Starting Date and Time: 25th Day of Mauven, 300 DM, Midday

Starting Location: South of Green Fall

CS URLs: Lyriia “Lii” Elenye & Gregory Whitehorn & Verissa Beatrix Greenlakes aka Trix & Saierun & Alya Eloen



Trix hummed lightly to herself, sitting atop her table on the edge of the Grand Melee, awaiting for it to start. This was always a favorite event of hers to watch. Roughly fifty men and women of all varieties of species fighting with heavily weighted wooden weapons, all for a chance to become a Knight. The Knights did a great job protecting the realm, and the more they prospered, the more everyone's lives improved. And this was great for her business. The Knights paid for each treatment she dispensed, so long as she provided the proper paperwork. They did love their paperwork. And she wasn't the only one here, there were medics from all over. She'd spent the entire morning trading various herbal recipes and techniques, between treating those injured in the initial competitions.

It was a bit disconcerting that most of the proper Knights had left for Scream Watch. But that was their duty. At the very least, a bunch of squires were left behind. Trix kicked her legs, swishing her long skirt playfully, as the horn sounded, indicating the beginning of the Grand Melee. The participants began fighting fiercely, the sound of wood striking wood and flesh thudding over the arena, cheers and jeers as favorites fell. As the group was thinned down to roughly fifteen people, a man broke out from the stands.

He was covered in a dark, hooded cloak, and he hopped over the barricade, running for the center of the arena. Most of the combatants were too busy to notice him, but the crowd grew curious and interested. Squires began scrambling to get into the arena to stop him from whatever interruption he was planning. The man ripped off his cloak, revealing his tattooed body, markings of crimson vines, threw his arms above his head, and let out a blood curdling scream that everyone know. It was a Screamer War Cry, what they were given their name from.

Several feet above his raised hands, it looked as if there was a small crack in the air, and a rushing of wind was felt by all those near the man. The squires all stopped in their tracks, as the crack widened. Those able to see it could make out a fiery, volcanic world in as high of a detail as if it existed right there in the arena. It opened quite wide, as several reptilian roars rang out from within.

A single participant, a large ogre with a massive club lumbered up to the Screamer, and swung his club down. Normally it would've crushed any unsuspecting person, but the club stopped about a foot from the man's head and shattered into splinters, blinding the ogre, who fell away, bellowing in pain. The reptilian roars grew louder, until finally a single head popped into view, looking at those in the bleachers. It screeched in triumph and called out behind, when it's second head came into view. It leapt through the opening in the air and landed heavily on the arena dirt.

The creature was not something anyone had ever seen before, not even the most seasoned of hunters. It was twice as tall as a warhorse, and three abroad. It was muscle bound, covered in protective bony plates, with row upon row of viciously curved teeth. It roared once more, and charged the nearest stand, ripping through the first line of squires with relative ease, mostly due to the shock and surprise of its arrival. It dove into the stands, clamping down on a single man, and ripping him in half. It then began rampaging around, attacking at the nearest moving people.

It was then that the screams and panic full set in. People scrambled over each other, leaving friends behind to die. The few knights that remained behind to judge the combatants were already moving toward the creature, weapons drawn, spreading out to surround it. They gave out commands to the squires to get people out of the area and protect them. Trix was already off her table, moving toward the carnage, bag of supplies at her hip, ready to start treating and triaging, looking around for the other medics. The creature had several people trapped at the top of the stands, leaving a wake of injured and dead behind it.

Trix came up to the first injured she found, a squire with a massive gash through his plate and chainmail at the gut. He would be dead anytime now. She held his hand, looking down at his eyes, waiting for him to pass. No one should die alone.

As the crowds gather for the Grand Melee, Alya has seated herself on a stump which was situated in the middle of the wide grassy path, which was surrounded by the many stalls that shopkeepers had constructed in order to service the large crowd. The stump wasn't interrupting the flow of patrons, so it was the ideal position for a Bard such as herself. Some of the people in the crowd greeted Alya as they walked past, since they were also from Green Fall. Travelers who had passed through Green Fall also knew of Alya, or rather her nickname 'Echo'. As the stalls bustled with activity, artisans, hawkers, grocers alike, all calling out to potential customers. Through this noise, the sound of Alya's flute resonated, seemingly piercing through the noise pollution. The joy in her heart resonated with her music as she felt the cheerful atmosphere of the festival envelope her. People who had been drawn to Alya due to her magic and music tossed copper and silver coins into the little cloth bag that sat at her feet. Unexpected, but very much welcomed.

Echo, her somewhat newly acquired Dire wolf pup has also been reveling in the appearance of new prey. The meat stall. However, his appetite was sated as the butcher kindly offered him a sizable piece of meat. Satisfied with his meal, he decided to take a nap on the lap of his Wolf Mother. Despite his growth, he was still a pup, so lap naps were a common occurrence after a meal. However, this caused some minor disturbances among the crowd as it was unusual to see a dire wolf pup separated from it's parents and forest home, but since it wasn't causing a fuss, it didn't present any problem.

Things seemed to be going smoothly, if not for the blood curdling scream that echoed throughout the festival. Due to her more sensitive hearing, the scream felt like she was within the arena. The pitch and volume forcibly tore her away from her music, her magic, which she didn't know of until this moment, felt like it snapped. The flute fell from her hands and her body started to tremble. Her shaking hands slowly covered her ears, her eyes staring at the grass in front of her. It was as if the sound echoed within her mind, shrill and unrelenting. Naturally, Echo noticed his Mother's distress, waking up almost immediately. It let out a loud YIP sound, which startled Alya enough to snap her out of her 'minor' mental breakdown. She wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes and hugged Echo, calming herself.

More screams filled the air, but these weren't as terrifying as before. Alya couldn't even begin to imagine what was happening, but panicked people had started to rush out of the arena, the stream of people seemed to run around the stump that Alya sat on, and she had no intention on moving.

This had been a mistake. While there was work to be done, orders to be completed, and pieces to be polished off, of all the things Kenneth would do was to ask to go watch the Grand Melee. The first response Gregory made was just a look, expecting Kenneth to have known better. And yet in a short few minutes later, he had asked again. And again. And yet again. For days before the event, did the boy test the Gargoyle's patience and on the day before the event itself, his efforts were redoubled. Finally, earning the well deserved ire of the annoyed Gargoyle, Kenneth won at last. Gregory had decided if the boy would be so adamant about going, he would never let Gregory have a moment of peace should they miss the event. Which is why Gregory and Kenneth were there to begin with.

He had never attended many of these. One perhaps decades ago to serve as a weapons inspector, to ensure the wooden weapons were similar to their metal counterparts, yet retained a margin of safety which a good healer can resolve with relative ease. Today however, it appeared Kenneth was set on making Gregory a spectator. As they sifted through the market stalls, Kenneth all too enthusiastic about the bag of Ms. Lovett's Pies he had goaded Gregory to purchase for them. And by for them, of course he knew Kenneth would end up eating the whole bag. This was a carnival day for the boy, with sights, sounds and smells to behold. He was certain the boy had tried flirting with Ms. Lovett as he took a rather long time getting about those pies. A shapely woman with good birthing hips, but far too attractive for someone as crude as Kenneth. And stepping in with his claws grabbed around the back of Kenneth's tunic collar, he gave the blushing Ms. Lovett a look before dragging the protesting boy away. "Lemme Go! Come on, lemme go already! Master Gregory!" and Gregory complied once out of earshot. "I know you think she's out of my league Sir, but what I'd love to do to her, a boy can dream right?" How juvenile.

Some time passed an the fifty had been culled to fifteen. Kenneth was screaming at the top of his lungs, mouth filled with meat pie at times, The event had been rather boring for Gregory, who was flooded with more special orders, as he tells Kenneth from dealing with the Vines. The less the boy knew the better. That was when the stranger, a man who ripped off his cloak, to which Kenneth had probably expected a streaker, but those Crimson Vines told Gregory the man had no intention of running around the grounds with his privates out for the audience. And everyone else caught up with the war cry. And to make matters worse, it seemed as if this man also had some hooby-joobery magic not unlike Keelie. The giant fire lizard busy chomping down on the fighters and making the arena run amok was another indicator for Gregory to have just stayed at home today.

"Kenneth, chain." The Creature summoned forth by the Vine was certainly impressive. Although those bony plates it had may make some wonderful pommel material, or shield inlays, maybe something could be done with those teeth. Sure it wasn't metal, but material was still material, and a strange beast like this would offer a chance to work with new forging techniques. Time to walk the dog.

Lyriia loved shopping. Dresses (Even if they were only doll clothes for human children’s little wooden dolls) and herbs and jewelry. Lovely sparkly, impractical things.

She always kept an eye on the arena, noting that the Grand Melee that had just started. She supposed she ought to be over there; after all, Gaeven had won a spot in the Melee, and Kintaer had been close, finishing about 20th overall, despite his crippled wing. The only damper on her spirits was that Lyellan wasn’t here; his new master probably had him off running some hare-brained scheme.

The thought of her twin was an ache in her heart. She forced it out of her mind and focused. Herbs. She wanted to buy herbs. Right.

A scream from the Grand Melee; she flew over to the arena in a panic, craning her neck to see her brothers. No sign of either of them. Nor of Kierie.
She went to fly up to look for them, but was stopped by a hand closing firmly around her. “Not so fast, Lyriia. Your first duty is to the people.” Master Longarm muttered, releasing her.

And so she flew over the crowd, stopping by a young child who had gotten lacerated by… something, and started tending the wound. She didn’t dare use her magic on it. Not now, not with so many people around.

As she cuddled Echo, she could feel herself calm down despite the ongoing commotion. Cries filled the air. The panic spreading. Alya's mind calmed despite the negativity, her mental fortitude becoming that of iron. Music couldn't solve anything in this situation. Thus she decided to use the skills that she had learnt from Lyle, to help those who had been injured and she could see that many were. She hastily grabbed her leather bag and flute from the base of the stump on which she sat. She stood up and walked against the panicked crowd. She saw some people sitting down with their backs leaning against the abandoned stalls, their wounds fresh with blood.

She ran over to one of them, but she was greeted by an oncoming crowd of bodies. After some struggles she managed to reach the wounded man. He looked at her in surprise as she hurriedly brought out a leather skin, some rags and her needle and thread. Alya calmly cleaned the man's wounds with the honey and lavender liquid in the skin before stitching it carefully. When she had finished tending to the man's wounds, she gave him a warm smile. Before he could thank her, she had already made her way to another wounded person.

In the back of her mind, all she could think about was the magic that she had felt before, a magic that was most certainly linked to her music. When all of this was over, she was definitely going to search for that feeling again.

As the man passed, Trix thought she could feel his soul leave his body. There would be time for tears later, for Trix's gaze was drawn to a slew of wounded and dead left behind the monster. The healthy had managed to escape, with the exception of those still trapped in the upper corner of the stands. Trix moved forward, seeing other medics and doctors do the same around her. The Warden Knights that had served as judges were giving out commands to the squires, mainly moving the wounded out of the area. But they were doing so haphazardly. Trix rushed up to a small group of squires that were carrying a man with a minor contusion on his head, and a woman whose arm was missing from below the elbow.

"Stop, move the man over there by the food stands, he'll be fine. Leave the woman here, she doesn't have time to be moved." The squires looked at her incredulously, and a Warden Knight moved over to scold the disrespectful civilian. But he was stopped by a massive, clawed paw. "Do as the healer says. Her mind is clear."

The Warden was shocked at the order, but obeyed, "Yes Lord Knight Svarak."

Trix took that as permission to continue, "Those without life threatening injuries, move over there and keep them protected. Those that seem to be dying, leave here." The squires nodded and the Wardens moved away to begin relaying the ordered to others. Lord Knight Svarak, however, moved toward the creature in the stands calmly. The massive lion like Charr had a very imposing presence, in his Ebonsteel armor, trimmed gold, especially with the foreign, crystalline great sword strapped to his back. Everyone knew him. Lord Knight of the Citadel, one of the five rulers of the Ebon Knights, and thus, Ebonfort. And Lord Knights were not cushion positions, they were the fiercest, smartest, strongest fighters in the empire.

When he reached the bottom of the stands, he let loose feral roar, startling many in the near vicinity. He had challenged the creature to one on one combat and he knew it would understand that. The creature turned at the challenging roar, its tail swiping a few of the trapped patrons over the stand, not caring as they fell many feet onto the soft grass. Its yellow eyes glared warily at the challenger. It could feel the ominous aura of strength this new opponent provided, he was not like these... weaklings. This was a real threat. It slowly stalked side to side on the stand, never taking its gaze off the unarmed Charr, sizing it up.

Lord Knight Svarak grinned as he watched his prey continue to walk back and forth cautiously, waiting for his moment. CRACK! One of the wooden seats snapped, and for the briefest of moments the creature was distracted. Svarak leapt forward, using the stands to propel him forward as he ran on all four limbs. When he closed the gap, the monster's attention returned, but Svarak was already around to the side. He charged forward, and tackled with his armored shoulder into the creature's mid section. The bony armor held, but the creature was tossed off balance to its right side. It turned quickly to bite down on this attacker, and felt a fist devastate its lower jaw. The Charr didn't want to kill this creature. He wanted it captured, and thus, left his sword undrawn.

Trix ripped a long stretch of cloth from her skirt, and grabbed a sturdy stirring spoon from her kit, normally used to help make salves. The woman was barely conscious, not really even noticing her presence. The arm was missing from about the middle of the bicep. The blood loss would kill her very soon if not quickly handled. She tied the strip of cloth into a loop, and slipped one end under the stub. She then stuck her spoon in the loop above the arm and began twisting it. As it twisted, the loop tightened and tightened, until with a few last squirts, the bleeding stop. She slipped the spoon in the tightened loop, satisfied with the tourniquet.

This would only be a temporary measure. In order to stop infection, she'd need to cut away the excess meat, and cauterize the wound. Standing up, she looked around at the abandoned food stands, seeing a few fires and ovens still burning, left unattended. She rushed toward one, not noticing the fight between the Lord Knight and the monster. If she had, she would have seen the monster's tail swipe through a wooden railing, and noticed the wooden rail flying toward her. When she did, she managed to get her arms up, trying to best defend herself. There was an impact, but not on her arms. It had struck something invisible just inches above them, but the blow was strong enough to knock her arms back into her face and sending her tumbling head over heels. Trix lay there stunned, groaning in pain, trying to raise herself up, not even realizing that she momentarily revealed her magic. There would be time to worry about that later, there were still many people to save.

Lord Svarak had noticed something intriguing about the creature. When he'd struck the creature, it was dazed for a moment, but not just that head, but both. Was that simply from the pain as a whole? Or perhaps, it wasn't two minds, but rather two halves. He had to test this theory. He wanted to know more about this creature before he captured it. It would be quite beneficial. The creature had backed away from him in its pained daze, not retreating, simply recovering. Svarak didn't follow, studying its movements. He noticed subtle glances back to the portal, but no shifting to suggest it wanted to flee. It seemed more concerned about anyone approaching the portal.

Then he knew, the smallest details revealed the most. This creature was protecting something. And what did all creatures protect? Their home and their family. All the more reason to capture and not to kill. These creatures were just unwitting pawns forced into this by the Screamer. He could see the battle unfolding between the squires, and even a couple of civilians, against the smaller creature, probably the male. Female reptiles tended to be bigger in his experience. Well, probably not much he could do there. Well he could, but he'd much rather see how they fought. Squires were fairly predictable in their combat styles, but civilians... they were unpredictable and surprising. Sure, he'd be splitting his focus, but he already knew he'd win.

Svarak sprang forward along the bleachers, feeling the wood bow, not between the weight, but rather the force his powerful legs pushed with against them. The creature's body coiled up, the muscles ready for a strike, spittle dripping from its maws. In the moments leading up to the inevitable collision, Svarak saw the spittle from one burn through the wood, though the other didn't. Interesting, different properties. The gap closed, one head lunged toward his neck, the other to his gut, from opposite sides. So predictable. He growled playfully, and sprang forward between the bites, jumping up. In the air, he twisted, and came down on the creature's body, supporting himself on the bony protrusions. It would feel his weight, but he suspected not exactly where he was.

The heads tried to twist away under his iron grip, his feet supporting himself upon their back. Time to test a few things. He dug his claws deep into the creature's back, between the armor, and both heads snarled in pain. So both heads felt the pain inflected to the body. He let loose of one head, keeping firm control of the other, as the creature tried to buck the assailant off, screaming in pain and rage. He raked his claws over the left head, with the burning spittle. Both heads once again flinched in pain. So they were more like arms rather than completely separate entities.

He still needed to find out what the other head's bite did, but that would be easy in captivity. Time to end this. He had enough information he felt. He leapt off the creature's back, still holding onto the one horn. He dipped below the creature's jaws, and swung his legs around its unarmored neck. He stuck his knee into its windpipe, then tightened the vice, his hands forcing the head upward by its lower jaw. He watched the other head snap towards him, but he kept his body just hairs out of reach, already knowing its range of motion. Then it struggled, then slowed, then slumped to the ground. One head is all you need to beat. Two halves of a coin.

He moved out from under the creature, watching the fight between the bear. He noticed one of the women was missing, and that it was a snow bear. He smiled, a Moon Fey then. Most interesting, he'd not seen one in a long while, and suspected she made that delivery he'd sent out. The woman probably had no idea to what she had really agreed to. Watching as she finished the creature, he hoped she was strong enough for what come soon.

But he'd be there with her. That much he could ensure.

He quickly set about giving orders to chain up the creature and deliver it to the Menagerie. He saw the many people still dying, the wounded, but that wasn't his concern. If they didn't wish to die, they should've been stronger. He started strolling over towards the Moon Fey, considering how to go about leading her to what was likely her doom. Or perhaps her greatest achievement, if she were strong enough.

--

Well done Twhirtley and Rekaigan!



Skill Points
Observation: 4
Medicine: 4
Shield Magic: 3
Herbalism: 2
Leadership: 1
Endurance: 1

Knowledge
Magic: Shields can be broken
Magic: Summoning a shield quickly
Magic: Portals are Real
Healing: No One Should Die Alone
Healing: Triage, the Healer's Curse
Healing: How to use a Tourniquet
Healing: Being strong enough to cry later
Recognized as a competent healer by Lord Knight Svarak

Other
Mild scrapes on face and hands from flying debris, will heal without scarring in 5 days if treated by a Novice+ Healer.
20 silver pieces, gifts from the families of those she treated.
Flora Medicina Tessanis by Scriveriartas, an exhaustive botany text given to her as a gift from the woman who lost her arm but ultimately lived. This tome will take at least two months to read, but once completed will earn the reader a +5 in either Herbalism or Medicine and a +5 in Botany. Further details about the history of this book can be learned during co-GM RP.

CS Notes
N/A

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Skill Points
Music (Flute): 4
Song Weaving: 4
Medicine: 3
Sewing: 2
Animal Husbandry: 1
Endurance: 1

Knowledge
Magic: Songweaving with your Flute
Medicine: Running towards danger to help

Other
Leather skin of Lavender and Honey antiseptic is now empty.
8 silver and 20 copper pieces earned from flute-playing.
4 silver, gifts from those she stitched up.
As one of the men she stitched up was a well-connected butcher from the Ebonfort capital, he has promised free meat for Echo in thanks to Alya for stopping to help him. For the next two months, as long as Alya spends time in an Ebonfort city she will be able to acquire free scrap meat for Echo, which defrays the cost of feeding him during that time.

CS Notes
N/A