiting for her to leave the prison. Right now, if she could get out of the thing's line of sight, it would lose track of her if she's careful. Laurana knew how to be quiet, how to stay hidden and especially how to be careful.

Laurana did not want to fight it, she couldn't know what it could really do and maybe if it bled on her, or she somehow touched it with skin, it would turn her like them. Likewise, leaving it shambling after her would make it draw attention to where she was going. Plus, there sounded like more were closing in on her location. Fight or flight instincts kicked in and Laurana snapped into action.

With her sword held head-high, one gloved hand pressing against the flat of the blade opposite of the grip to hold it steady, she took a few steps towards the grotesque thing and kicked out. Her blade crushed it's nose as it lunged at her, but her kick in it's midsection and a shove of her blade made it fly backwards before it could press in further. It had been off-balance and, with a broken leg, easily shoved away and thrown on it's back. Without a second thought, she turned tail and ran, putting as many obstacles between her and her downed target. "Be quick but careful" she could hear her bother intone, and Larana did just that. Making sure that she peeked around corners before running off, avoiding easily kicked rubble on the ground, staying low. Everything she knew about covering ground quickly, silently and as out of view as possible.

With any luck, any stragglers would now be drawn to the downed and roaring horror and not moving in her general direction. The thing with the broken leg would take a long time in getting up and very likely lose track of her now that she was out of sight. If they reacted to sound at all, they would investigate away from where she was going. Which was... still unknown at the moment. Staying out in the open was tantamount to suicide at this point, so it's either back in the prison until things cool down, which might get her spotted again, or find another building to hide in. A cursory glance at her surroundings showed only one other option open to her. It looked sturdy, seemed to have withstood the attack, and bore tattered flags with heraldry of the local knights. A supply warehouse of some kind? A Guardhouse?

There was no time to waste and Laurana went for it, keeping an eye out for other hidden surprises. Either her earlier ploy was working wonders, nothing was nearby or everything was already inside waiting for lunch, but there was no further sign of the monsters during her approach. Still crouched low, she reached the wall and hid behind an upturned and bloodstained cart, catching her breath and listening. Carefully peeking from behind cover, she looked at her surroundings and at how to enter the building.

[iByaah]

Namban's streets smoldered well into the night as the Hunter and the Captain made their way from the Church's courtyard towards the Guard's Compound. Had it been a marauding army sacking the city, the storeroom was likely one of the first targets to fall. Weapons, provisions, maps of the area were all held there. But this was no army in the traditional sense. They weren't seeking riches, fame or even the base desires of a rapist; this was a plague on the people itself. Soren noted the utter emptiness of the streets as he led Morrigan down an alleyway. No bodies, all of them gone.

Sounds of movement and moaning from the next main street signaled a silent halt. Soren cursed lightly as he peered around the corner then looked back to Morrigan. Moaning from a Hollowman was echoing through the streets. Stragglers were always a possibility and while he was running on little more than anger and a need revenge, the captain in him knew that entering another fight was not wise. "The storehouse is just across the way but I can't see where that moaning is coming from." The moaning continued, reverberating from the broken walls and burnt stones. "We must be quick. I'll draw any of them out and make a hole to the guardroom. Once we get inside we'll be able to equip ourselves proper." Soren slowly pulled his longsword from its sheath, some of the strength in his limbs returning, if only a shadow of its former state.

The captain turned the corner and quickly examined the street corners for any movement. A stable burnt to ash with the stones flung down, various houses toppled over, and an upturned cart were the only things waiting his strained and tired eyes. Soren moved forward, pressing his back against a broken wall. He breathed deeply a couple times and looked back to the alley and nodded to Morrigan. Slowly, as centered as he could manage; the man hefted his blade and strode towards the storeroom's entrance. As he crossed the way, his mind couldn't help but wander off the task at hand. Part of him wanted all the Plague victims to come down on him, come rushing out of the flames to make a swift end to it, be done with everything. Reaching the heavy door, however, brought him back to reality.

Soren switched looking from left to right as his hands came up, slow and exhausted, to the keyhole and unlocked the door. His gaze landed on Morrigan, hoping she'd kept up. I've had enough failures for one day. Just this one thing let me have right, today. The door opened without a sound; the guard of Namban were a well maintained force. Inside, the torches were extinguished, weapons were stowed on the racks, and maps were neatly piled on the work benches. The whole office was arranged in a way that lied of security. This will not happen to another city. Soren returned to the main office after clearing the storehouse. "We're secure here; there are weapons, arrows and bolts, food, maps, though only of the surrounding area and one very old volume leading to the Capital."