@ThinslayerWhat this? Ha! This is definitely not a proposal ring Noire. It came with some supplies that sadron gave the group, everyone has one. I guess you could call it our signet ring. Marriage? What was Noire thinking? They had only been in town for a day.

I guess it couldn't hurt to take you along. She must be around town somewhere. But so help me if you say anything stupid or embarrassing! Ivan didn't even want to know what Noire could do to embarrass him, best not to think about.

@ThinslayerWhat this? Ha! This is definitely not a proposal ring Noire. It came with some supplies that sadron gave the group, everyone has one. I guess you could call it our signet ring. Marriage? What was Noire thinking? They had only been in town for a day.

I guess it couldn't hurt to take you along. She must be around town somewhere. But so help me if you say anything stupid or embarrassing! Ivan didn't even want to know what Noire could do to embarrass him, best not to think about.

The ring gave Ivan a little zap. She apparently didn't like him lying.

Noire laughed him off. "Ha ha ha! Don't worry, bud! I won't embarrass you or anything. Cross my heart, hope to die. Please take me along?"

Ivan shook his hand, why the heck did the ring zap him like that? Was it something he said? In any case, Ivan lead Noire outside to look for Zenovia. Town's not too big... She should be around here somewhere. Just look for a shy elf with a staff.

@Cuccoruler

"I do" The Storyteller replied. He knew this story just as well as any other in his book. "As it turned out, the hired help your people found had plans of his own" The Storyteller continued "Plans that would go much smoother if they had a trick like you up their sleeve. So the Warlock cursed you under the pretense of having you suffer for the sins of your family. That was far from the truth, but by the time that was realized, it was already too late. In your insatiable hunger, you had consumed those nearest and dearest to you, completing your transformation into what you are now: A Devourer. After that, the Warlock set you on the townsfolk that had hired him in the 1st place to increase your power in order to suit their needs. Needs such as eliminating threats to their power, be they a rival, a hero, a pesky rebel army, or anything else that could get in the way. In all instances of this story, the Devourer turns on their master once they become powerful enough to break their master's hold on them. From there, the Devourer will then either killed by their master, kill their master only to be killed by someone else or by themselves or to simply disappear, or kill their master and partake in an obscure ritual in a desperate attempt to attempt to rid themselves of the curse. From what I've heard about it, the results of that ritual are rather slimy to say the least".

As Tiberius sprinted off, Kaite clicked a few clawed fingertips against the chin-region of her helmet in thought. After a moment, she looked over at Gorman who seemed a bit wounded over the exchange with her associate. Sighing, she gave him a gruff slug to the shoulder before saying, "Ah don't think about it. Noble knightly types; th'armor does nothin' for their pride" with a dismissing chuckle. Her composure rubber-banded back to as it had been before Tiberius had arrived.
"Now..." Kaite began, hands on her hips as she looked up and down the streets. She was a more opportunistic hunter, and tracking wasn't one of her strong suits. After a moment, she looked back the way Tiberius had come from. "...yeah, why not check out the scene?" she suggested, starting off in the direction she supposed it was, having not heard the screams.

Getting tied up in civil quandaries wasn't her intention as she had been keen on leaving, though Sir Knight Tiberius's appearance reminded her of her obligations as a soul that wore steel. Kaite hated it, feeling like she was being pulled apart while slowly wandering down the street and into the alleyway, simply hoping she'd run into something of relevance.

Vert soon found herself bound to a chair on the Council Hill with her hands and maw tied up. Sadron was less than enthusiastic about having to deal with a girl-shaped monster, and Arandur even less so. They both studied her like she was an alien. She was, in a way. They kept her tied there until the next morning, when Xen had ordered everyone to reassemble.

Once everyone was present, Arandur released Vert from the chair without releasing her hands or maw. Sadron looked at Xen and gestured to the girl. "I'll leave the decision to you, commander. What would you like to do with the prisoner?"

Vert stood up from the fair and then looked towards the others as they approached. "I don't want to die. I can tell you that." Vert said her hair ragged and a bit knotted in places. She wasn't used to having her maw forcibly being revealed and tied up. It was uncomfortable to say the least. "You heard the story from the Storyteller of my past. I never had a choice in becoming what I am now. I never wanted to be a Devourer, who in their right mind wants to eat their own family?" Vert asked pleading her case.

"Help me break free of this curse, I can help you find the Warlock, I know where he is and how to get there with the minimum amount of resistance." Vert again pleaded. Sure she could lead them there without having the curse lifted, but it would be harder for her to control her urges then. "And as the story teller said, the only way to break this curse is to rid me of my body. This curse was put on so deep that it changed my very body, not something one can come back from. So I ask of you. Turn my into a slime, not only will I help you find the Warlock. I will also aid you in battle." Vert said as she looked at them through her ragged hair.

---

Xen paced slowly back and forth in front of Vert, leering at the woman. He had no love for her and cared very little for her tragic story. He was not in the business of taking pity, but her knowledge of the Warlock's camps and movements could prove invaluable. He could always torture the information out of her but he found that anyone under such duress will say anything for the torment to end. Of course, taking the woman with them could prove hazardous as well.

"You betray your master so easily. If you believed us capable of breaking the curse, why not simply ask for our aid? Instead, you murdered a family. Butchered them in front of that boy. Tragic past or not, you are an abomination." Xen leaned ever close, emphasizing the last word. He sighed as he pulled back, however, looking at the rest of the group. "The information this one provides could prove useful. Should you wish to break this curse, I leave it in the decision of the group. In front of you, you have two stones. One black and one white." Xen moved towards the end of the row, a golden bowl laid there with an inlaid top, a small hole the only entry point at the top.

"Make your decision and place the stone inside." He gestured to the bowl, running his hand across it. "White for mercy. Black for execution." Xen's opposite hand moved smoothly over the top of it, and any keen observer would see he was palming something in it. After it passed over the hole, his hand relaxed, revealing nothing within it. He went to stand by Sadron and awaited the decision. Democracy, after all.

---

After the conflict with the Devourer, Zenovia felt exhausted. Controlling the spirits forcefully was never a good idea, especially when one hasn't trained their inner energies properly for some time. She had retired to the inn that night, almost instantly falling asleep on the soft bed that was provided. However, the young elf woke up in shock after having a nightmare. A nightmare about being eaten by the Devourer. She was drenched in cold sweat, tears rolling down her face. Her mind had only just wrapped itself around the fact that she was almost killed. Almost killed before she had even begun her journey.

She couldn't sleep for the rest of that night, thus she chose to clean herself up and hone her energies instead. She needed to become more in tune with the world. She was beginning to realise that she daydreamed far too much.

---

The next morning, the party had been summoned to the trial of the Devourer. Zenovia couldn't help but feel scared, even though the monster was restrained. Her hands trembled slightly as they held onto her staff. She knew that she shouldn't let something like this get to her so easily, yet here she was, still fearful. 'Some mage I am.' She thought grimly. Despite the fears, she felt pity for the Devourer. Zenovia felt conflicted. She didn't know if she could forgive the girl for attacking her, but she also didn't want to hold onto such grudges forever. 'Never let hatred consume you, else the spirits may reject you.' As her mentor had said many a time when Zenovia had gotten frustrated. Distracted with her thoughts, she failed to see Xen's movements.

Zenovia glanced around, the spirits slowly bobbed around the group, as if they were an audience. The mage's hand hesitated for a moment before picking up a stone. She wasn't sure if she was meant to show anyone or not, but she instinctively kept her choice hidden within her hands. The elf slowly walked towards the bowl, placing her vote. White.

Ivan had to call it quits tonight, it was to late to go searching for Zenovia. So he went back to the inn with Noire, he was still a bit suspicious about Noire and that mysterious figure, but he shook it from his mind, right now he needed to rest for tomorrow.

---

The next morning was a confusing one to say the least. Maybe Ivan should've followed after Tiberius because apparently he missed all the action, Darn it all! This girl in front of the group, this Devourer, Ivan couldn't say he ever saw something like this and it being some kind of curse, he shook at the thought of it. White for mercy, Black for death huh? Hmm... In the corner of Ivan's eye he could see Zenovia make her choice, she seemed very fearful of this creature before her, so it would make sense if she chose death. Although... Zenovia seemed better than that and whatever happened yesterday night she didn't seem to want to hold any hate towards the Devourer.

When she sat back down after making her choice Ivan put a hand on her shoulder. Hey... I'm sorry I couldn't help ya yesterday. I was... Kinda doing my own thing... Just... Don't be afraid right now, this Devourer is of no threat to you anymore. Ivan tried his best to cheer her up and then went to make his choice. Life... Or death... He could remember his family making decisions like this with fugitives, criminals, and the like.

This Devourer... This girl... Seemed willing to turn her back on the Warlock and join the group's cause, plus no one wants to live with a curse like hers. Ivan dropped a white stone in the bowl, call him crazy if you like, he knew who to trust and who not to trust.

His body felt like it was held in place by daggers. Even then, he could manage to move, despite the short stabbing pains that shot across his wounds as his muscles shifted uncomfortably. Ventus glared at the small Orc that spoke to him, still taking a moment to catch his bearings. On instinct alone, he reached for his ebony blade, but could not find it attached to his holster. Most of his leather armor was removed as well. He lay there nearly naked, with bandages covering the lengths of his wounds. Did this little orc speak truth? Ventus deigned to ask who his saviors were, but memories of those wretched beasts slashing at him while he moved around clumsily in his pride-struck stupor were fresh in his mind. He took momentary solace in the fact that the warband's leader was struck down, but it didn't do anything to satisfy the painful thirst that scratched at his tongue. The orc assassin narrowed his eyes and saw his savior in a new light, looking the little orc over with deadly intent. The blood would help him heal. The thirst would stop. Suddenly, the only thing on his mind was leaping towards his tiny Orc savior and tearing out his jugular with his own sharpened claws. But a thought snapped him out of it, where was he? Who was this? Just how was this Orc so small?

"Where am I, child-" He blurted, almost incoherently, followed by a string of light, dry coughs, "Who.. Who-" Ventus began to lose consciousness, but managed to keep a sliver of his sanity from slipping away. The thirst clawed at what little reasoning he had left, but what could be gained from feeding on this little orc, right now? Surely, he was surrounded. Even if his wounds would heal, and his stamina could return, it would just be prolonging the inevitable.

@tex
The short orc peeked out of the tent and yelled. A minute later, someone else pushed open the tent flap and stepped inside.

It was a humanoid female. She was tall, easily six feet, and wore a set of form-fitting steel armor with a helmet and hood that masked her facial features. Her proportions were neither orc nor human, and she seemed too well-built to be an elf. She carried herself like a noblewomen, though the way she measured her movements spoke of a trained warrior.

Yet, when she knelt beside him and lifted a waterskin to his lips, he found only gentleness.

"Welcome to my camp," she said simply, and offered him a strip of dried meat.

Using his magic, The Storyteller destroyed the black stone and sent the white stone flying through the air and into the bowl while simultaneously writing down some additions to his storybook. The Devourer's story was a tale that could already be found in his book. Vert's story on the other hand was nowhere to be found. This was something The Storyteller planned on correcting, especially since he noticed that 1 of their number was missing and he needed a replacement subplot to fill up those pages.

@Thinslayer@rush99999@Cuccoruler@Hawlin@Darkmoon Angel@Lord Zee@XenoCyanide
Laina decided to get some sleep after all the action that had happened and headed back to her room, settling down on her bed. Her fingers reached out towards a framed picture of a family, smiling at the camera with the least care in the world and she lifted it so it faced the bed. Her pale fingers ran over the shiny glass and she sighed, giving a small sad smile before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

---

The next morning Laina stood over two stones, one black, one white, both leading to a fate for this poor girl. She gently caressed the stones and looked deep into the girl's eyes. She could feel the pleading radiating off of her. She wanted to live. Laina closed her fingers over the white stone, said softly "Mercy"and placed the stone into the bowl, sending a fleeting but warm glance over to the girl and backing up.

---

As Zenovia went to sit back down, a voice suddenly spoke to her, causing her to flinch in surprise, she recovered from the shock quickly though. Her gaze fell upon a man who spoke to her. She recognised him from yesterday's meeting, however she couldn't remember his name. "I-it's alright. I wasn't alone.." She began in a hushed voice. She didn't want to disturb the overall atmosphere of the event with her voice.
"I apologise, but I don't know your name. Mine is Zenovia Almire, the party's 'mage'" She said, bowing her head a little in greeting. This man was one of their party, yet his name escaped her. Granted she didn't really talk to anyone until last night. She only knew people's names via acknowledgement by others.

He found them, eventually. After searching and searching, he stumbled upon the other party members who had already caught the fiend. Tiberius was shocked to see that it was the girl whom he had left behind because she had looked innocent. He was a fool, but said nothing to the others about it. However, he did look to Kaite and Gorman, simply saying, "Forgive me, for wasting your time." It looked like they would keep the creature until the morning for a proper judgment. Angry with himself, Tiberius stumbled off into the darkness of the town. He eventually found himself at the same willow tree that he had been at in the morning. The Knight looked at the stars and their twinkling display, and realized it was going to be a long night.

---

In the morning, Tiberius arrived at the gathering place with the others. It seemed the monster's fate would be decided by the party. If it was his choice, he would have taken his blade and chopped off her neck. No creature, no matter what it promises after committing atrocities, should ever be trusted. He had learned that the hard way, when he first started out. He shivered at the thought of letting this 'girl' join them on a quest that would determine the future of the world. There was too many variables, too many factors and keeping the well being of the party was now his task.

It didn't surprise him when the others dropped their white stones into the bowl. He sighed visibly, if they got their way it would just make his task even better. Not only would he have to protect them from outside forces but within as well.

He looked at the monster and spoke with sarcastic hostility, "Did the family you murdered want to die? Do you think the orphaned boy wanted his parents to die? From my perspective, I don't think they wanted to die, I can tell you that."

Tiberius then dropped the black stone within the bowl and waited to see what would happen.

Ivan chuckled at Zenovia's need to apologize. It's ok, it's my own fault for surprising you like that, Sir Ivan Stormwall, the group's 2nd brawler at your service. Ivan did a similar bow that Zenovia did. But we're all friends here, please just call me Ivan he added with a smile.

Again, I'm very sorry I couldn't have been there to help the encounter with that Devourer, that girl. If you don't mind me asking... What even happened yesterday? Ivan did want to know what he was getting himself into, he had already made up his mind to grant mercy to the girl, but he needed to know what she was capable of at least.

Ventus snatched the water skin from the woman's grasp as quickly as he could and drank until he could handle no more. As he'd expected, the water did little to quench his thirst, but it was a pleasant distraction. He did not suspect poison or foul play, not after being rescued from a humiliating defeat, but still refused the offering of food from his apparent ally with a gentle wave of his hand.

"Who are you, and where have you taken me?" Ventus grunted, dropping the water skin to the floor. "Where is this camp?" Speaking helped, having anything to set his mind to did wonders for him. But how long could he go on like this?

Kaite emerged from the alleyways shortly after Tiberius, the group having already converged on a woman and bound her. She didn't ask any questions, trusting their intuition. Behind her visor, she frowned as she looked down at the woman and then to her comrades before Tiberius spoke. Replying with a wave of her hand, she softly sighed, "I guess big things come in spall packages, ah?" with a tinge of disappointment in her voice before taking her leave.

She was glad that the party managed to have enough self-sufficiency to so quickly handle the situation, though most of the details escaped the knight who knew only of the deeds done.
To this end, Kaite had no clue why she was expected to be involved in deciding the creature's fate, looking between the colored stones in her hand. The answer seemed obvious as it was only fair for the guilty to pay the price. However, she would be a hypocrite to cast such a vote either way.

Xen's words painted the monster in a woman's body as an asset to the extent of hunting down the warlock and routing their forces. As valuable as such information appeared to be, the grain of salt came with the understanding that the creature was turning traitor after being caught. Bound and gagged after the murder of a family, Tiberius's musings before casting his vote explaining everything Kaite needed to know.
Kaite was confident that wandering blind would be safer than trusting such a creature not to lead them astray. Though she saw much of herself in the monster, Kaite knew who she was and the limits of her darkness. If the creature was truly remorseful, if the creature truly sought help for an end to their supposed curse, then they wouldn't have been in this situation...who knew how many other bodies paved the path they followed to reach this point; the most recent ones were how they were finally caught.

She found slight solace in dropping the black stone into the bowl. Kaite may have seen herself as a monster, but she was no animal. "Simply having good intentions does not a good monster, make" she softly said with a shake of her head as she stepped away, the entire situation leaving a bad taste in her mouth and wishing to be done with it.

Ventus snatched the water skin from the woman's grasp as quickly as he could and drank until he could handle no more. As he'd expected, the water did little to quench his thirst, but it was a pleasant distraction. He did not suspect poison or foul play, not after being rescued from a humiliating defeat, but still refused the offering of food from his apparent ally with a gentle wave of his hand.

"Who are you, and where have you taken me?" Ventus grunted, dropping the water skin to the floor. "Where is this camp?" Speaking helped, having anything to set his mind to did wonders for him. But how long could he go on like this?

The Captain dipped her head. She understood the orc's concern; he had no idea why he was attacked or how he survived. For all he knew, the attackers had captured him. He had no way of confirming that the present company meant him no harm.

"I am the Captain of Vain's Victors. We took you to our camp to heal you. You are free to leave at any time. But, pardon my asking, what on this good earth are you doing travelling alone through central Fellmore? The whole country is a veritable death trap to anything that's not in an army. Don't you have a mercenary band to travel with?"