The Domain of Rhadamanthys

[Icos211]

Jukka shook slightly as he watched some of the group flee before him, the cobbler following them at a distance behind, limping with strain and the awkward position of his hand over his profusely bleeding face. The frozen winds whipping the scene were not what conjured this response in him. Though he stood as firmly and imposingly as ever, his own resolve had been unsettled. Still, there were a few tearing at the fetters of roots constricting their ankles. Thus he donned as evil an expression as he could muster, and moved to brave the mire that the clearing had become. The slop of mud engulfed the soles of his boots as he moved. Cries of defiance and beseeching of the gods for mercy rose from the throats of those who still found themselves entrapped. However, Jukka did not move to them with his sword, but rather used the weapon to hew at the largest of the roots that he could find. As roots loosened their holds on villagers, Jukka put them all back into his all devouring shadow. "Out! I cast you all out! Leave this forest, and bother it not again! Out, I say!" With these words, those freed scattered, sloshing through the sludge and finding any path available to them that may lead out of the forest.

Trekking back to the cabin, Jukka found Kathleen setting down the sword he had had her raise. He leaned his own against the wall beside the door through which he entered. His hands trembled slightly still with the adrenaline only just diffusing out of his arduously pumping blood. "Madam," He addressed her. "That," He paused to gather his unruly thoughts, "was incredible. I don't know if I should believe my own eyes or not. But in any case, whatever made that happen did us well. In truth I only wished to tell that spiel, crack a few heads, and then let the rest run home and hope it was enough to keep them out of the forest while I'm gone. I've a lot of friends in these woods, and though they would be angered, I can really only hope they would react so vehemently!" A crack of laughter accompanied these words, "Still, there's no better outcome than this could have rendered. Forty men and women seeing the same thing can't all have gone insane wandering in the woods. Guardians of the Forest, though? I'm suspicious. We celebrate Samhain diligently here. We send our dead beyond, and I doubt spirits linger too much."

Kathleen took up a perplexed look, and humored him, "I can't deny anything right now, having seen that. But please, enlighten us as to your hypothesis."

"Either Elitacarufin, goddess of the woods likes one of us enough to put down her hand to get us out from between a rock and a hard place," Jukka's tone made obvious the dismissal of that particular theory, "there really are spirits we have not rid ourselves of, good as they may be, who guard the forest," An extravagant wave of the hand threw the idea aside, "the damn trees are alive, even though no one has ever seen them move, and some how we are just tight as steam on shit in the winter, which considering my chopping away at their brothers I think is unlikely, or" He paused for a second to allow the preposterousness of the previous notion dilute its possibility, "there's a wizard somewhere in the area quite a bit more powerful than any local shaman I've yet met, and he appreciates my effort. All of them are utter crap, but I think we can put little past the world right now. Of them all, I think the magic idea may be the best bet. I've seen things the stories of which would make you think I was rambling dementedly happen at the hands of mages. This could very well be the newest of these tales. I'm going out to have another look's see and try to come to the root of the situation." He turned back to the open door at the finale of his pun. For a second, though, he pivoted back to the woman and quipped "You can come as well, but it's a muddy mess out here and if I know rich women, you wont want to dirty your garments in it."

It was a number of minutes of bushwhacking in the dark before Jukka came upon something of use. As he crushed the scrub at the feet of the mighty trees beneath him, a glimpse of an ebon mass caught his dilated eyes. As common as it was to find the nocturnal sort of beasts on the trails at those deep hours, Jukka considered it little out of the ordinary. Crashing through the bush noisily, he held his log thick arms above his head with each sausage like finger on his hams of hands splayed dramatically. "Run off, beast, you've no business here!" This elicited almost no response, the creature merely snorting in disapproval of the proposition. "Oh, a pig eh? You're a damn big fella, I think I tried to sell your brother for beer earlier in the evening. Well, come now, are you too dumb to know when you're being shooed? Get on with it!" The swine stood at the insult, seeming offended to be spoken to in such a way. "Oh, now you want to fight, ham-boy?" Jukka thundered forward as he laid out his challenge, though he knew not why. He was more speaking to himself, as he was sure the boar could not understand him. As he approached, though, his foot struck an item there on the forest floor. Though it gave a wooden knock, as any other stick, a glint as it was forced away drew Jukka's gaze. A crystal lay there, attached to the coal hued branch, which itself was a far sight straighter than any natural lumber should have been. Checking the still pig once more, and confirming that he was not preparing a charge, Jukka allowed his eyes to follow the stick to its origin. There he found a sable hand jutting from a dusky jacket, and itself leading to a moonless man laying in the mud. "Well met, my dark elf friend." His voice was close and quiet enough that it did not echo, but he annunciated in case the man was dazed. The elf seemed conscious enough, and Jukka tried to speak further with him, "You shouldn't wear black in the night, giants will step on you, especially if you go napping in the leaves. I didn't see you as hard as I looked, and I just about crushed your wand, there. Now you're laying on the ground, in case you forgot that. Are you hurt? I've a cabin near, you're welcome to come sit a minute out of the muck. I'll carry you if need be."

[Knighthawk]

There was darkness, darkness in all directions. if not for the feeeling of pulling him down to the ground, he would not know which way was up, he couldn't even see his hand in front of him, was he blind now? Were his injuries so severe that he lost his eyes or was he drugged or poisoned to sleep as they carved his eyes from his head.

"Crreaative... but no. You aarre aasleep aand quite possibly dying. You lost much blood in the fight. I caan saave you, forr aa prrice."

"Why are you doing this, is this some last revenge for killing your old master?"

"Quite the otherr waay aarround. You killed him with his own sworrd, he could not haave died in aa more perrfect waay by his beliefs. That is why I offerr you this boon, join me aand I will heaal yourr wounds now aand forr aas long aas we staay togetherr."

"There is a catch I'm not aware of."

"Yes, therre is."

"Are you going to tell me it?"

"Not if I caan aavoid it."

"What if I refuse?"

"Then you might bleed to deaath eitherr now orr aafterr whaateverr next horrrorrs the duke demaands of you, but I doubt you maake it to morrning."

"What happens to you if I decline?"

"I waait aand prrobaably get taaken by one of the pitiful guaarrds orr the duke himself."

"If I join you, you heal me, what do you get out of it?"

"You aarre aa waarrriorr, I will feaast on yourr victims."

"Are you a soul feasting demon?"

"Demon yes, but not soul sucking. I feed on feaarr aand paain, you weaarr the prromise of paain like aa caape on yourr shoulderrs."

"And you will not consume my soul?"

"You aask aa lot of questions forr someone who is going to die without my help."

"Probably going to die without your help. I have survived for 12 years before you and I can probably survive another 12 after this."

"I doubt that you will live aanotherr dozen yeaarrs aat yourr currrent paace of violence."

"...The only thing you promise to feed off is the pain and fear?"

"Yes."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Not aall of it, but enough forr you to aaccept."

"Very well, but you join me, I'm in charge."

"Of courrse."

The room filled with smoke as the pact was made, just as the human had undergone a transformation, so was the minotaur. The sword itself was changing as well, becoming a weapon more meant to his hand than the katana would be. By the time the duke came for his prisoner, it would be an interesting time for them all.

[Jack Rinner]

The cool mud was quite comforting. Sitting lazily against the tree root that reminded him of home. Waiting patiently for the spinning in his head to stop and the feeling in his fingertips to return. Nature is a very powerful source to draw ones energy from, and without decades of proper traning, one spell could create chaos and accidental death to the user as well as others. Emris was no natural, nor a prodigy. He was simply taught how one should respect the elements around you, and they will do the same. Anybody could do what he did, even that gigantic tower of a man. All it takes is patience... something that has become very rare nowadays. Emris was patient, very patient. When he left his home 30 years ago he was handed the staff and was told to venture out and simply wait. Wait for fate to guide you, and wait for when it is time to help those in need. He waited.... staff in hand, the same staff that lay broken in half by the very man he just helped.

"You shouldn't wear black in the night, giants will step on you, especially if you go napping in the leaves. I didn't see you as hard as I looked, and I just about crushed your wand, there. Now you're laying on the ground, in case you forgot that. Are you hurt? I've a cabin near, you're welcome to come sit a minute out of the muck. I'll carry you if need be."

Emris looked up at the Tower, then down at the now broken staff. Many emotions arisen to the top at once, but the Elf kept his composure. He did not want to ruin a kind gesture with incessant yelling about how a gigantic tower of lumbering, babbling meat just stepped on the most valuable item in his posession as well as a medium created by his own hand during his apprenticeship and kept pristine for almost 50 years despite 30 years of traveling the land, dodging sword and arrow alike not even letting a scratch fall on his beloved staff, and now here it lies, 2/3 of its former glory. Pretty much a old mans cane now. Emris swallowed hard and just looked up at the man with a smile. "Actually my garbs used to be a mixture of blues, adorned with gold linings, but I guess years of wear have faded them and layers of grime has given them a grimy sheen." Emris took up his newly renamed "cane-staff" and propped himself up. "I needed only a minute to rest while the forest guardians entertained your unwelcomed guests. I'll accept your offer on the request that you let my Bacon-companion there eat his fill of foliage in peace. He has had quite a rough day being stuck inside a tavern apparently doing more harm than good, assuming your stories were from tales of truth." Emris responded with a sly smile.

Using his "cane" to traverse the mud as he casually made it towards the house with Tower close behind and a socially uncaring-yet-trusting Bacon not too far behind, slowly lumbering in rythm with his snorts. Emris came to the entranceway and gently tapped the mud off his boots in a respectful manner. Gesturing a bow and a smile to the maiden of the house. "Thank you madam for allowing me into both of your home. I promise I will not stay long if you two need not desire company aside from eachother." Emris said with a friendly smile as he took a nearby seat and closely observed the damage on his staff in a brighter light. It looked mendable, but it would require time and some material. "I don't suppose you have any Redwood and Corundum laying about?" The bottom end was a mixture of jagged and splintered from the unique resin mix of wood and ore. It was fixable at least, that at least was nice to know.

[Rapidfire]

Jukka's House

Kathleen looked sideways at Emris when he indirectly suggested that there was some relationship between her and Jukka. "Uh huh. What rock did you roll out from under, anyway?"

Emris looked at her, mystified by the tenor of her question. "I am attuned to the many forces of nature, not only rocks."

She looked at Jukka and then back at Emris. "That a fact? So I guess you took notice of the forest coming alive not a few moments before and scaring the daylights out of all of those villagers."

Emris smiled meekly. "As a matter of fact, I did."

The blonde returned the smile. "And you were an innocent bystander in all of that, I'm sure. What were you doing walking around in the dark, dressed as dark as the night? I can't say I know much about elves, but I never took them for beings to hide in shadows."

The elf looked at his staff again. "I'm sure there's much I would be able to teach you about my people if I weren't certain I'd be interrupting your time alone."

"What? With him?" Kathleen asked, pointing at Jukka. "I think you're cultivating the wrong impression."

Jukka snorted in amusement. Bacon snorted too, just because he could.

"We're going to be leaving this place soon. There's a long road ahead of us," Kathleen further explained, her gaze eventually falling on Emris's staff. "Just how attuned are you to the forces of nature?"

"I'm not a prodigy of any kind, but..." Emris began before Kathleen interrupted him.

"Really? That's interesting. And what's with the staff? You use magic?"

"Of a kind, yes..." Emris said, more slowly.

"You don't say," Kathleen said, her eyes adopting a strangely feline look to them as she focused on Emris more intently.

---

Gallia
In the Leaping Mare, dozens of people were crowded around a solitary figure, dressed from head to toe in white.

Luca!

"The man must have been forty feet tall! He eclipsed the trees, so help me! And the arms on him must have been as thick as logs!" exclaimed the pipe-smoker from earlier, supplicating the white-clad figure.

Turning his head around to survey the damage of the boar let loose in the bar, Luca Fiorello contemplated silent thoughts before looking at the pipe-smoker. With a wave of a white gloved hand, Luca pronounced his judgment.

"Angus, you are a such a baby."

"Yes, sir," Angus said miserably.

"There are no people forty feet tall. That is stupid in countless ways. You're describing an ogre, and we all know that they are things in the minds of men. They do not exist," Luca solemnly admonished.

"Yes, sir."

"But thir, but thir!" pled the cobbler, holding his broken nose. "Wat about uth? All of uth who encoundurred that monthter in the foretht could not ha' been mithtaken! Tho many people could not ha' been wrong!"

Luca leaned forward, his chin resting in one of his hands. "So many people were wrong about the empires of old lasting forever. So many people can be wrong, Edwin. It is not your place to tell me otherwise."

"Thorry, thir."

"So the mud and the tree roots clawing at our ankles...that was all just our imaginations, too?" asked someone else sulkily.

"Now you're learning," remarked Luca, leaning back.

"Oh. Of course."

Luca scowled. "Even so, there is a certain...injustice about this. Look at all this damage. Some man looses a boar in a pub out of inconsiderate contempt. That isn't fair, is it?"

"No!" declared the crowd, excited to hear Luca speak. Luca jumped down the table on which he sat and waved a finger dynamically in the air.

"It is a shameful thing! It is an indecent thing! Some recluse of the forest lumbers into our village, destroys one of our neighbor's property, and harasses us? What did we do to deserve that?" Luca fired at the crowd.

"Nothing!" the throng shouted back.

"That's right!" Luca yelled, thumping the table for emphasis. "Unforgivable! Some coward who plays in shadows and intimidates us in the night should not be allowed to walk our streets! Give a menace of his kind an inch, and that bully--no, that barbarian--will take a mile!"

"What do we do, sir?" Angus pled.

"Light up your torches once again," Luca thundered. "If a man claims the shield of darkness and trees to enjoy terrorizing the innocent, then disarm him!"

"But that'th wat we already did..." moaned Edwin.

"Shut up, Edwin. You are now under the direction of a true tactician."

Luca Fiorello was a short man, standing only at five and a half feet, but he had the presence of someone who was as tall as the room. As he watched the villagers get fired up, both literally and figuratively, a grin spread across his face like a fault line breaking across the earth.

[Icos211]

Jukka's cerulean eyes darted back and forth as the pair spoke, observing each in their individual turn. Candle light played on their features, softening the gradual curves of Kathleen's face, and lending shadow to the hard lines to be found in Emris' countenance. Though the elf had not displayed a character to bring up a suspicion as of yet, the sharpness of his face and the nature of his work put Jukka at a mild unease. Magicians had never met Jukka's great approval, should they be any more than prayer leaders of a local village. He had fought magic in the field. He held those experiences in a low regard, fighting harder than he would like to let on for little renown, killing a man who held no tangible weapon, or, in Taborisch culture, basically unarmed. But Jukka knew their power all too well, and the smell of singed hair as bolts of flame broke over his tower shield and spilled into the air around him was still a vividly recalled sense.

But perhaps Jukka was wrong to look upon his guest unfavorably. The man had done Jukka no wrong, and perhaps could shed more light on the instance all three had just experienced. Yet still there was a certain feeling that Jukka got from the man, and perhaps from the entire scene. At least, Jukka assured himself, it's not like I'm getting uncomfortable just because he's a dark elf. Surely that isn't what I'm doing. I'm not that sort of a person. Yet as Emris spoke, and the light was taken in by his pitch colored skin, Jukka could not shake his negative air.

"I'm sure there's much I would be able to teach you about my people if I weren't certain I'd be interrupting your time alone."

Jukka's heart leapt just high enough to jolt his perception and remind him that he was not alone with his mind. The second he was waiting for Kathleen's reply was spent inexplicably building a store of hope infused adrenaline within his veins.

"What? With him?" Kathleen asked, pointing at Jukka. His heart crept an inch into his mouth, contemplating what answer may come next. "I think you're cultivating the wrong impression." And thus Jukka's built up heart dropped until he could only feel its beat in the tips of his shoe confined toes. He snorted, smirking slightly, to - albeit nervously - dispel any suspicion that he had been hopping at all for a different answer. But there was not much that he could have expected in any case.

His discomfort abounded after the episode, and thus he washed his mind away in the scenarios that could have been should her answer have been different, and missed the majority of the remaining conversation. Yet he still saw the cattish flash Kathleen took in her eyes at something Emris had said. There was need within him, now, to interject into their dealings. To make his presence reestablished, as it were, and break the line of questioning that had led to such an expression. "So I went into the town tonight," His booming voice filled the cottage and rose to the vaulted ceilings, "to drink my belly full of mead. Now that has been put off and taken over at some point with peril. But now all is clear, and I've gone hours" he emphasized, as it was exceedingly unnatural for him not to have a constant object of devouration on hand, "without eating anything. Now there are guests in my house, and I'm certain that I am not the only one feeling this. I've a good deal of meat in the salt box out back, but if I may call attention to the fact that we have a live damn boar bigger than the two of you put together placidly seated just outside the door. I'll leave the choice to my guests, but I certainly would like a choice to be made. Also, my elven friend, it certainly would be courteous of you to help me, and leave our lady to relax after a stressful evening."

[Jack Rinner]

Emris leaned back in his chair slightly, loosening the slight tension in the room. He could feel the both of them staring him down, looking at every inch of him, judging him. How exactly he was unsure as the woman suddenly seemed very interested in him as soon as he said the "magic words" (pun intended) and the much larger pair of eyes beside him seemed to look more hungry if anything else. Emris remained perfectly calm about all of this as it was not uncommon. He WAS a dark elf, and dark elves do have a history doing treacherous and hurtful things purely out of greed. Emris knew this and learned to use this in his favor sometimes. Often using stereotypes and ambigious threats to fend off would be attackers. It was one of his favorite tricks actually, But this time around figured he would be straightforward and let them know what kind of mer he truly is. "Although I do have some knowledge of the Arcane, this does not mean I'm in favor of killing and murdering to get what I want. If anything, I dislike unnecessary death, I have only killed three others in my lifetime, one of those was accidental." Emris said towards Katherine. Assuming the deep stare coupled with the obvious clockworks going around in her brain was devising a plan to hire him in some way. (If these two are not together and the way he shrugged off the notion of them being a couple could most likely mean they are together on business.) He thought. "I can help in other ways and I did not say I won't defend myself or others who need. All I am saying is I try to avoid needless killing." Emris stated with a smile

Emris then turned his attention towards Jukka who previously stated on how he wished to make a salty pork roast out of his Bacon companion. Emris just stared at Jukka with a frown on his face. "You would do that to Bacon? He saved your life and you would throw him in a pot?" Emris asked Jukka. "I understand that you are hungry and I'm thankfull for considering me your guest, but could you possibly reconsider? There is a small stream nearby with plenty of spawning trout, and it just so happens I am quite a good fisherman... what do you say?" Emris smiled and looked warily at Bacon. It has been quite some time since he has eaten as well, and using magic really does create one hell of an appetite. Emris started to stare at Bacon, reconsidering his offer of fish. Imagining the giant slab of pork with some fresh chicken eggs and a wedge of cheddar, perhaps all together on a large loaf of bread. He needed to snap out of it so he got out of his seat and gestured towards the small nearby stream on the eastern treeline, opposite way from which the villagers came by. "Its not very far at all, and I'll gladly help in preperation." He said. Giving off a friendly smile towards Katherine. "And I promise that if we can't catch anything, you can eat the large, hairy one.... or the boar, your choice." Emris said playfully.

He dare not say it but Emris was actually enjoying himself in their company. Almost forgetting about his broken staff. Since his not-so-secret about his arcane knowledge, he decided to scrape a clump of clay off his boot and apply it to the broken end of his staff, the he took the foot long part that was broken off and stuck it together with the muddy clay. Holding his hand over it for about a minute, he slowly watched as the two ends slowly fused with eachother through the clay, twisting and writhing around until properly fused using the clay to fill in the areas missing material. It looked crude, but tough enough. It would have turned out better if he had time and proper materials to fix, but beggers can't be choosers. He had his staff back, and he was happy.

[Rapidfire]

Jukka's House

Kathleen rolled her eyes playfully at Emris's jest. Having lived almost exclusively among humans her whole life, she had little preconception of dark elves as untrustworthy beings, and nothing about Emris's demeanor suggested he was individually untrustworthy. Her eyes turned to Jukka, whose interjection, seemingly apropos of nothing, sounded to her like he was desperate to be the center of attention again.

"Well, I'm not one to support eating pets. I am partial to our new friend's idea of having fish. If it's not too much trouble, you boys can run along and leave this poor wilting flower of a woman to wait daintily."

She batted her eyelashes at Jukka, pouring on the deadpan cynicism. She would have gone with them. Since Jukka had made a move in assuming she needed rest, as if lifting her hands would utterly exhaust her, she felt a primal compulsion to mock the notion. Her cattish smile played upon her lips.

Tara

Rudolf watched Aramaeus ascend the stairs and was satisfied. He trotted in the opposite direction and pulled aside a halberdier.

"The gladiator: he's been secured?"

"My Lord, yes, he has," answered the halberdier.

"Magnificent," Rudolf said, waving the soldier away condescendingly. He hurried upstairs and into a side room, where he found Roger fastening a cloak around him.

"Don't you look regal?" the count remarked. "You wash up better than I'd expect for a common soldier."

Roger was now fully decked out in royal attire. He shot a look down at Rudolf, who was collecting Roger's old clothes and sword. "Remember, chief: this plan rides on me playing my part. Someone in this room couldn't do it since he's too damn short and no amount of magic could conceal that."

Rudolf's head swiftly craned over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing into vicious slits radiating pure venom. The short count stalked up to Roger like a wraith and hissed, "Your complicity may not outweigh your ability to irritate one day. Remember that."

There was a third party standing apart from Roger and Rudolf: the court magician, who interrupted, "Sorry to cut into your alone time, boys, but can we do this later? The longer we wait, the more anxious we're all getting."

Rudolf went to the door. "I'll have the proper pieces where they belong on the board. You just remember what you're supposed to do."

"Smile and wave. This whole being a king business doesn't take nearly as much effort as your preppy lot makes it seem," Roger answered with a cheeky grin.

Rudolf shook his head and closed the door behind him. He threw Roger's clothes in a side closet, keeping the commandant's sword at his side, and walked off wordlessly.
***
Zenithian stood silent. Kendrick was a veteran of games like this. It was difficult to see what his aim was, for the Inquisition's file on Kendrick made it perfectly plain that he made every move deliberately. The inquisitor remained calm, determined not to let Kendrick dominate the field.

"I have no questions that His Majesty would want to hail all lords under him to celebrate his good health," the inquisitor said cautiously. Even that made him suspicious. What little there was to be said about the king in the Inquisition's files did not suggest he was a man prone to largesse on this scale. A thought occurred to him that allowed him to attempt teasing more information from Kendrick.

"Nonetheless," Zenithian continued, "I am mindful that His Majesty has yet to put in an appearance at tonight's festivities; surely an odd thing, considering the nature of the celebration."

"I'm certain that he will greet his subjects in due time. I am not privy to when he will, but that's for His Majesty to decide."

Kendrick's face remained neutral in his reply. His eyes practically dared Zenithian to make any unfounded assertion.