Mentioning @hotsyrup.

“Uh.. Ahm.. Well. It seems there is nothing much out here. I was wrong. So I’m going to… pop back into the tavern.”

Was it the smell? Or what he said? Was it what he was hiding? Or literally everything he just did?

Whatever the case, staying out in the wild too long must have done horrible wonders for Sheffield's social skills, even as someone who lived around forests. He made a surprised sound and raised a hand to... do whatever. Stop her? He let his hand fall to his side in shame. It was his fault he scared Lyra off. It's been weeks since he actually sat down and talked to someone. Even if she was a troubled person, he had a feeling she was practically harmless.

Except now it was clear she was going to do something. Call someone on him maybe, that a kid covered in blood was rambling. He quickly stood up and wondered what could happen if he ran, or if he stayed.

There was another tavern, said the townsman from earlier. He could probably stay there, but seeing as there had been nothing notable about it, a cleaning of himself was in order, as much as he could anyway.

The well. Or maybe stables. No, the tailor, and perhaps a blacksmith willing to accept some scrap metal.

He promptly shrugged off his upper armor, revealing his black tunic, a tabard with a little splash of red over grey colors over it, torso-protecting chainmail, and arms thinner than what the plated sleeves suggested. Then he slipped off the lower part, showing off black trousers tucked into boots.

The young Hunter's elbows felt a little colder now, but he shrugged it off. Without the covering armor he probably looked less leery or messed up, and maybe less imposing what with the height the whole set seemed to show.

Sheffield looked back at the windows of the tavern. He considered what to say to the shopkeepers of this town where Hunters often visited. But he managed to spook Lyra, for all her aloofness.

Maybe he should go inside the tavern and apologize after all, then see if this Bobby would get him a room--

Sheffield?

The young man felt chills all over him. He spun around. That sounded like...

"Teresia?" he asked aloud. There was no one walking by at this point in nighttime, but he heard her.

He walked over to the road. Then he looked to the Forest, where the borders of the town met an unspoken line.

The moonlight could barely pierce through the canopies, but there, a girl that seemed to catch what pitiful amount was left.

She had brown hair, braided into twin ropes over her back. She wore a cloak, red as blood, and robes as white as ordinary canvas. Her tough messenger bag would sway a little at her hip. Her purple eyes would shine like amethyst. She stood tall, acting neutrally, carefully, and expectant.

But that was then. This girl was much shorter, perhaps a little over Sheffield's waist. This girl still had her face, her eyes still like purple gems, but her hair was a sheet of ghostly white. She was dressed in a more lily-like white, short-sleeved, flowing dress, with black frills running down her sides. Even her bag was there, despite these changes.

She stared at him. Then she turned and ran into the gaping jaws of darkness, into the forest where the strange and the impossible awaited.

"Hey, Teresia! I-If you are... wait!"

Sheffield shouted desperately, but the girl who seemed to glow in the dark still ran off.

The reasonable part of Sheffield said he had to wait until morning. He was no one-man battalion for all that he survived. He could ask the Hunters for help. But no, that would be asking much of them, especially so for two strangers involved.

The other part told him to just go then! This was a chance he should not risk missing.

And he often listened to that other part. He registered everything he had against the Forest; terrible odds. But there was his best friend.

He started to walk. At this moment, he wished for someone who would be walking out, someone he could simply ask on what might be a suicidal search.

Andvari noticed that his unexpected callout towards Bartolomeo had apparently managed to free the hunter from his somewhat nervous looking state. The only thing that lacked was an immediate feedback if this was actually a benign thing or rather due to having been startled by Andvari's voice. The latter, probably not exactly surprising if one took a look at the volume of the hunter's upper body, was extremely chesty. In fact there had been suggestions in Andvari's past that he should try a career as an opera singer. Now obviously things had not come this far as of now, and quite frankly Witches' Paradise didn't seem to be anywhere near a good place to start said career.

Andvari tried not to accidentally hit the noble looking man's knees as he pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table and sat down. The piece of furniture was significantly lower than the bar stool he came from, so he faced rather obvious issues when trying to accomodate himself properly. Also Andvari made no secret of his interest in Bartolomeo's cane. A clattering noise had emanated from it, raising his suspicion about its shaft not being entirely solid and causing him to lean sideways in order to get another look at the thing. Close-up it looked even more precious than from further away, but without any means to look inside of it he could only speculate about its true nature.

"You look a little nervous." he ultimately addressed Bartolomeo, trying to maintain his subtle smile towards the other man. However Andvari's efforts in terms of facial expression were utterly shattered in an instant as a loud crack could be heard, his countenance slipping away and degenerating into pure astonishment as he could suddenly see Flint's head resting in... well... a soft place where it wouldn't get hurt by accident all too soon anymore. And as if this didn't suffice another relatively large man got up and made an effort to rip Flint's head out of that place again, subsequently granting it the dubious luxury of bare, dirt-stained wood. The motive ? Explained by the doer right away and without any holding back it seemed.

"Well, erm..." Only slowly Andvari turned his head back toward his conversational partner, but he already started speaking again well before the movement's completion. "It seems you can discontinue your search. If that isn't nasty I don't know..." He started to chuckle -- something he should probably try to stop right away as the already overloaded chair made precarious creaking noises with every of Andvari's moves. Noticing this he tried to calm himself, but still grinned many seconds later.

"What's your name ? I'm Andvari. Andvari Markat. Are you a hunter ?"

Since he had positioned himself at the end of the table opposing Bartolomeo Andvari could see the counter and those roaming in front of it without turning his head. It allowed him to discover ongoing conversations there optically before even hearing them. While not trying to be too nosy he still couldn't stop himself from focusing in on a particular one between Emiliah and another female the former had just literally pulled towards her. He understood most of the verbal exchange between them and made a mental note about it. It might be interesting to dig deeper into when there was the opportunity, maybe he could even extract more information simply by eavesdropping while sitting here. For the moment however Bartolomeo had his primary attention.

Ryleth’s face darkened when he got his mission. He knew the coven Alexina was talking about. Hell, he expected said coven to integrate with the Bloodrose coven in due time. They would make excellent allies. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He wouldn’t challenge her. Not today. Still, he would find a way to complete the mission without killing the witches. They were too important for his plan. He wanted to turn away and prepare for the mission. Until Alexina added her final demand. Ryleth’s eyes betrayed his disbelief. A blood oath! It was not a thing to take up lightly. In his entire life, Ryleth hadn’t been bound by one. Ever. Now Alexina stood before him with her knife, making the demand.

He took a step to protest. A blood oath would be too much! But then she talked about it being a lesson. He kept believing she was a fool. A delusional fool that thought she actually had made peace with the hunters. After decades of hexing the land and It’s blood she now truly believed they could live without fear? No, he did not trust her leadership. Fledgling tyrants ask to trust them and Ryleth was not about to kneel before someone whose neck was clearly not strong enough for the crown.

So instead of protest, instead of swearing he would never take a blood oath he walked up to Alexina. Without a word he took her blade, slit it effortlessly across his hand and showed her his palm as he recited the words: “By the bond of my blood, I vow to complete my penance, lest I suffer the Fisher King ’s curse.“ Fresh blood from him, mixed with Angela’s blood, Alexina’s blood and the flaked blood of Goldencrest’s priests dripped across his arm onto the stones beneath him. He gave back Alexina’s knife and turned away from her with disgust. “There you have your oath. I hope you can live with it.” He said though he wanted to spit it out.

Still he did not feel defeated. With his back at Alexina he kneeled before the corpse of Angela. He used his bloodied shirt as a shroud to cover her face and then picked her. “Now if you would excuse me. I’ve have a duty to fulfill.”

Sanjin nodded wordless as the doctor (as politely as she could he guessed) refused his help. He was about to ask her where she had learned to do her craft, more out of boredom than anything else when the man woke up. Flashing his savior at what would probably been a roguish grin were it not for the blood coming out of several newly formed orifices before the table gave way, planting his face firmly in the woman's lap.

The woman made no move to push him out of her lap, so Sanjin just assumed she had taken no offense to the sudden intrusion. Given the guys injuries, that made sense. Its not like he'd MEANT to be there. Though, apparently not all the hunters in the tavern shared her pragmatism, the two of them catching a few looks of what Sanjin assumed to be scandal before another hunter came over to scold his peer.

The young Pack member rolled his eyes, squatting down to Flint's level. "While you're down there. You mentioned Wendigos. I'm guessing those are the slight problem you mentioned when you walked in?" He asked, not really wanting a potentially great job pass him by.

Lyra turned quickly as Emiliah tugged at her arm. At first, she flinched but the fear that had kept her shaky subsided. Her muscles relaxed almost immediately. Though, it took her a moment to put a finger on who Emiliah was.

A familiar face. Thank the gods. A familiar face.

She was so relieved and glad to see someone she knew-- even if they really were just a stranger-- that she didn’t know what to say at first. The pair stepped away from Bobby and Lyra finally managed to find her words.

“The problem? Oh, yes. Auhm. There is this man, outside. He is being… incredibly strange. Just going on about all sorts of creepy things. Like people were watching us and whatnot. His hair was stained with blood. But I-”

She meant to continue but a thud interrupted her-- which was probably for the best. Lyra could go on and on at this point. She looked up just long enough to comprehend the situation with the injured man. A tiny smile slipped onto her lips as Emiliah cursed. Her gaze drifted back to her and their eyes met. Silver and gold.

“Friend of yours?”

Matrim
Forest outside Goldencrest
With @ellion and @kitty

Matrim slammed to the ground from the sudden impact, giving out a long “ow…” as he shook his head. Did he just run into someone? In the middle of the damn forest? Maybe they’re hunters, like murder deer hunters, he thought. Or did I just run into another undead?

“Can you stand?” A voice asked from above, making Matrim look up and see a boy, likely the boy he literally ran into, offering his hand. No, not a hunter, nor an undead. There was a girl too, with blazing red hair. Maybe a couple from the town, or having eloped from somewhere else? Maybe the fog chased them out here?

“Yeah...yeah…sorry about that,” he muttered, taking the boy’s hand to stand up. On his feet, he grabbed his staff and looked over at the two. The boy’s other hand looked damaged, likely done just when the two had collided. “Oh thank Divines you aren’t those bloody undead…” He perked up as he heard the sounds of the undead who were incoming. “Although as much as I want to introduce you two to my new friends, now’s not the best time.” The two didn’t seem too capable of fighting, and even he had a problem fighting the undead. Running was certainly the answer right now.

“The undead came with the fog, so we should probably leave it,” he explained quickly. Without even realizing it, he was trying to make sure they were all getting out alive. The moment caught him up in saving others, actually trying to save others for once. “Come on!”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aromull
Witches Paradise
Annoying Flint [@aer] with questions

The man had recovered far faster than Aromull originally expected, and did not seem in very much pain, though the breaking of the table almost caused another injury. Luckily, the man had not impacted the chair and rather hit his head onto the woman’s lap. The man was quickly pulled off by another hunter, but not before the man mentioned the word wendigos. That certainly perked up Aromull, intrigued by yet another creature that had eluded him over the years. Not just witches here, oh how delightful!

“Wendigos?” Aromull asked to confirm. “I did not know such creatures even existed here. You did same wendigos plurally right? How many did you see? They hunt in packs correct?” He opened his book and flipped pages hurriedly, getting to a small section on wendigos. “Fire is their weakness, or is that just rumors?”

Lucy paused as she anticipated Alexina’s reply, the end of her tail wagging excitedly like how a little puppy would;

Which one will she choose?

The little reptile watched the coven leader who was in deep thought. She then gave Lucy a light tickle under her chin, eventually expressing her sheer fascination on the last choice; the poison.
However, in the end, even after implying how she wishes to talk to Hellena about the particular matter within an available timing, she had other plans in mind and chose none of the options that Lucy laid out.

“Yes, mistress.” Lucy deeply hissed, and extended a deep bow of her head to pay her utmost respects before slowly slithering down from Alexina’s body to the ground.

Hellena who had watched from afar, saw Alexina’s look of approval and felt an immediate spark of pride as if she had just won a competition. She then carefully tucked in the little glass bottle of the glowing potion inside her straw basket that she had been holding on to before reaching out her arm for Lucy to come slithering up to her neck and wrapping around her loosely.

“Well? Spill.” Hellena demanded.
“Wellll…..” Lucy let out a hiss as to giggle. “She didn’t want any of them.”
“Hm?” Hellena’s brow flashed up in surprise.
“For now. She’ll want to have a word with you soon, mistress. Better keep a sharp eye now, shall we?”

Before she could reply, Ryleth’s voice could be heard from the center of the crowd. He had been keen enough to choose the first option Alexina had given them; the Penitence Mission. Shortly, another witch who had stayed by his side followed suit as she made the same choice as him.

Hellena’s eyes landed on Ryleth, quite amazed at his willingness to co-operate, even if she had been half expecting for him to say no to everything that just happened and just walk away, taking with him his bits of pride. As Alexina explained to them their Penitence Mission that included invading a nearby coven, the sight surely became much more amusing to the red headed witch as curiosity snaked its way to the tips of her skin. Despite being aware of the existence of covens, she didn’t seem to be aware of any coven that stood nearby Bloodrose Castle. Her cluelessness had only then matched with the other witch on trial with Ryleth who had asked Alexina for any information on said coven.

Topping that off was the sheer look of disbelief that showed up on Ryleth’s face the moment he had gotten hold of the mission, and it surely didn’t get any better once Alexina demanded a blood oath to take place between her and the witches as a promise to fulfill their assignment. Hellena’s lips pursed in suspicion. With how he had reacted, Ryleth sure looked like he had been familiar with the particular coven. What does he know?

Hellena’s let out a quiet gasp as she watched the sacred ritual. Never in her life had she witnessed a blood oath, nor had indulged herself in such. It was surely a sight to behold for the red headed witch.

Once they had finished, Hellena had only continued to watch Ryleth who turned his back coldly on Alexina before tending to the witch that had come face-to-face with Alexina’s wrath at the start of the trial.

“Best of luck to you, master Ryleth.” Lucy hissed, her tongue tangled with bits of sass.

Hellena heard her little pet and thought how it was only right to wish him in his coming endeavor. Because if there had been anything that Hellena could extract from Ryleth’s earlier responses, it could have been nothing else but pure hesitation and protest.
As a little contribution, Hellena simply bowed her head at him as he continued to his way.

---

Sarah almost told Dale to keep that arrow nocked. She still didn’t trust the shadowy figure. It could all be a trap still. The man could’ve used the silence to draw them in. Then that fool of a priest announced the princess with the glories worthy of a throne room. They were standing in a ruined church though. “Be quiet you pompous fool!” Sarah screamed out as she drew her blade and pushed it against Father Wyn’s neck. “Any witch’s spy could’ve heard that!” Her eyes were wildly looking at her surroundings now. Looking for strange birds or the glowing eyes of a night crawling cat.

Something feels very off with the party he’s facing. First, they accused him of being the one responsible for the whole mess. This part, John can understand. What he didn’t get, was that they then proceed to leave him alone for a few precious seconds. Excessive, you might say, but in the face of a supposed warlock with the ability to lay waste to a village overnight, ten seconds of uninterrupted silence are enough to get you killed, experienced hunter or not.

Worse still, the little girl in their party cluelessly approached him without taking precautions. And the two grown up men actually allowed her to. Then she spewed some naive bullshit about him being not suspicious at all because he kept his silence, and the archer of the group let his guard down. A few exchange of words later, and the priest-like figure of the group announced that the little girl is indeed, a princess. Not something you want to say to a potential enemy, really.

Well, enough is enough.

“That lady with silver hair is right, you know,” John finally broke his silence. “No self-respecting bodyguard would out their master needlessly like you do.”

Finally having the group’s undivided attention to him, he used the opportunity to dish out the so-called “honesty” the group demanded.

“You’re an idiot,” said John to the priest, whose pride made him blurt out vital information to the face of potential threat.

“You’re a shameless glory hunter,” he continued while pointing towards the archer, who blindly followed the order of a girl who clearly had no on-site hunting experience, despite looking like a seasoned veteran himself.

“You’re way too trusting to be leading men to witch hunts, milady,” he then said to the oncoming princess as he lowered his face closer to hers, as if to inspect the face of someone who could very well doom her party to untimely death due to her naivete.

“And you,” he then raised his gaze towards Sarah, “has clearly demonstrated how uncoordinated this party is. How does it feel to be the only person trying to keep everybody alive?”

He talked far too much. Sarah took the blade off the priest’s neck. No, she wasn’t convinced he was anything less than an utter fool but he could hardly swallow his words again. As for the stranger in the church, if he was a warlock he was a surprisingly chatty one. Though the fact he had some common sense elevated him above the rest of this increasingly shabby looking band of witch hunters. She was about to answer the stranger’s question though got annoyed at the belling tolling above them more and more. Then Tallia warning came. Sarah had just looked up to see what was making the heavy bell ring so much when it was coming down. Just in time, she could jump out of its way.

---

The little spider clung to her new home with all her might. Unable to hear voices as a human do, she could feel the air vibrating ominously overhead. A tremor that grew closer and more intense with every reverberation, as if to swallow her world whole.

Thankfully her landowner was swift enough to avoid the falling mass of brass before they both get swatted to death. A few rolls later, she landed square on her foot, without as much as a cut or a bruise.

The other guy though, the one the Voice commanded to never take her eyes off of, did not seem to be as fortunate. As the bell fall, the little spider saw him pushed the other,smaller girl out of harm’s way and into the white-robed guy's arms. Then, his visage was obscured by the bell, the flying debris, and erupting dust.

What a mess. If he died, the Voice would be very. VERY. upset.

Speaking of the Voice.. Had she always been this.. Silent?

---

As Tallia and Tera were talking through the rubble of the bell, Sarah walked up to it and knocked on its sides. “For whom the bell tolls.” she said with a small laugh. She felt rather surprised that she jumped.

“Oy. Tone it down will you?” a voice rung in answer to her messing with the bell. The owner of the voice? A rather shaken suspicious possibly-a-warlock guy from before. Apparently he had rolled away from the bell, and straight to a rock-solid pew on the other side of the church. He hurried to his feet after declaring that he's still there and very much alive, but a single glance is all it takes to see that he's not in as pristine a condition as the others are. Not as high and mighty as his speech now, is he?

Sarah was about to tell the man she wasn’t talking about him but then the bone chilling scream echoed through the village. Next the hunters outside announced their threat. “I checked the crypts. There were no latent necromancer traps!” She yelled as she joined the other hunters in barricading the main hall. After a few pews were put up as a makeshift defense she stopped. Undead were numerous but rather unathletic. Very few would come crawling over. Still, they had numbers. They always had the numbers.

She turned to the stranger. Clearly, this one had more sense than her own retinue. “We need to get out of here.” She said as she heard more undead moving on the sides of the church. “This isn’t a shelter, it’s a tomb.” She turned towards the altar. It was old and worn. Old enough, perhaps. Sarah rushed towards it and began to push the smooth stone on top of it away. “I think I know a way out! Help me with this!”

John was still dazed by the ringing bell right next to his ears and the direct impact to his skull from his earlier bravado. Seriously, meeting the princess’ team is nothing but bad luck for him. But there was no time to dwell on it.

If the shouting outside were to be believed, undeads were coming from all direction, and with the sun just about to set, they would not have enough stamina to fend them off. As it stand, the lady in silver is right. The only way for them to possibly survive is to enter the hidden passage underneath the slightly cracked altar.

Having stretched his muscles, John joined the lady in her endeavour to push the not-quite-as-smooth stone off its resting place. It was in this timing that the princess started to ask questions that matters. You know, the usual stuff about how much he knows and if he’s hiding something from them or whatever. A tad bit on the sweet side, but an improvement nonetheless.

“Unfortunately, I know about just as much as you do. Which is next to nothing,” he answered halfheartedly, mind elsewhere at the moment. “Well, I know that there are traces of occult ritual performed right here at the altar, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all going to die if we stay here.”

“... Just pray that whatever lies beyond this slab of stone, is better than what’s lurking outside,” he continued under his breath.

Then, after what felt like infinite pushing and heaving, the altar’s surface ceded, and beyond it, lies a dark stairwell. It was not at all inviting, but someone’s got to enter it sooner or later. And given his equipment and his relative lack of relation with the rest of the team, it was apparent that the job would fall upon John, whether he like it or not.

“Right. I’ll go in first. Whoever comes next, better not stab me in the back.”

Sarah grinned at his statement. Instead she quickly dropped an unlit torch down the stairs. “That should help you out down there.”

“You know, that torch would help us much more if it’s actually lit before you throw it. What am I to you? A dog?” was John’s final sarcasm before he descend into the pitch darkness of the stairwell.

On the outside she could hear the fighting resume. The undead were coming at them in waves. Though Sarah had hoped for more time. In reality, most of those outside the church were as good as dead. “Princess you need to come with us or you’ll die too.” She told Tera. At first there was a myriad of noises coming from outside. Metal hitting metal, flesh hitting stone. Then there was only silence. “We need to go, now!”

Interacting with: @Fetzen

Sighing a little, Bartolomeo finally decided to answer the newly named Andvari as he introduced himself as "Bartolomeo. Bartolomeo Peckish. I am a hunter but... I'll admit I'm kind of new to it. I'm sorry if I'm not my normal self at the moment but... I was apart of the group that traveled to Goldencrest and... well, this is the first time I've... seen so much death in one place before. Still... coming to terms with such vindictive slaughter."

Having admitted to what he was feeling, Bartolomeo didn't bother trying to hide what he was feeling from his expression anymore; He felt tired... confused... still a little sick, even if he was fairly certain that he was past the point of throwing up anymore.

......................................................................................................


Interacting with:@TheDoctor@ghastlyInc@Kitty@Aerandir

Moving the big man onto the floor completed, Draco stood up as he finally decided to ask a very important question. "Are you sure you were attacked by Wendigos? As in plural." Turning to look at the scholorly looking guy who was asking questions about them, he decided to do some filling in on the matter. "Wendigos are created when a human is forced into cannibalism for an extended period of time... normally in an isolated area like a lumber camp or a mine. Somewhere that's easy for a group of people to get stuck with low supplies. However, they tend to be solo hunters by nature; In almost all cases where a group has been forced into cannibalism to survive to the point Wendigos start to develop, the first one to transform either murders everyone else there before they can transform or the humans kill the newly formed Wendigo and that cycle continues until either they are saved, everyone dies before they can transform or one of them successfully turns and murders everyone else."

Taking a deep breath to let that sink in, he finished by saying "It's insanely rare for more then one Wendigo to be in an area. Normally after one establishes itself, it kills off any humans who enter the area afterwards before they have a chance for the food supplies to get low."

Flint groan stopped halfway when his eyes went wide as he realized where he was laying on. His face turning red as a tomato. But before he could say something he was pulled off by some man and laid down on the cold hard floor of the tavern. He looked to the woman who’s lap he was just on and with a wide eyed and hands up as he quickly said “I’m soooo sorry.”

He looked up to Draco who said he shouldn’t attempt that without offering a drink or dinner before doing that. It was clear he was joking about it but he still shook his head as he swore he didn’t mean to do that….as much as he did enjoy the few brief moments on her lap.

He was pulled abruptly from that thought when another guy in a mask crouched down next to him, pulling to the side away from the guy as he suddenly appeared at his side. He gave a confused look, almost forgetting he said Windigo’s a few moments before.

He nodded slowly, as it clicked again. He pushed himself into a sitting position slowly. A wave of nausea swept over him but he simply rested his hand on his face and crouched over with his head down slightly. Probably would have been better to stay laying down.

A moment went by before he collected himself to speak, but the man who pulled him off started to speak once again. Answering a question to someone close by. He took the moment to allow his head to stop spinning.

Bobby decided to pipe in with a growl.Alright ya idjits shut up and let Flint speak. He wanted to hear the answer to Draco’s question. Was there more than one? It was unheard of. Even if there were two, they would kill each other to secure its foodsource. The fact Flint got caught off guard and caused him to run was enough to make him worry.

He glanced over to the kitchen as he noticed Sophie, his wife pop out with a drink in her hand. Making her way over to them. He smiled at her as she was already one step ahead of him. Like always.

Flint looked up to Bobby as he started to speak. “Yeah, i said more than one windigo’s.” Trying to answer both draco and Sanjin at the same time. ”Three of them.”

Bobby shook his head, “You must be confused son, there never is more than one. “

I’m not confused, It's why I barely made it out of there….” He sighed as Sophie, Bobby’s wife, knelt down next to him offering him a drink. ”Here you go dearie...drink this, you will feel better.”

Flint took it without hesitation, Sophie was one who always seemed to have a concoction to make any ailment feel better. Flint knew this and trusted her completely. He drank the entire cup in a few gulps. Coughing afterwards as he wasn’t expecting the nasty after taste of herbs and spices that did not go together. He looked to Sophie who just took the cup with a sly smile. I didn't say it would taste good. before going back to her kitchen.

Alright alright... looking around the room Bobby then said, "Who's ready to go huntin for some windigos?'

A witches murder?

As the dagger twisted, a sickening squelch escaped the wound, followed by the gushing of warm wet blood. It ran freely over the cloth twisted around the daggers hilt and over the hands that bound it, staining all that it touched as it made its way to the earth.
With a final heave the injury was cemented as fatal and the young woman, accused of witchery without evidence, exhaled her last and final breath.
Tearful eyes became empty and void of life, staring up at her attacker. The surprise, shock and fear still evident on her otherwise innocent appearing face.
All of a sudden her womanly frame became too heavy to hold and her body fell ungracefully to the floor. Dropping like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Stealing the dagger from her attackers hands.

And just like that, a woman was murdered and there was supposedly one witch less in the world. The events of Goldencrest had called to all manner of opportunists, want to be hero’s and misinthropes. New bodies began to pile up far from the dead town, ripples of the carnage that occurred. Not too far from this particular encounter lay a man older than most ever become. His robes of a noble nature and his equipment and tools more fancier and complicated than any commoner could ever hope to afford or fathom. Everything was laden in holy symbols and scriptures, written in a language not of this land.

It was foresight that led him on the path to Goldencrest, but alas he was too late, just as he was too late to avoid the arrow that now penetrated his chest.

Despite the intense emotional toll of the situation, the attacker stared blankly back at the lifeless victim, no hint of remorse or sorrow at all. No guilt, fear, recognition or even pride. In fact, no signs of emotion at all.

For reasons unknown the attacker chose to flee. Running from the scene as fast as they could. They left the small dirt road from which they travelled an just ran. No destination or purpose ahead. They ran and ran until they could run no more, putting as much distance behind them as possible. Where they were now, they were not sure. The scenery had all changed. Exhaustion flooded their tired body, before anything else they found a seemingly secluded hiding spot and fell unconscious.

Interacting with:@TheDoctor@ghastlyInc@Kitty@Aerandir

To say that Draco didn't exactly believe the injured hunter on the ground would have been an understatement when he said that it had been a pack of three wendigos that had almost done him in. Wendigos were solitary hunters and tended to kill each other in the rare case where two of them actually met... but if his time as a hunter and his learning about the family histories were to be believed, odd things could happen every once in a while. If you didn't account for the unexpected, the unexpected would claim your life.

As the call for a hunt was given by Bobby, Draco more then happily nodded his head and answered it. "I've hunted one or two wendigos before and I'm happy to do so again. If for no other reason then to try and get to the bottom of the mystery of why it appears that three of the damn things working together." His commitment given, he turned his head to look at the girl with the red hood whom he had been trying to comfort and distract earlier, giving a small gesture to beckon her over as he said "Your brother should be stable enough for you to come sit and talk with him now."

The howls of the wolves upset her children. The summons of Alexina’s pets were able to penetrate even the deepest part of the castle. Caws, howls, and the sob of a woman tried to answer the call of the wolves. But a few soothing words calmed them down, save the creature crying with a voice of a woman. It came from one of the large covered cages in the corner. It pained Ang beyond belief to have to trap her children so. But they sometimes children needed adjustment time, time for their bodies to ‘settle’.

Every inch of Ang’s bed was covered with creatures of feather, fur, skin or something in between. As all children, her’s were soothed by their mothers presents and soon lulled back into a peaceful slumber.

Hardly a half hour passed before a heavy mental thunk riled every one up again. Although this time, her creatures were not to easily soothed. “Alright, I’m getting up my darlings,” she said, standing and brushing all manner of creatures off her naked form.

She reached down and pulled a robe carefully out from under one of the few still snoozing creatures. A great ball of fur with a tail that never stopped moving. The furry creature looked at her with far too human of eyes, before rolling back over and willing itself to sleep. “Really M’love, you’ll have to stop sulking sooner or later,” She muttered, rolling her eyes at her insolent child. Pulling her robe over her shoulders, she left to find something that would satisfy her poor children. Perhaps as snack.

As she opened the door, a few of the more clever, speedy ones followed her out, vanishing into the shadowy corners of the castle. Her eyes watched them flee until they stopped upon the back of a certain warlock, heading down to his own private lair.

“Was that you causing all that trouble m’dear,” Said Ang creeping up behind the man, pressing her chest to his back and sliding her arm around his waist, ignoring the rapidly cooling body in his arms. “Getting up to all sorts of silly mischief? How naughty of you,”

“Are you going to use all of that?” She said, her free hand reaching out to caress the corpses face, her nails tracing a pattern through the blood that was slowly drying.

She didn’t have much use for a corpse for her own magic, but her children were hungry.

Collab

The calloused hand enclosed his own as Taran pulled the hunter to his feet. He didn’t seem like he wanted to end their lives, or he was just unaware of who they were. “It’s fine,” he said quickly. His eyes flashing towards the fog that was starting to cover the very ground they stood on. The alarm in the man’s voice was all the encouragement he needed to flee the scene like a bat out of hell.

Watching the interaction, Celosia retracted the hand she had offered to Taran as he got up on his own. Her eyes fell on a moving shadow in the distance as it was decided that they needed to move again. For now, she’d stick with the hunter and Taran but if the hunter proved to be anymore dangerous she’d either have to kill him or leave. With quick steps, Celosia turned and ran, making sure the others were with her.

The boy seemed frightened enough and immediately took off, somehow forgetting he was holding onto Matrim’s hand and was now dragging him along. The hunter stumbled at first and almost tripped over a root, but was able to barely keep up behind. “Hold on, hold on!” He yelled out to the boy. “Let go of my damn hand, you’re gonna make us both fall over again!” Matrim himself tried to let go, but it was like the boy held him in a death grip.

Tod had been following the two witches, the hair on his back standing on his back as the fog came in the his nose twitched a few times as he sniffed the air. He knew the undead were close and coming closer. With this new hunter that came into the picture though, he couldn’t speak up like he normally could. He growled and whined nervously trying to figure out a way to warn them to get moving. Darting around their legs before they started to run. Following Celosia at first, looking back to see Taran and the man stumble. The man starting to yell at Taran, which only angered Tod.

He darted backwards and ran up Tarans back stopping on his shoulder and growling at the hunter. Quickly glancing at Taran and saying telepathically. “ We have to move Taran. The undead are getting too close”

The hunter’s irritated voice startled the wizard, causing him to lose his footing. He dropped the hunters hand, using his good arm to catch himself on a nearby tree. “S-Sorry,” he gasped, the words struggling to come out. He left out a hiss of pain as the claws of the fox dug into his back. The weight of the creature sending sparks of agony down his arm. What do you think I’m trying to do he hissed mentally.

Hearing a minor commotion and talking behind her, Celosia came to a stop and turned around. She saw the two men talking to each other, Taran leaning on a tree with the fox on his shoulder. She rolled her eyes as she took a step towards them, “We need to keep moving, we are still withi-” Celosia stopped talking as she saw a zombie coming up behind the two.

Rushing forwards and pushing past them, Celosia punched the zombie square in the right side of the jaw. The zombie stumbled backwards before regaining balance and beginning to move towards them again. “We need to move.” She growled out.

Matrim had to regain his balance as the boy released his hand and tried to recover his breath. He heard the strangest noise come from the boy, and looked over to see a fox on his shoulder. The hunter raised an eyebrow, but was then distracted by the girl who punched a zombie that was nearing them. It seemed effective enough, but unfortunately the zombie rose again to follow once more. “If only punching others in the face solved everything…” he muttered wistfully, then stepped forward to clock the zombie in the neck with his quarterstaff. The zombie fell over again, and Matrim finished it off by stomping it in the head. He could see more undead emerging from the fog, catching up to the group. If they got out of the fog, would these undead continue to follow? “Yeah, let’s move,” he said, turning to run.

Chunks of the zombie scattered across the grass as Mat stomped down on its face. All evidence of the human the creature used to be destroyed. And more filtered through the fog. Some little more than skeletal bones with scraps of skin hanging from their arms, like sleeves. Others looked as though they were normal humans, lost in the same fog. Save for their eyes, the blank milky look being a shared trait for all the creatures that still had eyes.

The hunter spoke the unneeded words of moving on. Taran grabbed the fox and tucked under his arm, chasing after the witch and hunter.

The goans of the dead followed them through the trees, never gaining ground but never stopping either. Suddenly the sound of birds and the light of the day crashed through the canopy, halting the fog in its steps. The mist crashing into an invisible wall, building up and then fading away, taking the monsters back to whatever hell they crawl out from.

Taran dropped the fox, his body still tense, ready to feel at the first sign of danger. “I...I think they are...I don’t think they can go this far?” He said, his voice still coming out in pained gasps.

Finally slowing down and coming to a stop, Celosia turned to look at where the fog seemed to stop before looking up to the sky noticing time was running out for her being out and about. She then looked to Taran and the other man. Now the hunter was the main threat, he may have helped them get out of the fog, though they would have managed on their own just fine. But it didn’t matter, not when he was someone who killed people like them for a living. Walking to Taran’s side, she looked to the hunter one more time before looking to him. “We need to go.” She said under her breath. Her instincts were on high alert. Wanting her to run now or attack first.

Matrim breathed heavily as he looked behind them, eyes scanning over the mist. The boy seemed to be correct, the zombies weren’t following them outside. “Maybe, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk to stick around for too long.” He turned and looked over the forest, and a new question surfaced. “Where the hell are we?” His eyes glanced back over at the fox. “Also, is that your pet or something?” He asked, pointing to the fox, to which the fox tilted his head in confusion, his tongue sticking out awkwardly to the side. The hunter had seen people with strange pets before, especially other hunters, but this one seemed...odd.

The sky was darkening quickly now, the shadows reaching their longest point. A tiny sliver of a crest moon rose in the sky. Taran gave a look of confusion towards the urgency in Celosia voice. The danger was gone now, as long that they could lose the hunter quickly, all would be fine. But just bolting now...that would certainly inspire suspicion.

“Uh,” Said Taran, glancing down at the fox at his as the fox looked up at him. “No, he isn’t my pet,” He muttered. “He’s just...followed us,” This area of the woods was unfamiliar, but the mountain he used to guide himself home was near enough. And the land of hunters was always in the opposite way.

“Thank you, thought for helping us...but it is time we...left,” Taran muttered. “If you head that way, a village will come along soon enough,” He didn’t move yet, longing to see the hunter on his way first.

Matrim looked between the two once more. He thought again to why they were in the forest, where the fox came from, and why the girl was suddenly concerned over something and taking glances at him. They were no longer in danger from the undead, now he was the danger. The two physically looked like humans, but they were really wi-

NO! NOT AGAIN! Do NOT think the word.

Matrim’s eyes stared out ahead, and turned to walk away. It took so much to not stop, to not turn and attack. He had helped the things he was meant to kill. Stay in control, look forward. You can’t be sure...you can’t be sure… He didn’t care last time though did he? He wouldn’t give in, not again. Not again.

The figure she’d been following had long vanished ahead of her. He’d had ignored her calls, or perhaps he didn’t hear them. She needed help desperately, the blade that had tried to end her life had left a gaping wound deep in her ribs.

There was the gnawing doubt in her mind she wasn’t going to make it. Seren’s Folly was close...so very close. But her body’s fatigue was growing. Her stomach was empty. It had been so long since she last eaten.

She felt her legs give out and pain shoot through her body a few feet from the edge of town. Blinking back the tears from her eyes, she saw a figure standing not to far, staring into the woods.

“ Can you help me?” she called her voice shaking with pain , standing on a nearly deserted street. There were sounds of activity coming from inside the buildings, keeping the eeriness at bay. “Please….a- a monster attacked my family. They are dying. Please, please, please help,”




“The hunting worlds isn’t as large as some believe. Our parents were acquaintances,” Said Emiliah, watching Flint continue to make a spectacle of himself. Although it had been many years since she had last seen him, his facial features were an instance match to the gangly boy who was constantly chatting up the barmaid.

"Who's ready to go huntin for some windigos?' In an instant, all the weariness faded from her body. This was a chance to actually do something, rather than just bare witness to tragedy. And while she hadn’t personally ever fought a wendigo before, it was clear that many had. Offering her a near fail safe way to become acquainted with this foe.

She reach down to grab for her spear, only to come back empty handed. A sudden nakedness about being just in her civilian clothing sent shivers through her body. She had gotten to comfortable.Stupid It was one of the most important rules, to always be ready for a fight.

“I need to return home to grab my gear,” said Emiliah softly to Lyra. “Come with me? We can look for your 'friend' on the way. He can’t have gone far,”

Interacting: @Ellion and anyone.

---

"Can you help me?" she called, her voice shaking with a deep fear, ignorant of pain as she stood on a nearly deserted street. There were sounds of activity coming from inside the buildings, keeping the eeriness at bay. “Please….a- a monster attacked my family. They are dying. Please, please, please help..."

Sheffield froze as the voice pierced through his thoughts. He turned his back on the woods.

Pain, fear, desperation--these were the feelings he could clearly hear, and incapable of blocking out. There was a person, a girl he saw, bleeding out from a gaping wound-- correction: fatal injury.

It was all decided by then. The young Hunter had lives to save. For the first part of this little act, he pulled out a lighter, a handmade device from a part of a flintlock pistol. In his other hand was a blue sphere; he lit the fuse trailing out of it with a single spark as he ran to the girl, then threw it into the air.

It exploded in the night, a rainbow of trailing sparks as he scooped up the girl. The sound the fireworks roared out should be more than enough to attract anyone. The Hunters in the tavern, in particular, should hear it. Already there were townspeople shouting in surprise nearby.

Sheffield scooped up the girl gently. She was warm, incredibly light, but blood was still dripping down the cobblestones. He hurried back to the tavern, praying the doctor he saw was still there.

"Where?" he whispered to the girl as he tried to keep her steady, fishing out bandages and mercilessly pressing them with one hand into the huge incision. Blood was finally... stopping. "Where is your family?"

---

_{@Ellion@Cryptek12}

For most, there are few moments in life of pure tranquility and peace. Kyzlar had had just managed to find one such. For in that brief sheer moment, he experienced true weightlessness. Soaring through the air, the wind in his face, he was flying, he was free. The enjoyment however was short lived as before his lips could even curl into an appreciative smile it was all over. The tranquility and peace abruptly vanishing.

The once soft sweet cool freedom of air that gently brushed his face was instead viciously and violently replaced by the rough harsh unforgiving cobblestone road. His full weight and body following his face hard, crashing very unceremoniously into the ground. After a short tumble and many scrapes later he came to a stop.

A mix between laughter and a cough sputtered from his mouth. Behind him at the entrance of a large building, two burly men dusted off their hands as they went back inside. Some what now content. People without coin were clearly not welcome in that establishment. Especially those of the smart mouth, I’ll tempered variety.

With no goal or ambition to move from that spot he just lay there for a stretching moment. Drifting between the realms of sleep, consciousness and unconsciousness. This was a defeated man that lay on the floor. Defeated in life, heart and soul. A husk and a shell of his former self. All dreams and hopes long whisking away. Sorrow now clung heavily to the empty wilting frame, the burden and toll for his past transgressions haunting him forever more. No number of tankards of ale could wash it away. He was stuck with it. An all consuming and endless loneliness.

And then... a sound reached his ears waking him from self wallow. ‘Oh shit...’ he thought to himself as with a shaky sigh and wobbly struggle he quickly brought himself to his feet.
Staggering down the street with a somewhat clumsy haste he sought the cause of his dismay. The plea and cries of a child. He was too late. The sky roared and fizzled with sparkling colors as the girl was swept off her feet and taken during the distraction. Without thought and with as much skill and grace as his tired body could muster, he stalked the the rushing man from a distance.

Watching everything go down, Sapphire was getting anxious and just wanting to be with her brother. As soon as he was given a drink by Sophie, Hunt decided to finally lift his head. Once Flint finished the drink she was up and running to her brother as the man she talked to before spoke to her.
"Your brother should be stable enough for you to come sit and talk with him now."

Saph was already basically to them as he said those words. Soon she was tackling her brother to the ground as her arms wrapped around his neck. Barely able to take the words in he had spoken prior to her ‘affectionate tackle’.

“Who's ready to go huntin for some windigos?”

Flint was not expecting to be tackled. Under normal circumstances Saph would not be able to move her older brother an inch. But with him still recovering, she managed to flatten him to the ground. With Flint yelping slightly at the sudden attack.

As she hung onto her brother she perked up at the thought of hunting wendigos. “OOO! I want to go!” Saph exclaimed, already hearing the low growls of disapproval from Hunt across the room.

Mishka and Bobby both turned to her, and while no one heard Mishka, both of them said, “NO.” Bobby hobbled over to them and grabbed Saph by the cloak and lifted her up like one picking up a kitten off of Flint. “You are too young for that Lassy, they are a wee bit to dangerous for you.” He said with a grunt before moving her away and dropping her so she would land on her feet.

Feeling her hood being lifted, she began to flail as her body left the ground. Saph eventually gave up and just pulled her limbs in crossing her arms as she pouted. When she was set down she slumped and dragged her feet as she decided to go and help Sophie in the kitchen.

---

---

Time passed and finally, finally someone took the man of her lap and she felt her face return to normal. Rowyn took a deep breath as she tried to listen to the man talk, but of course her demon was being loud and it was keeping her from focusing.

‘Let me rip him apart! He was too close to somewhere promised to me AND ONLY ME! I DEMAND BLOOD!’

“Will you shut up?!” Rowyn hissed under her breath. Only focusing back into the man speaking on time to hear the call to hunt.

“Who's ready to go huntin for some windigos?”

Standing up, Rowyn grabbed her things and placed it over her shoulder. Once again lifting her skirt to replace her dagger into its holder, ignoring the catcalls and whistles again as she let her skirt fall once again.

“I will join. If he ended up hurt fighting the wendigos then the group will need my help. I need to go restock up on supplies and change into proper attire. Leaving without me would be idiotic.” Rowyn spoke coldly before she turned on her heel and hurried out of the tavern. She began running once out of the building heading straight to the small place she called home.

---

---

Relief filled Celosia’s body as she watched the hunter’s retreating body. She could feel heat traveling through her body as night began to fall. Closing her eyes she let the heat take over as she felt her hair began to change into lava. She felt her hair grow heavier and warmer before the weight disappeared and she was just left with the feeling of lava and well the normal weight of hair. Just this time it was different.

Opening her eyes she looked to Taran as her clothing began to burn away thanks to her hair. Pushing her now long dripping hair in front of her she was able to cover herself as her clothing burnt and fell off. Celosia wrapped her arms around her hair and over her chest, looking down to double check her hair was covering herself. She also noticed that the ground around her was now burning from the lava.

Looking back up, Celosia sighed in annoyance. “Well. Times run out it seems. Luck was just on our side though. Well in one way.”

"I'm sorry." Andvari replied. It was a humble answer and it was expressed with even more humility in its tone. He had seen something burning in the far distance on his way here, but he had never been there himself so far. Honestly it had not even crossed his mind until his arrival here that this observation could be related to such a large-scale desctruction with such a particular cause. The seconds he felt forced to try and imagine the scene described by Bartolomeo were rather uncomfortable to say the least.

The giant's lips parted, but nothing came out until Andvari finally found some words to continue with: "My father was a hunter, at least in his earlier days. He quit the job later on and trained me the best he could, but I never was in the field myself so far." As his eyes told him about the feelings and sickness emerging in the man opposing him Andvari added: "Maybe you should try to talk to somebody -- I'm just not sure if I am the right one."

Then the callout for the Wendigo hunt came and immediately Andvari could sense the dilemma in his head again: According to the original plan of his journey he should not take part in any hunt here. Hell he was even supposed to return to the palace and start acting as a servant again in one piece at some point. On the other hand it would certainly be interesting and instructive. And now as he was sitting here together with Bartolomeo he could hardly resist going for the latter option and join the hunt. What kind of coward would he be if he tried to give advices to other people struggling with recent events caused by their job while he himself didn't even dare to do said job in the first place ?

"Bobby ? If you need someone capable of handling a crossbow to a certain degree I would join!" and Andvari raised his enormous arm just in case Bobby wouldn't be able to hear him. The tone in his words however, by its very design, betrayed the hybrid nature of Andvari's words. They were as much of a solid statement as they were a question if Bobby could use somebody who clearly wasn't at the peak of his training and experience on such an endeavour. Of course he had not taken his crossbow with him, nor any other part of his combat equipment. He simply had not seen the need for it and aside from this... If one saw him one could probably imagine how much more cumbersome things could go if he tried to get that weapon into here as well.

Suddenly she felt arms around her. Her eyes focused for a moment as she was lifted up by a man she didn't know...he was asking her a question of where her family was... they were..no not that way... Despite the clear smell of food that was heavily focused in the area. She struggled as he started moving towards the tavern. No not there.... She didn't feel safe...she needed dads arms... "Nnnu" She said as she started to fight more and more..."D-don't leave dad...Daddy..." She arched her back, despite the pain in her ribs as she reached back to where she came from Almost wiggling out of this man's arms. as he was trying to fish out his bandages. But she resisted, her cloak covering most of her, as he held her in her arms. The blade sticking out still.

She didn't feel safe here. Not without her dad and mom. Adrenaline kicked into her system as realization of what happened now in her eyes. She started to struggle more and more...No She couldn't be here she needed Mom and daddy!

As he asked where her family was she grew more desperate. Starting to get angry that this man didn't understand her mental plight! he couldn't understand her. She didn't want to go to town she needed to get back. "B-back --that way!" She said as she struggled to put the words into her mouth. She nearly fell out of the the mans arms once again as she started trying to escape his grasp. “Dont...no stop...not that way. MOM DAD!” She started to yell. Tears overflowing her eyes. Wincing with every sharp movement and struggle as the knife was still embedded in moved. She reached out as if doing so would pull them back to where they came from, her crying growing louder.
“Help them! NO HELP THEM” She started to lose it. She wanted to be back there. She wanted to be in daddy's arms. But that mean montster….It might have been too late… She started to weep more and fight more untill the man would listen to her plight and take her back, Starting to yell more and more and perhaps draw more unwanted attention if he didnt listen… She saw a man in the distance stumbling in the distance. Towards them, If this man didn’t help her she would get his help. Trying to break free till the man would turn around towards the direction she pleaded to go. “I NEED MOM AND DAD.” She said hystarically.