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Stormy waters crashed against the cliffs of a city long dead. The calls of seabirds have long since vanished from these shores, replaced by the shouting of dockhands and refugees. What remaines of The Devoured City are empty homes, hollow relics of a time long past. The stone walls that towered over the waters, once a ward against naval attacks, now begin to crumble into the sea despute the efforts of its mew inhabitants to preserve them. Crows are seen overhead, messenger birds carrying correspondence to interested parties. From land you've arrived at Venridge, Window's Hill gives you a full view of what will be your home for the foreseeable future. Pillars of smoke rise from what homes still capable of harboring life. Campfires and tents can be seen throughout the city as well as outside it's walls. A good number of ships can be seen approaching the harbor from offshore, most likely carrying supplies, refugees, and new seekers. There are others around you as well, caravans following the same trail that led you to this resurrected settlement.

Upon arrival at the city's gates you are met by a small group of guards, some armed with spears and others with swords, all however wield weapons that have been poorly maintained. Rusted are their armors and weapons, these men and woman may be warriors but their equipment has been neglected either intentionally or from lack of supplies. From amongst their group, one approaches you with a book along with a quill and ink. His face looks worn and tired, sleep has not visited him in some time. "Sign your name and you're in, if you're one of the new Seekers then head to Ulric's Estate, its the large home on the hill straight ahead once you're through the gates", his hands outstretched to hand you the log, from the gates you could see Ulric's Estate. A large two floor home that was fenced off from the rest of the city. The estate was old and decrepit with portions of the roof collapsed. Candle light threw an orange glow against the broken windows with shadows dashing back and forth. Whatever the house was used for, it was bustling with life.

As for Ulric, the last lord of the city before its demise, he was said to have caused the collapse of most of the city almost thirty years ago. The underground ruines of the city have forever been named "Ulric's Folly", a mockery of his failed mining venture which costed Venridge its existence. The city had been dead for some time, but times were changing and what little semblence of civilization yet remains in this land have become hubs for the desperate. An age of darkness has begun, and it threatens to swallow the world.

Eleanor Jehenne

The dirt path she had been following had given way to cobblestone. The soft padding of horse hoves on dirt slowly transitioned into the recognizable clip-clop of iron horseshoes on carved stone. The road beneath Lance Corporal Eleanor Jehenne had not been maintained for some time. Stubborn weeds grew to life between the spreading cracks between the cobblestone, and towards the edges most pieces had slowly crumbled into chunky gravel.

Color was not in abundance. Overarching was the theme of grey, light blue, and brown. A dreary combination of colors for a dreary time in history. The chilling wind brushes with her hair and her horse's mane; the thinner strands reaching to the left of her. Squinting against she gently reminded her loyal steed Isabel to not follow another dirt path that vanished into the forest. Signs of civilization, old and new, began cropping up. A wooden marker from decades ago had been knocked over, and in white, faded paint read the word 'Venridge'. A few moments later a ragged family unit came into view. Covered up for warmth an older gentlemen, apparant father to two children and husband to a wife who was busy with their young, nodded to her as she passed, recognizing her as a fellow soldier. She returned the nod and picked up the pace, reminded of her mission.

The refugees became more and more common as she closed the distance to The Devoured City. Some were on horseback, though most walked. An unmoving pile of rags lay to the side of the road- as she passed it became clear it was a body. Eleanor grimaced sadly and once again quickened her pace. Her haste quickly came to an end as more and more dirt paths joined the main road; more and more displaced people congregated to one of the only bastions from the ever-swelling evil.

Armed and armored people in mis-matched colors from various nations began to appear as the refugees neared the cities protective influence. The guards beckoned and guided people on their way, attempting to reassure the people of their safety. Some had stopped in clearings to the side of the path, began making fires and camps to wait for whomever or whatever it was they were waiting for. An infant cried.

Eleanor rounded a bend, and Venridge came into view. From her height on a nearby hill she could see the ocean beyond as dozens of ships travelled to and fro the port. Clusters of people closed in on the city and small tent-cities had been hastily constructed in various places near and far away from the city walls. The scale of this event made the young woman's heart sink. Awe-inspiring tragedy. Shaking her head, Lance Corporal Jehenne puffed out her chest and reassured herself and her horse.

"No. We're going to stop this." She said to her horse, Isabel, sounding more certain than she was.

The distance to the newly resettled city closed, and Jehenne was let in swifter than others on account of her mission. The city was crowded, and it was strange. Long abandoned stores had been made into homes, and old homes had been taken over by struggling merchants. A free-for-all of claiming property though the atmosphere was not hostile. There was a general trust in the sharing of misery. She thought she spotted a few more Seekers, like herself. People from all around who walked with more purpose than the survival of their families, equipped with various instruments of war. Lightly armored folk in fine robes, clutching spellbooks and staffs that could help defend the city and the people in it.

Eventually, with the directions of a patrolmen, she found her way to Ulfric's Estate. A group of men and women of various races and professions made their way from the Estate and brushed past her, clearly busy with whatever mission had been assigned to them. She was eager to do her part. She hitched her horse to a make-shift stable that was taking up one of the streets nearby and walked the rest of the distance. The seeker at the door let her in upon seeing her up close and she entered the revived estate. These walls were given much greater purpose than they ever had before, that Jehenne was certain of.

The armored priest was setting about cleaning up the camp he had made over night, covering where the campfire had been and obscuring the fact he had ever been there to begin with. Old habits died hard, Ansgar Staudinger mused, ensuring that it would take a great deal of effort to even uncover someone had been staying in that small, out of the way recess in a sheer cliff face. Not that he was high up or anything, the exact opposite as he had been resting at the base, but he quietly affixed the crimson red shawl about his shoulders. It was the only trademark of his order, and the only requirement in attire, considering some wore little more than cloth while those like him wore plate and mail. Casting the idle thoughts from his mind, he slung his war hammer onto his back, for he still had some ways to go, even if the sun had not risen yet, before he was where he needed to be. The Devoured City, an uninspiring name for what it was being used for, but needs must.

Setting off, Ansgar was quick to return to the main road, thankfully with no other passerbys, the only sound in the land was the falling footsteps, covered in metal and leather as they were, speaking to the spreading darkness that even nature was fleeing it. Cobblestone, poorly maintained, crunched beneath his boot falls, while the salty scent of the air spoke of the coast nearby. The sun hung steadily in the sky, obscured as it was still, casting a dullness on all surroundings beneath it, the chill going unnoticed by the priest as he walked. Soon he found himself walking alongside others, refugees, seekers, and anyone who had reason to visit, seek out, or escape to Venridge. A few recognized him as a priest of sorts, and he agreed to offer blessings, simple as they were, to a handful who sought him out for them. They were brief things, spoken in plain language and earnest heart, sending them on their way with a bit more hope. These days, most folks could use a little more of everything, especially hope.

"Gods above if this isn't already a proper mess. Dead abandoned, living not far behind. Not even properly looted, hmph." Muttering under his breath, and with a half hearted snort, the man kept forging forward, going about his grim work. Ansgar would pause by bodies as he found them, performing brief rites commending their souls to the Gods and the afterlife, sometimes if they had tokens of faith, to their preferred God in question. It was anything but pleasant, but nothing unusual. He had lingered after quite a few battles, tending to the dead and dying of both sides. Unfortunately there was no time for burials, nor did he have the manpower or time for the scale needed here. Taking his time would delay him a bit, but his work demanded such things when he could spare the time, and he would reach the gate guards, if you could call them that, without too much of a loss of pace.

Poor sods wouldn't have been able to scare off a group of bandits, let alone anything of serious threat. Fortunately, there was little of worth out here, at a casual glance, so they wouldn't attract much in the way of armed banditry. Extortion and criminals looking to wring what they could out of the gatherings of refugees, certainly, but no proper bandits yet. But he did scrawl something into the log book offered to him that, if one was generous, vaguely resembled something akin to a name. In one language, at least, so he was admitted with little issue, they weren't interested in debating the man over penmanship. Entering the city, he witnessed the hustle and bustle of the seekers, refugees, and other people going about business and daily tasks. The place had this innate feeling of desperation, some here had nothing left to lose and had come with no other hope left. It was a dangerous kind of hope, one that if it was broken would bring this place to its knees again.

Ansgar would find his way to the estate, the instructions the guards gave were clear enough, and missing even such a ruined building was going to be difficult. He could see, even from outside, the hustle and bustle of everything going on, and it was likely a center for both chosen and self proclaimed Seekers alike to figure out where to go, and what to do next. With no horse to hitch, he would make his way straight for the door, being admitted by the guard once it was confirmed he was here as a seeker. The hustle and bustle of those present told of those who had been here awhile, and the lack of which told of who had just also arrived. One such young woman, plainly armed outside of a shield with humble heraldry, immediately caught his eye for such a reason. She looked of a newcomer, young but had the stance of someone seasoned in fighting. The heraldry finally rang a bell, a fellow of his order had visited a city in the League bearing that crest. Eastern part, Jumme, or something along those lines.

"Soldier of Jumme, if I read that dinner plate's markings right. Least it ain't too far from home, eh lass?" A smirk was on the priest's face when he referred to her shield as a dinner plate, though he lacked a mocking tone that would imply insult. He left his arms at his sides, relaxed as he addressed the young woman he had come across. Who knows how this place worked, he reckoned it was best to figure out who he was dealing with properly, start testing the waters of what to expect out of at least some of those he stumbled across that weren't engaged elsewhere.

Just as the two Seekers had begun to converse, a head peaked out from within the newly occupied home. "I thought I heard someone outside this door, are you new Seekers?", the rest of the man's body came out from behind the door to reveal he was somewhat short compared to Eleanor. His head was balding with grey hairs amongst the black that remained atop his head. A goatee beard had begun to grow out somewhat, most likely due to the state of things here in the city. With prominent ears that flared outwards from his head, one might have mistaken the man for a dwarf at first glance. "Ah but where are my manners. Hello, I am Printh, Scholar Printh. I work with Archivist Hervig in analyzing the knowledge you Seekers bring back to us", there was a nervously excited tone in the scholar's voice as he spoke, his eyes wild as he eyed the two mew arrivals. "Oh forgive me, I forget myself, please come in", Printh pushed open the door before heading inside, bidding his guests to follow.

With haste he began to clear a table as the other scholars hurriedly traversed the home, moving documents to categorized shelves. Once the table was cleared Printh place some chairs around it before bringing forth bread and some dried meat. "Here we are, I do wish I could do better for you but as of now that's the best meal you'll find in Venridge. In fact, I cant remember the last I've had anything other than bread and dried meat...enough of that, tell me, have either of you found anything of note? Sorry, I am beside myself, I never asked your names"

From the blighted forest limped a lone figure, half a dozen torn and muddy cloaks draped across his body, with his face obscured in the oppressive darkness of his hood. Each step was dreadfully slow as it favored one leg over the other, clearly badly sprained from weeks of travel. Yet the figure persisted without fail as step by step the dead city of Venridge came closer. It was here there would be rest.
Food.
Warmth.

Ironically, for a city so close to death, there would be life.

At the gates he was met with armed guards. Their words were lost to the warlock as he felt their lifeforce practically begging him to take it. It would be so simple to reach out his hand and wrap his fingers across this ones throat. To squeeze the air from his lungs as his vitality was siphoned into Jeggred.
His own hand was halfway to the guards throat when his faltering will stopped the intention.

"You must sign in." The guard proceeded, wary now of tricks from the unstable looking figure. Two more guards were inching closer.

"Nnn..." The words hurt. SO long since he had spoken. Dust in his throat where words should be. In a dry raspy tone he croaked out a soft no before trying to push his way through.

Two guards were quick to grab his arms and pull him to the side roughly, tossing him down. Unable to support his own weight in his weakened state Jeggred fell to the ground and lay still as he struggled for breath.

"Take any and all weapons. Set him in irons."

The superior of the three issued his orders, the others were quick to comply. Clearly familiar with brushing down potential desperate hostiles on the verge of violence they were trained to disarm them before an event could occur.
In his weakened state, Jeggred couldn't even warn them. The blade on his back was a prison cell itself. Instead of physical bars of steel in locked the souls of foolish wielders in its multi-faceted gemstones glittering on the guard. The first guard grasped the sword for a mere moment before his screams echoed across the city, falling to the ground thrashing as he tried to let go of the blade. Flesh turned pale at an alarming rate as the other guards reacted swiftly, if confused.

The senior captain was hasty. Sloppy. His own sword struck Lightsbane out of the aged guards hands onto the ground to slide at Jeggreds side. Greedily he took the blade by the hilt and felt the fresh vitality of life dwelling in the sword and drank deeply. Eyes wide with the thrill of the healing waves washing over his sore body it felt like he was twenty again.
With power to spare.

The souls of humans were rich with power, strength only those trained could harness. As he did so now.

A sigh of pleasure punctuated his revitalization as Jeggred returned to his feet. Still favoring one over the other, the limp was not nearly as noticable. Even his posture had changed to a more defensive hunch with the blade waving infront of him.

"Do not.. touch.... OR SOuls... GONE! GONE!" The words came quickly, tumbling from his tongue oozing with fear. Not for himself but for the others. "No. NO! YOu cannot, will not.." Hunched and coughing he felt the magic already fading. "Must help. Darkness. Shriveling. IT COMES TO you ALL. YOU. YOU, ME, HER, ALL."

The voices in his head shrieked their nonsense as he visibly struggled to stay steady.

"Take me. Now. YOur master. I serve.."

The blade lowered until the tip rubbed against the stones at his feet while he panted heavily. The guard who had touched the blade was pale and motionless but breathing, a great deal of his vitality sapped when caught unaware. It would be days before they recovered but recover they would.

"I serve." He whispered again, glancing all around him.

The Oni felt as if she traveled across an entire nation, with not much standing tall where ever she walked, not because she would knock it down, but because something else would have done it before her and killed most of the people who congregate around their villages or towns; anyone who was alive who'd see her would often be hostile towards her, hurling insults towards her, and some even throwing things or trying to attack her with sticks, swords, and clubs; the number of times she clubbed people into a sticky bloody pulp while just asking if they could simply help her were too many to count, if she were to guess how many it would bordering into triple digits.

Soon a small town with guards came into her sight, part of her hoped that these humans were the same as the last ones as she took a bite out of a severed arm she "acquired" from a visit to another town with hostile people, as she journeyed down on the dirt path closing in on the settlement in the distance, her golden eyes picked up on something going down outside of the gates, a couple of the humans were restraining one of their own from the looks of it, and a sword was exchanging hands, going from the original owner to someone else and then to the ground.

The Oni watched the situation as she took another bite of the severed arm, she was curious about what was going to happen as one of the humans began taking the sword into his own hands, not like how most other humans would hold a sword, no they held the piece of metal in almost an embrace, then the human's voice boomed out in a yell, he only said simple words but words that were understood by them and by the Oni.

Rishi couldn't understand humans and their oddness, they used stupid looking weapons that were flat and pointy, sticks that had metal pieces attached to them, and pieces of wood with rope to launch even smaller thin pieces of wood at things. Rishi could understand that her clubs were useful and she liked having them, but she wasn't gonna fall in love with them or claim nobody else can hold them or even touch them, she shook her head sighing believing that humans were all crazy as she snacked on the severed arm.

Believing that it was about time to step into this situation, Rishi finished off the arm in a couple bites, then grabbed two of her clubs off her waist as she approached the gates ready to club any if not all of them into a mushy red pulp if things were to go wrong."Humans!" Her voice came like a thunderclap as she yelled out at them before spinning both the clubs around her hands to show her proficiency with the heavy weapons." I come for the sake, the wine, and a cure for my allies." She let out a long bloody belch with some of the blood from her previous snack spilling on her bottom lip.

"Trust me, you don't want to fight me, I've left a trail of death and destruction behind me, all I want is something to stop a plague." She rested her two clubs on her shoulders."Or are you going to scream out "a monster" then get your metal swords and sticks and try to kill me like the other humans I've met today?" She asked the group. As she waited for their response she began digging through her teeth with a black nail and plucked out a human finger from between her teeth and flicked it behind her before wiping the blood from her lips with the back of her wrist.

@Zelosse@Spriggs27

Venridge. The final destination of the journey, but far from the most spectacular. Truth to be told, this settlement had seen much better days, and nowadays only half of it didn't look like it was falling apart. Here and there, like vermin in holes, the last stubborn humans and other lesser races huddled together for warmth. Such was their folly. And yet, people still clung to these last dregs, bent on trying to ascertain a semblance of life among the decaying world.

Well, not that she was not doing the same, mind, but her attempt so far... was more throughout. The Witch of Cinders slammed her feet against the cobblestones, her hips swaying in a proud walk, as if she was a feline that she had been recently fed. Her fiery braid swayed to her sides as she walked past among the populace, hushing sounds as she got past. She was definitely not alone, as her right arm was clamped firmly around a somewhat thin but charming blonde with freckles, a daughter of some peasant with certain rough beauty around her. Sometimes, boons could be paid without money, and Scarlet had demanded the daughter of the family she had escorted into the city gates as payment. Well, she was not going to do something dangerous or harmful to the delicate woman. Cute thralls were hard to come by.

It was when her thrall shivered and refused to move when Scarlet did notice the man and the oni before her, as well as the mess around them both. Well, those guards were quite haggard. And outmatched they seemed. Scarlet's smug visage scrunched in a frown, as she comforted her shivering thrall with a gentle tap on her blonde head. "Worried, my kitty?" She said as she looked at the man with a despondent glare."Quite the ghastly fella, isn't it." She added."But don't you worry my kitty. He is naught but a carrion wraith, engorged with stolen souls. More worth of pity than actual fear." She finished, as she noticed the blonde whispering on her ear.

"The guard? Oh, he will be fine. Just watch this, kitty." She said, as she elengantly squatted before the drained guard, and making some spellcasting gestures. He had been drained quite a bit. It was a bit loathsome, but she did need a strong reagent to wake the fool up. She bit her finger, and drew blood."Now bear with me. This will either heal you or set your innards on fire. Perhaps both." She added, as she finished her chant, and dropping the potent blood in the guards' mouth, watched as how the poor fool was taken by a strong seizure, flailing as if possesed, eyes wide and frothing, before springing up back to consciousness painfully.

"Hey, just a hint, carrion wraith." She said, flipping her hair vainly as she eyed Jeggred."Keep that thing sheathed. It's gross." Scarlet stated plainly, before taking one of the sheets the guards offered and signed it with exquisite calligraphy.

But she wasn't done. There was still someone who she had not addressed as of yet."Now, that one, kitty. That one seems fairly able." She eyed the Oni who was yelling... and well, acting crude. Plus there was the familiar smell of human blood. "Monster? I have seen worse, woman. And that's not counting the state of the world these days. With everything rotten and dying even a half-able kid with a wooden sword could leave a path of destruction. Speaking of which, don't you think that killing and smashing is something we do not need right now."

---

"Bandit men on road, plain sight! Killers chase the.. our.." Towering over his Elven companion, the big human struggled for words. Unfamiliar with the language after only learning it a few months ago. "Camp of fire? Where we make rest. Yes!"

Krogier smiled widely at his personal accomplishment. Words were far more difficult to understand and learn. Violence was a language all in itself and the Druid-turned-warrior was fluent in such speak.
Behind him following at a respectable pace was his 'wife', as he called her. Atop the legendary Denmother of his homeland was the final member of his party. The Elven girl Amila.

Venridge was in view after weeks on the roads chasing rumors of a group fighting whatever evil was haunting the world.

"We are sure this is correct placing? Stinks like dung, from this far!"

"Camp fire" She corrected with a giggle. "And yes, I'm sure this is the place. Although it has been quite some time since I visited." She continued, changing to Krogier's native tongue.

With a shrill, but short whistle, she commanded Akash to scout further ahead to count the number of bandits ahead of them. Not that many.. It was only a group of 5. Perhaps she could negotiate a peaceful outcome with them. Although in the back of her mind she felt a slight pang of doubt.

"There's only 5 of them. I'm sure we can go about this peacefully." She stated to her hulking companion.

Krogier smiled as Amila used his own native language. Few others knew it outside the forest without a member of his tribe having taught them. Yet the girl had the gift for it. Of that he had been thankful. He would never admit it to her though. Switching back to his native language he continued.

"To mulch with peacefully. They rob and kill for their own ends! Selfish, disgusting, vile creatures these eastern raiders. The forest has no need of them and neither do we."

To emphasize his point he pulled the warhammer, Belanor, from his back. Its reassuring weight welcome to his sensibilities. Craning his head to look at the elf and his faithful 'wife', the glyph furred bear the elf rode so casually upon, a new thought came to mind.

"But.. IF you want peace, and I choose force, why not settle for both?"

Few things deterred the desperate like a Denmother at her full height.

Amila frowned slightly at his response to her peaceful alternative, but after travelling with him for awhile she understood that he was a fighter at heart. The thrill of the fight is what he loves, and that's just something she's accepted already. She also knew the origin of most, if not all his weapons, which she finds to be oddly sentimental for someone such as him, however she liked that about Krogier.

His suggestion surprised her, and left her slightly confused. "How would we settle for both?" She asked, not realizing his plan.

Krogier arched an eyebrow in the direction of his companion.

"Do you not feel the solution under your rump, carrying you across the ways?"

The Denmother gave what both could interpret as an amused snort of some kind as the great warded bear raised its head proudly. Even on all fours its back was at the same height as Krogier's head.

The elf flushed with embarrassment, her cheeks turning a light shade of red as she realized that she had misunderstood something so simple. However she was able to quickly regain her composure before replying, "Perhaps we don't need to even come into contact with them, save our energy for more important matters. I think we should take a slightly longer route, walking around them."

The Druid followed her line of thinking and glanced to the side paths. The forest was decaying but still provided enough cover if they took a wide march around the problem, rather than straight through it.

"Mmm." Sheathing the greathammer on his back, Krogier crossed his arms in thought. A nudge from the denmother behind him confirmed the route.

"We walk around. Another couple hours on the journey is not so much trouble. Good thinking, Elf."

Scratching the denmothers chin, the group set off for a different route.

---

Bandits on the roads, killers in the dark, neither accosted the group on the last legs of their journey. The gates of Venrige were a stones throw away. At the head of the gate was a man with pen and paper, others writing down something before entering.

Krogier stood stalk still.

"Perhaps.. you should lead."

It was embarrassing for him to admit that he could only speak broken common, not read or write it.

The sage smiled at her companion as he agreed with her plan of action. In the back of her mind, she wasn't actually sure if Krogier was going to go along with it, since his contempt for bandits was strong.

Upon reaching the gate, the guards looked very nervous, seeing a massive runic bear plodding toward them. When the trio had stopped, Amila slid off the side of the Denmother, walking over to them. The guards calmed down as they noticed the Sage's cloak.

"M-madam Sage!" One of them stuttered, the presence of the bear still intimidating him.

"Don't worry, they're with me." She said, which seemed to calm them down. A weary looking man stepped forward, ready to do his usual spiel, but upon looking up from his book, he realized who he was dealing with.

"Ah-- Madam Sage.. We weren't expecting your visit, but I assume you're here as a Seeker? And may I ask for the name of your companion?" He asks in a formal tone, attempting to appear less exhausted.

"Yes. This is Krogier, and his wife. Please excuse her appearance, she's very kind." She responded with a smile that could possibly heal everyone of their worries, but they remained confused at her introductions.

"Please head to Ulric's Estate, it's the large home on the hill straight ahead once you're through the gates" He informed, a puzzled look remaining on his features.

"Ulric? I have not visited him in years. The boy was always an.. interesting one." She thought aloud as she walked through the gates with her companions in tow. The guards and citizens watched in awe as the trio made their way through. A massive bear and a sage? Hardly an everyday occurance. "It's the benevolent sage" or "It's the Sage of the Wilds" was murmured through the small crowd that formed.

Amila, being in no real rush, had decided to talk to some of the children that approached her, rummaging through her small bag to give him assortments of berries and seeds.
"Thanks miss!" They said in unison before running off with their bounties, shouting cheerfully amongst themselves. She even started to heal those with minor illnesses along the road.

---

Eventually they made it to Ulric's Estate. She frowned as she saw it's dilapidated state, but she wasn't all that surprised given how little people respected him after his fall from grace. As she approached, she noticed lights flickering within the manor. Activity. People rushing about. She smiled as she opened the door.

"Hello? Can anyone tell me where I sign up as a Seeker~?" She called out, wondering if anyone would stop to greet her.

Eleanor Jehenne

Eleanor did not look at the meal as she stood at attention to her assumed superior. "The meal is fine and welcome, thank you. We'll all eat fine meals when this is over, sir."

She continued. "My name is Lance Corporal Eleanor Jehenne of Jumme's finest, at your service, sir." Her back was straight and her chin was up, in full military discipline. It was how she treated all scholars back in Jumme, since almost all of them were Royal Scholars and they did vital research on history, magic, and were intelligent strategists to boot and often served alongside the Royal Commisioned Officers.

The downstairs area became more crowded and active, from the sound of it. A new wave of Seekers were arriving, it seemed. Eleanor was eager to begin.

"I think you have more guests, sir."

Jeggred glared at the newcomer with open contempt. The over confident leaders of his order were dead and they had looked down upon existence itself as something to be crushed, turned rotten, and left for the carrion.

Carrion like himself. He would do anything needed to see his goals met and protect what needed to be protected. Kill whatever needed to be slain. Even if that meant eradicating everyone in his path.
The problem now was the hunger. Hazed thoughts brought lower by a lack of any substance in his body. No food, little water, surviving the journey from the mountains with not but a water skin.

In his current state these new foes would overpower him in an instant. The fiery redhead possessed healing magics, blood power caught his eye but nothing to be shared.
The only course of action was to take what he needed and suffer the consequences.

The demon and the red hair were open. A single touch of the blade on healthy individuals like them would be more than enough.. common sense told him not to. Confidence in these times meant you held power.
Power could be taken by those more powerful; of which Jegged was not. Yet.

"Fools! Time burns, the world rots. Waste your lives."

Jeggred heaved an angry sigh and skulked off, putting away the sword under his many cloaks.

There wouls be others in the city. Weaker folk half dead, sick, or a burden. They would pay the price needed to save another. Jeggred needed only find them.
If the city guards returned, he would consume them instead.

No price was too high.

Before any of the group could speak, probably frozen in fear out of Rishi's sight, a woman popped up behind of the Oni and nearly startled her, she was traveling with a skinner smaller human wrapped in rags; she was smaller than the woman she was traveling, she guessed as she glanced over her shoulder. The woman walked past Rishi going to help the human using her magic,"What's the point in giving him a hand? He's just gonna die later." She pointed out. Soon the woman told the guy to put his sword sheathed and called it gross, watching the woman's movements she figured that human cared too much about her looks, but something about her seemed off or strange, Rishi couldn't put a finger on it but the human wasn't a normal or well dying or weak human like most of the other humans she has seen, then she noticed the human was unarmed as well.

The female human then made a comment directed at Rishi, she told the Oni that a half-able child with a piece of wood could've done what she's done, Rishi let out a hearty laugh at the thought."Show me a human child that could do what I do and I'll eat my clubs then give them my horns human." She continued to laugh at the thought of it, then the woman suggested that now isn't the time for crushing and killing, Rishi's smile quickly disappeared and her golden eyes stared at the woman giving her a deadly glare." There is always time for killing and smashing, there is always time for wine, and there will always be time for killing and smashing." She told the strange human woman."I don't tell you that there isn't time for your favorite things."

Suddenly the human with the sword began squawking up again talking about time being rotted and them wasting their lives, it was weird hearing it from a human that looked like a shriveled up tree, the guy put his sword away before going into the town and running off to unknown parts." Humans are all so weird." She spoke aloud.

@Rekaigan

Krogier kept pace with his Elven associate with Denmother close behind. Compared to just a rare and powerful sight he felt almost invisible. Diminished to something like a a bodyguard or some kind of animal handler.
Not that he minded. The city itself was a rotten piece of rock with stolen wood homes littering the surroundings. Every inch if it offended his delicate sensibilities, his love of nature, but mostly it reminded him of home. The denmothers forest. A shadow of itself and the gloriousness of what it used to be.

Krogier kept a soft face but his stiff posture betrayed his inner turmoil. Memories were indeed painful, but necessary. His loved ones hung from his belt as testimont to that philosophy.

Crowds formed everywhere the elf went, always speaking her name with reverance along with he title. Something the druid warrior was unfamiliar with.

Swapping to his native tongue, he addressed the sage.

"You are certainly popular. What is this sage title they honor you with?"

---

A warm smile came upon the scholar's face upom hearing Eleanor's approval. As quick as that smile came it vanished, replaced with a look of surprise as he got up from the table. "We dont usually recieve this many Seekers in a day, mostly refugees", he said to his guests as he approached the door. A smile returned to Printh's face as he turned towards the threshold only for it to once again vanish with a look of confusion and slight fear. "Welcome...to...Venridge", Printh struggled to find appropriate words once he saw the size of the denmother. His mouth was slightly agape as he eyed her down before quickly attempting to compose himself, "Yes, um, welcome to Venridge friends. If you're here to be seekers you already are. Unfortunately there is no ceremony yet so for now you are Seekers in name alone"

Despite his attempts to appear amicable, Printh couldn't help but hold a look of terror as he glanced over frequently to the denmother. "Anyways, If you're looking for work, I believe I have something for you. A group of this size should do the job well enough", in a series of quick motions, Printh had scurried from one end of the room to another grabbing up maps and papers along the way. "We've found something interesting beneath the city, well, nearby underneath but thats unimportant. Not long after The Conclave arrived at Venridge did we find records of the mine, Ulric's Folly. I'm sure you are aware of the story but I'll repeat it anyways. Ulric was the last lord of Venridge before the city got its unfortuante title. As lord he sought to gain wealth for himself and so began mining the caves nearby for silver. He poured so many resources into the mine the network ran beneath the city. At some point the mines reached a pocket of poisonous gas traapped underground. At the same time, the mine vecame unstable beneath the city and a whole portion of Venridge collapsed into a massive pit. In an attempt to save the remaining inhabitants from the gas now rising from below, Guthrum, the city mage, used geomancy to seal up the collapsed portion of the city beneath the ground. Ulric later fell into dispair and tool his own life somewhere in the mines. Such is the story of Ulric's Folly. For so long we believed this to be true but after examining the caves we found something amazing", there was a grest deal of energy in Printh's speech as well as his actions as he hurried to assemble the papers he gathered on the table.

"Near the entrance to the mines, we found these inscriptions on the walls. These aren't the scribblings of a bored youth because they were etched in perfectly carved stone. Tunnel walls meant to be used by who? We did not know at first but after sending copies to associates as far as Omujir we discovered that these writings are somehow scattered across the Old World. At some point there was some ancient race of beings, a singular empire that stretched across the known world and we were the first to fully realize that. It is quite interesting really, we've spent a great deal of time investigating the caves since getting here. What makes this so important is that after translating a portion of the inscriptions, there is mention of the world's decay", there was a pause as Printh took a moment to savor the revelation. Months of work had finally given them a trail to follow. "I've been studying these inscriptions, translating as much as I can to the best of my ability, I believe that these people found a way to stop the decay or at least reverse its effects temporarily. Either way it worked long enough that they never had to worrk about it for the remainder of their existence. If we could just-"

"Scholar Printh!", a harsh voice filled the room, silencing the scholar mid-speech. Printh jumped from his hunched over view of the table to face his superior.

"Archivist Hervig! I was just speaking with our new Seekers about the caves and-"

"I am well aware of what you were doing, what I wish to know is why you did not inform me of these new arrivals beforehand"

"I simply did not wish to waste your time, sir. I assumed it was fine to explain to them our findings and send them on their first assignment"

"Let me remind you, Scholar, that your responsibilities are to translate and study the findings these Seekers bring to you. Nothing more. Before we bring on more mercenaries looking for a meal ticket, It is my responsibility to assess their capability before this organization makes the mistake of hiring on incompetent fools. Am I clear, Scholar Printh?", Hervig's eyes glared at the scholar before scanning over the new arrivals. It was clear the man was unconvinced and the sight of the denmother only reinforced his belief that they were nothing more than a circus group.

"Yes sir, my apologies"

"If you envy these 'Seekers' so much, you should join them in the caves", there was a moment of silence from Hervig as he eyed the Seekers. "You've not told them yet? Very well, then I shall. Earlier today, an exploration group in the caves failed to return to the city. Prior to their disappearance they sent a messenger with a note saying they'd found something in the cave system. A large chamber with a black obelisk. The messenger who was with them said that from what they saw, whatever was in that room is probably the focal point of the underground cave network"

"Yes, the whole cave system appears to be some sort of dungeon, an underground fortification in a way. It is believed that the obelisk within is meant to be protected. What is it can only be guessed but if it gives us a hint as to how to stop the decay, it cannot be ignored", there was a look in Printh's eyes, one of determination and belief that whatever was in that cave was the answer they were looking for. The solution this world desperately needed.

"Scholar Printh, you will take this lot and another by the gates to the caves. Sir Tavner is awaiting you all there. I suggest you hurry and get this done with before nightfall. Bandits were spotted nearby, and we cannot risk sending reinforcements after you", without another word Hervig retreated to the upper levels of the home, a scowl on his face as he did so. As for Printh, the man seemed excited and terrified at the thought of actually venturing into the caves which claimed the exploration team.

"Shall we be off then?", he asked before heading out the door in a slight stumble.

The salty breeze of the sea was tainted by a certain foulness, one that Garren just couldn't quite pinpoint. He remembered how the stories of the sea spoke of the smell so much more fondly than what he thought of it now, and after such a long journey he was growing tired of it. It seemed like ages ago that he wished to be sailing as he did now, on a ship bound for some adventurer's guild making a last ditch effort to save the world - give or take a few details here and there, of course - but now that he was doing just that... it just didn't feel right.

He was certain that this was the right choice... but, then, why did it feel so wrong? He wasn't just doing it for the glory, was he? Certainly, there would be glory in it, but that couldn't be the only reason he had to help, could it? No, of course not! Garren always did his best to excercise humility, at least when he wasn't drunk. He was doing this for Sirrendyl. After all, it was his fault for distracting the masses from the danger that had been at their doorstep and leaving his homeland in such a vulnerable state.

There was a knock at the door, and Garren looked over to see a man with a lantern standing in the door way - one of the sailors aboard the ship. "Don't ye ever take yer armor off?" He asked as the ship groaned.

Giving him a stern look, not that the sailor could tell, Garren let out a sigh and shook his head. Looking down at his hands, Garren watched the floor as the light got closer. "Say, I wonder ta where that talkative fella went? Cause ye certainly ain't 'im." The sailor continued with a smirk, clearly trying to joke around. Realizing how futile an attempt he had made, the smile disappeared from the sailor's face. "Look, I dunno know what's the matter but I'll leave ye to it. Just thought ye'd want ta know we're approaching Venridge now. Get yerself ready ta disembark, we'll be there shortly." The man finished, the floorboards creaking as he turned to leave. Once out of the doorway the sailor was met by another, but this one was a woman.

"How's our charge faring? Might he be seasick? Haven't heard his loud mouth all bloody day." She said with a chuckle, glancing into the poorly lit room. "Seems so..."

"Thinkin' he's pretty down in the gutter meself, wouldnae speak a word ta me. Makes me think we left ol' Garren the gladiatior behind, an' picked us up some kind o' poser. But thas his armor an' weapons ta be certain." The first sailor replied, gesturing through the door towards Garren.

"Right... so how's about we stop standin' 'round here in the doorway and help bring 'er into port, ay?" The lady sailor asked as she started to head back up to the deck, the other sailor following and taking the lantern with him. Returned to relative darkness, Garren decided to light a lantern of his own and gather his things.

---

Dirron,
I hope this letter finds you well, son, I know how cold this world can be. You're last package arrived a few days ago along with your last letter. Your mother was worried to death upon reading of your fight with the wights. I do admit, you gave me a fright but I knew that this letter alone ment you were alright. The homestead is doing well, as well as it can be atleast. The estate itself is fine but we harvest less from the fields each year. Many have gone to the cities for shelter, your mother suggested we do the same but I remember what predators lurk there. For now we'll remain on the property, I'll take your mother to your uncle if things get to dangerous here. I don't mean to put pressure on you, lad, but whatever plan is forging in your head better be ready quick. The decay is getting worse but I know that if there's anyone capable of sorting all this out its you. Good luck to you, son.
Love, Your Father

No time was wasted in folding up the letter and returning it to his bag. This was the last stop for his group before their task began and he wished for it to be over with quickly. In the dead woods near Venridge, a new breed of monster had taken residence. For weeks it had been terrorizing the refugees along the roads to Venridge. This new creature, in addition to the bandits and highwaymen who stalked these roads, had made travel to Venridge almost impossible.

"Sir, the men are ready", Erik called over to his commander from the campfire. The young man had joined The Conclave to be a Seeker with his only combat experience being swatting at foxes from the hen house with his family's pitchfork. The Conclave had little in the way of an actual army or infrastructure, so the only backup Dirron would have was a group of farm boys. Even so, it would not stop him from performing his duties.

"Very well, gather round, here is the plan", Dirron awaited his comrades to surround the stump upon which a layout of the suspected den was placed. "Its an underground den, so I will enter and try to lead the creature out. Our archers will stand above the entrance, on this here mound. Once the beast is outside, fire at will. I will continue to distract it while the first group of spearmen will get behind it and block off its escape back into the cave. Once that is done, our mage will hit it with everything he's got, keep it confused and hurting. With all that, it should be easy for us to close in and slay the monster. Archers, watch your fire, you'll be aiming near us. Same goes for our mage, Jadur, watch those spells. As for the rest of you, follow the plan and watch out for eachother. If we do this right, all of us get to go home"


That was a week ago. Dirron and his men managed to slay the abomination, but only the mage and three spearmen survived. The others were killed, their deaths were slow and anything but painless. Now the knight stood at the entrance of a cave, another mission to do, another monster to kill. That was the only conclusion he could make as to the reason for the exploration party's disappearance. Somewhere in those caves was another abomination, waiting to claim more lives. "They have us waiting for when they gather up enough Seekers to do this...more meat for the chopping block", Dirron's eyes were fixed on the city, their position giving him a decent view of Venridge and the coast. "Garren, what do you think the chances are that there's some sort of demonspawn down in those caves?", Dirron's gaze never moved as he spoke to the former gladiator. His cold stare seemed to almost peer into ones soul. Such was his way of dealing with loss. Whenever tragedy struck, the knight would become like the dead, cold and unmoving. "I wager ten silver that whatever is down there is an ambusher. Damn thing probably prefers to seperate and confuse its prey, the damned weakling shit"

"Well that hardly seems fair, I thought I'd told ya I don't gamble these days?" Said Garren, who was sitting on a nearby rock with his arms folded. "I'll wager double that whatever it is, it's blind. The nasty bastard lives in a cave as large as the locals say this place is supposed to be? Yeah, I'll bet it's blind and cunning as all hell..." He continued, clearning his throat afterwards.

"I'm betting its small too, cant be too big when stalking in a cave...still want to take that bet?"

"Ah, hell, I got tha coin so why not, yeah? I'm feelin'... maybe some kind of spidery thing? Spiders like dark places, and there's a whole lotsa dark down there. Never-the-less my friend, we'll live to see it killed." Garren posited, standing up and stretching his arms. "At least... I know I will." He added as a joke, smirking under his helm.

"The day is young, any idea when the reinforcements will arrive? I hate waiting around for this sort of work"

@Spriggs27@Zelosse

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. That was just cute, that nasty glare the carrion Wraith shot in her direction. She rolled her eyes as her womanpet whimpered and shivered, clearly unused to intimidating people.Come on, make that stupid mistake. Try me. I grow tired of the tortured soul charade, and the deranged prophet mumbo jumbo. Guys like you are dime a dozen these days. Silly humans despair and are broken for so very little. She thought to herself, as she folded her arms. The carrion Wraith spoke nonsense, called her a fool, but tucked its tail and eventually ran.

Typical, really. At least he was more intelligent than she had initially thought. Should they ever meet again, she would have to take notice of it. But now...

Well, there was the Oni, giving her a serious glare and gameface. Should she have reacted to that? Well, whoops, that was a bit of a careless mistake on her part. Humans weren't supposed to be that dismissive and not even bother to look at those kind of veiled threats. So she reacted (half assedly and late) to the Oni's talk. Well, the soul draining dreg was quite striking was he?

"You don't see several high fires or screams right now, do you? I don't need to be told that doing my favorite thing would be contraproducent right now. It's called common sense." The witch added, snapping her fingers and propping a small flame in her palm which she extinguished as soon as it appeared. "I am not sure if that thing still qualifies as human, though." She scratched her head, as she eyed her thrall. "But one thing I agree with you, Oni. Wine could be good before doing our tasks. Fetch us wine, kitten."

She added, before letting the girl go. She literally ran, not wanting to be surrounded by these kind of strangers.

Eleanor Jehenne

The eager new seeker followed Scholar Printh, though she did hang back to get a good look at what were going to be her fellow squadmates. She expected to see people like her- soldiers with enough combat experience to be prepared for intense warfare but not old enough to be jaded. Eager, hopeful, determined to fight and win.

Instead, what she got was a God Forsaken freakshow. Besides the priest and the elf girl, it looked like almost everyone here was some kind of deranged lunatic, monster, or rabble rouser. Oh, dear. Desperate times call for desperate measures, she supposed.

She was being far too judgemental. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad- it's not that she doubted their combat prowess, mroe that she doubted that they would do the right thing with said combat prowess. Swallowing her doubt, Eleanor Jehenne spoke up.

"Good evening, everyone. I'm Lance Corporal Eleanor Jehenne. I...look forward to getting to know and work with you all." She quickly walked on, following the Scholar out and not hoping to engage in conversation quite yet.

@TheDarkTemplar

Krogier nodded along with the explanation being given. Ancient beings, scribblings on walls, the little quarrel between Scholar Printh and this new archivist fellow. None of that made any dent at all in the forest walkers mind as he failed to grasp what was being told to him. Truly he was the unlearned one. If it did not involve the will of the trees then it was deemed useless. The only thing he cared about was the mission and its results. These men were the first step towards freeing the rot from the forest.

Smiling, he turned to the Denmother. She must like the attention. People were always shocked at such a majestic creature.

"Ah, Printh. You have forgetting to greet the sage."
Motioning his hand back, he directed the attention to the Elf traveler he had joined with on the road.

"We can be going whenever you have finished."

Like everyone else in the town thus far he was sure this Scholar Printh would have many questions. Not just about the bear.

---

Amila almost anticipated Krogier's question, as he had traveled with her for the past few weeks without even questioning her origins. It was uncommon to meet others who don't know what a Sage is, and what that title means. More often than not, a Sage is either feared or revered based on their reputation.
"Popular? I suppose so. The title of Sage is given to those who are most knowledgeable or powerful in the realm of magic. It's a title that was bestowed upon me forty years ago. Sages are basically scholars. To me anyway." She replied, using his native tongue for ease of communication.

As she thought, the scholar that greeted them was more intimidated by the bear to really notice Krogier and herself, however he managed to give his greeting. She noticed another person, whom she would assume to be another Seeker. A young human woman. Amila stayed silent, listening to the Scholar's explanation of their findings and their first mission. The elf's features brightened when she heard that they've discovered some information about the world's decay. Hervig's interruption was quite unwarranted in Amila's eyes, but hierarchy was always a problem in Human society. As the briefing came to an end, it was time for the present seekers to follow the Scholar. The human woman introduced herself in relative haste and began to walk out the door.

Amila caught up to the Lance Corporal, a warm smile on her face. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Eleanor. I'm Amila Yilen, Sage of the Wilds." She greeted, holding out her hand for a handshake as she kept pace with the soldier. The raven on her shoulder peered intently at Eleanor, it's beady eyes examining her.
"And this is my familiar, Akash." She added with a small chuckle.

Eleanor Jehenne

---

Eleanor winced when he heard someone catch up to her. She glanced over her shoulder and was somewhat relieved when she saw it was the elf...girl? Elf woman? She might be a thousand years old or something ridiculous like that. Either way, the elven...female introduced herself as Amila Yilen, 'Sage of the Wilds'. That caught her off guard; Eleanor wondered if she was really a proper "Sage", as in the title granted by the Sages of Ciir, or just a sage.

"Greetings, Amila Yilen." Eleanor slowed down a bit. "I am Lance Corporal Eleanor Jehenne." She repeated what she said just moments ago. The lance corporal extended her hand to return the handshake, though she leaned slightly backward and blinked at the raven on her shoulder.

"You have a pet raven?" Eleanor asked, transition her handshake into an inquisitive gesture at the black bird that was covered in strange blue markings. She thought to herself that it was better than having a large pet bear.

Once the sword-wielding human had run off and the strange lady had given enough of her thoughts on him, she finally turned to the Oni and finally spoken to her asking if there were several fires and screams right now, to which Rishi heard none of, then the strange woman said it was common sense to not be causing them." You're just a prude, causing chaos is the best thing to do when morale is low, it makes everyone happy and keeps the ones being attacked on edge and alert. You don't embrace the chaos when it's happening I see because if you did you'd know how enjoyable it can be and how much fun can be had." She told the woman.

Then she brought up the sword-wielding wrinkly human from before saying that he was a thing and didn't count as human." I don't know about you, but you should get your eyes checked, still looks human to me, just looks wrinkly and brittle, the best kind of human to eat, bones snap like tree arms and the flesh is just chewy enough to go down properly." She told the woman almost forgetting she was a human herself." Something you should try in your spare time if you don't mind chomping down on another one of your kind really."

Finally, the strange woman and the Oni agreed on something, it was drinking, wine to be more specific, the lady sent her "pet" human to fetch some wine. While waiting seemed like something she'd do, Rishi decided she wasn't gonna keep standing around." I'm not gonna sit around and wait for your tiny human to bring a small bottle of the stuff, I'm gonna look for the tavern's keg if you're lucky I'll save you some." She began stomping past the guards and into the town with both of her clubs on her hips.

As she wandered around with tiny humans avoiding her gaze, Rishi couldn't exactly find the tavern, as she stomped around trying to find the place she found a bigger house in the town that might be holding wine. The Oni shook her massive sake gourd and drunk a tiny drop of sake that lingered in the gourd, once she arrived at the house she pushed opened the doors yelling out." Humans, other small creatures! I'm here for the wine, stand in my way and I'll make you into a lunch."