Collab between Emiliah @ellion and Matrim @TheDoctor

The shot rang out into the night, drawing the eyes of all the living creatures, human and non-human alike. The goblins all froze as they searched the area for the noise making creature.

And Emiliah watched in horror as every single set of eyes narrowed in on the bloody hunter. With a great howl many of the creature took off, towards him. Leaving her to be collateral damage by the stampede.

“Are you trying to die?” she screamed, rushing past the hunter, trying to use what little lead she had on the creatures to not get swept up in their stampede.

Matrim had second thoughts over his decision shooting the man with the crossbow as he had succeeded in getting the goblins around him their complete and undivided attention. The injured huntress did not seem very thankful for the action, and he would agree it was likely not the best idea at the moment. Scrambling to put his pistol away, Matrim held his spear up as the huntress ran past him with the horde behind her.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he muttered, his eyes make a quick head count of the number of little green shits coming for them. Final result: too many. “What the hell brought all these things here?” Matrim yelled out as he turned to follow behind the huntress.

“Like I know, we were going to hunt fucking wendigos and then these creatures started popping up everywhere” In a town as small as Seren’s a little running went a long way. Already the houses would starting to thin and the trees creep up. “And what about you?! You look as though you’ve been running alongside them. So maybe you should be telling me!”

“Running alongside?! I was at Goldencrest, until the damn undead started to show up! Does anyone here even know what the hell is happening over there? Then I was heading here through the forest and...” the realization of the goblins sudden movements started to make sense to Matrim. “The horde got scared from the damned, the fog and the screams must’ve forced some movement.” He wasn’t sure how he didn’t put the events together before, but it made sense now, sort of. “Wait what was that about-”

Matrim was unable to finish his sentence when a goblin who caught up leaped and caught onto his foot, causing the hunter to skid to a stop and stab the goblin who was trying to gnaw into his boot. “Damn goobin’ shitfaced knobs!” he cursed as he shook off the corpse then started running once more. More goblins were closing in, taking advantage of Matrim slowing down.

“Fog? Goblins wouldn’t run from a fog,” Mat’s cures echoed from behind as the man was held up by one of the faster creatures. Emiliah slowed her pace, confliction distorting her face before she finally before stopping. Mat caught up a few second later. “Tell me about the fog now, or I will break your leg and leave you at the mercy of these creatures,” The trees had started to grow closer together and the trail had trickled down to little more than a dirt path.

Matrim looked over at the huntress with a look of bewilderment, but not of the are-you-serious-right-now look and more like the I-have-dealt-with-so-much-shit-right-now-and-you’re-threatening-to-break-my-leg-because-of-fog look. He considered for a moment how this woman would break his leg, stabbing him with her spear would probably much more effective. In either case, it would be best to explain what he knew. “I just arrived in the town, whole place was dead before that, and then a thick fog covered the town and part of the forest, I heard a scream, then the dead started walking so I ran the hell away and found these little green shitstains in my way,” he explained. “That satisfy it for you?” If she was still going to stab him Matrim had his own spear ready to at least take her down with him.

“No...Not even a little,” She growled, her pacing getting significantly slower. “Go left here,” her voice lowering significantly. When Mat didn’t respond the instant she spoke, her shoulder rammed into him, pushing him down into a gully before jumping in after. “This way,” The goblins in front had seen the pair leap from the path and were sure to follow.

Matrim fell over when the huntress rammed into the gully, and got up with a very painful groan. He was quick to follow behind her but heard several goblins drop in from behind. He wanted to yell out an insult, but now was not the best time. Instead as he moved along, he picked up a decently sized rock and hurled it behind him, clocking the closest goblin in the head. Giving a satisfied chuckle, he picked up the pace to catch up to the huntress, trying to ignore the pain from his bleeding wounds. “Couple still following, not sure if the entire pack is though,” he said quietly to her.

Emiliah risked a look back to see less than a dozen of the creature had followed them down the hill. The rest probably thinking they were chasing them. “Twelve, maybe less,” she muttered. “I think we can take them. On the count of three, stop and charge at them….one, two...three,”

Matrim turned on the count, holding his spear forward as he crouched down. There was little need to charge as the goblins quickly caught up to them. It did seem like there was twelve, but glancing at the huntress’ wounds and feeling the blood drip from his own made him a bit concerned. “Lovely,” he grunted as he stabbed the first goblin that leaped at him.

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

At last, the final goblin fell, spewing his black cuts upon the forest floor. Emiliah felt what little strength she had give out, her needs slamming into the dirt, legs unwilling to support her weight anymore “Still alive?” She asked.

“Little shits gave me more bite marks, but still breathing,” Matrim replied, breathing out some sharp, shortened breaths. The slight moment of rest seemed like a mistake as the adrenaline escaped his body and left him feeling crippled. “We...need to get back to town before you lose your arm.” He looked over at the huntress who had fallen over. “Great.” A part of him wanted to just leave her lying there to bleed out and die as he had done so before with others who needed aid, but instead he shook his head. “Guessing you can’t walk?”

“I just- I need a moment,” she mutter, sliding backwards and using her uninjured arm to support her weight.

Matrim leaned against a nearby and slid down to sit onto the ground. “Right, and I’ll sit here patiently until you’re ready to go.” Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he was even in a decent condition to even walk all the back either, let alone try to carry the huntress back if need be.

“If it is inconvenience to you to wait. Please be on your way,” she muttered. “It not like I need someone who shoot a comrade trying to ‘help’ me,”

“I thought the man shot you intentionally! With all the goblins there you’d think he would manage to avoid the single human in that entire crowd,” Matrim threw up his arms for a moment, but shook his head. One more thing you fucked up you idiot, he thought bitterly. “Alright alright, lapse in judgement, hopefully I missed, didn’t see if it landed when all the goblins came running.” He shook his head and looked down at the ground. “Mat by the way, haven’t seen hunters for a long time, sorry I shot the second one I saw.”

Emiliah narrowed her eyes, her hand tightening its grasp on the spear. She allowed the silence to carry on well past the point where she should have said something before finally. “...right,” She took a deep breath before pulling herself up to her feet, all the color leaving her face the moment she did. Her steps wobbled slightly as she use the spear to support her weight. “I’m Emiliah,” She took a step towards the hunter, before her legs gave out again and she slide back down to the earth. Her hands sliding down the shaft of the spear in an attempt to control the fall. “I don’t think...I’m going anywhere any time soon,”

“No, no I don’t think you are…” Matrim muttered, screwing off the spear tip on his own spear and resting the staff on his legs. He didn’t bother trying to get up himself, knowing he’d likely end up having the same results as Emiliah. “If either of us die, let’s say the other was killed by those wendigos you talked about or something, just anything other than goblins or friendly fire.”

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

Flint backed up as he continued to wave the chicken high, causing it to sqwak even more, He used his bow to slap any goblins that got too close, kicking others in the chins as hard as he could to break their jaws. The potion Sophie gave him rejuvenated him enough so he wasn’t woosy anymore, along with the fact of his werewolf blood healing him.

He glanced over to see the girl who healed him making her way towards him with a sword now. Her and the crazy dude from before. She didn’t look too skilled with a sword, as she came over, and he shook his head.

“You are an idiot. Put the chicken back in the coop. You aren’t recovered enough from the wendigos to be trying to play hero right now!”

Flint let out a curse she was doing the exact opposite of what he was trying to do. Getting into the fray with the goblins again. ”God damn it woman. I was trying to get them away from you!” He said, though doubtful she could hear him.

He managed to look at her as she had her thigh bit into. Her eyes turning black as their eyes connected. ”Are you fucking kidding me?” He said as he stomped another Goblin. She started to go on a killing spree, and throwing goblins around. Hopefully others didn’t notice she had a sudden increase in strength and black eyes. Most people tended to freak out at a possession. And normally the person who was possessed was just killed later on. Even if the demon was exercised, because they were more susceptible to possession once again.

As the dog man went into his own frenzy, and Saph was running on rooftops, helping a giant of a man on top. He called out to Mishka, who was staying in the tavern because she hated goblins stench. Mishka! Get out of there right now I need you to help!”

”But they stink! I dont want to bite them!” She whined.

Damnit Mishka! Come out here right now! I need you to lead the Goblins away! You need to take this chicken! He growled as he punched another Goblin away.

Suddenly Mishka was by his side, At the mention of chicken she had jumped through the window Saph did a few minutes before. He knew she would do anything for a chicken. ”No eating...till all the goblins are dead’ He said as he tossed her the chicken. Which she caught by the neck in her mouth. But didn’t bite down. Only making it sqwuak even more loudly. She then started to run around with it, the Goblins all getting distracted and chasing after the wolf now. But Mishka was too fast for them for any to get close enough. Giving the others time to pick off the remaining goblins.

He looked back towards Rowyn to see her walking into a ally alone, dragging a wounded goblin with her. He ran down another ally to cut her off, while not drawing anyones attention so he could deal with her himself. He nocked another arrow, and when she came out of the ally on the other side, he let the arrow fly. Killing the goblin in her grasp.

The thing about wild and ugly situations is that no matter where they happen, they always, always attract onlookers. Case in point- the commotion at the castle's gates had caught the attention of a certain lamia.

"How any timesss must I tell you, Taran?" Saen quipped in a light tone as she ade her way up to the events. "Don't bring usss any strangersss."Then, she saw the girl's injuries being healed by Usoa, and her tone changed completely. "Hold on, an injured witch? And a lava ssspecialist to boot. Well done, Taran. Well done indeed." Turning to Usoa, she asked, "Is there anything I can do to help with the healing? Get usss supplies, try to keep her comfortable." The snake-girl's eyes were full of concern- she didn't want to lose a new member of the coven getting her through the door.

Alexina looked to Celosia, as Taran introduced her. She smiled and gave her a nod, She would have given her a proper greeting, but she noticed Tarans arm. She frowned at seeing him hurt, and was going to say something when Usoa suddenly appeared, telling Taran he knew how to make a splint. She nodded as she agreed, She made sure a while ago he knew how to. She gave him a disapproving look for getting hurt, But it went away as soon as Usoa started to do heal him...in her own extremely creepily way. That was punishment enough for the poor boy as she bit him.

Deciding against saying anything, just glad he was safe now, she turned her attention to Celosia, smiling once again. She opened her mouth when Saen appeared...apparently confused. First saying that Taran brought a stranger to the castle,,,yet thats why she sends him, to bring witches to the coven because even though he was an adorable innocent boy, he still fit better in civilization. She thought Celosia was hurt, but there was no wound on her.

“Are you feeling well Saen? Taran is the one hurt…. And he normally brings new witches to the coven...because I ask him to?” She asked with a concerned tone. But she turned her head finally to Celosia.

“Forgive me, You may just call me Alexina, I’m not big on titles. Welcome to Bloodrose Castle, home to the Bloodrose coven.” She moved towards her, seemingly unafraid of the Lava. She offered her hand to her and smiled. “I hope you will join us here, the forest and surrounding area is becoming more and more dangerous, and we need to help each other in these dangerous times.”

She waved towards the mountainside with the castle behind her. “I know there are many caves and even deep parts of the castle itself you can turn into your own home without worrying about harming others or the building itself.

She looked her in the eyes again, ”Here is a sanctuary for all like us, to live in peace and learn their craft. While our numbers and this castle protect us from the hunters. I only require you to listen to a few rules. If you are interested in staying of course.

Ryleth was almost done with the ritual. Before him laid Angela’s corpse on an altar. The smell of incense hung thick in the crypt’s sanctuary. When he was done saying her last rites he closed the ancient, ever further depreciating tome that laid on the lectern. A twisted, light purple candle sitting on the stand lit up. Ethereal light formed like a thin film on the body, which then rose up from it.

“A final goodbye.” Ryleth said as Angela’s spirit formed before him.

She slowly observed the ethereal form. She tried to touch the ground but she passed straight through. “Let me have my revenge.” Her tone was threatening. As a witch’s spirit she might even be stronger than in her mortal form. Though it’s a fate few witches would truly embrace.

“No.” Ryleth said.

Angela screamed like an actual banshee as she flew through Ryleth towards the stairs behind him. Her spectral form exploded into dust as she hit an invisible barrier in the doorway. Ryleth slowly turned around to face her as she reformed again from the glowing dust. Once again she unleashed a banshee scream. “Unleash me!”

“No.” He repeated with the same, calm voice. “I have sworn an oath as crypt keeper. You know I have. You also know the fate of any Bloodrose Witch.”

“I have on time for phantasms and dark, shared dreams! Vengeance will be mine! Unleash me!” She howled again.

“Silence!” Ryleth’s voice echoed through the sanctuary and beyond. “This mortal world is no longer your concern. I will only ask you once. Are there any last wishes you want to be fulfilled?” It was a tradition. Not all witches had their belongs allocated. Death could come quickly to any witch.

“Murder the Queen!” She demanded.

Ryleth let out a deep sigh. Few witches were ready to die. Even fewer were ready to remain in the Bloodrose crypt. Yet all, with enough time, resigned to their fate. He had spoken with centuries old witches amid the tombs. All said the same. “It will get better.” Ryleth said a final goodbye, before he smothered the candle’s flame with two fingers. Angela’s ethereal form vanished. Behind him, skeletons picked up the wrapped up corpse. Two more took the heavy tomb stone that he had carved in the last hours. The stone was in the likeness of Angela. It would cover the coffin and seal itself shut.

Rather exhausted Ryleth fell into a chair. For the past hours he had been busy preparing Angela’s corpse to be interred in the labyrinthine crypt. Now he had nothing else to distract him.

After a few minutes of hoping he’d find another solution, he too resigned his fate and got up. His skeletons were already moving boxes around. Until one particular one was uncovered. There was nothing special about this box. It had been gathering dust for years now. However, Ryleth cracked it open with great reluctance. Inside were eight crystal flasks. Adorned with polished brass and bronze that remained untouched by time. Despite their master-crafted quality, there was no iron, gold or silver to find on them. When he saw them ancient memories boiled back up. Memories of better times and a kinder world. When Medusa ruled with her iron fist and actually cared about the castle and the coven. A queen that radiated power. It was in the height of those days that he made these flasks. Only they could he get his hands on all the power and resources to make such complicated phylacteries. He took six of them and then ordered the box to be sealed up again. He hoped he’d never need them. They were the last resort after all.

---

The stable doors that led to the courtyard opened up. From the darkness of the stables, an unnaturally dark horse walked. Its fur was not just black. It looked almost as if any light that touched it was consumed. Its scarlet eyes were glowing and mist gathered at its hooves. It was a Nightmare ridden by Ryleth. The creature was no mere enchanted horse. It was a testament to a witch or warlocks strength and knowledge of Dark Magic. His steed slowly approached the gate where apparently quite a few witches were gathering at.

One caught his eye immediately. A naked woman with hair like molten rock. She wasn’t part of the coven. At least not yet. Ryleth kept his cold eyes on her for quite a bit longer. Trying to read and gauge her. Then he noticed Alexina. The sly queen was recruiting while she sends him to slaughter her opponents. How fitting for a leader. Maybe there was something Medusa had taught her. Still, it would not be enough to rectify years of incompetence. Speaking about incompetence: Taran. The joke of a warlock. A boy living in a made-up world. One Alexina now kept him in. For a moment he smiled. A question was answered. Then there was Usoa who apparently now really abandoned any form of morality or clothing. Ryleth did not forget her suggestion for his punishment.

He gave Alexina a small, curt nod as he passed the group. As he passed the gate he ushered the nightmare into a frenzied gallop into the woods. They vanished within moments in the darkness of the trees.

Interactions: Flint@Aerandir, Rowyn@Kitty

Not really giving the academic scholar any answers to his questions, Bartolomeo instead turned his focus towards picking off any goblin that just so happened to get near him... either because they had wandered within range or he had wandered into range of them. He wasn't in any real rush to get anywhere since for the most part other hunters had already moved in to gather the goblins together or break them up from assaulting the general public so he wasn't really in any hurry to get anywhere.

However, taking a slower pace through the chaos afforded a degree of awareness that someone rushing around wouldn't have... such as noticing the odd and interesting... transformation that seemed to have overcome a woman who earlier that evening had proven herself to be more of a healer then a hunter. Granted appearances could be deceiving, but as he watched her fling goblins left and right, he couldn't help but feel like there was a bit more to it then just professionalism.

Interest peaked at this development, Bartolomeo followed the healer as she dragged a goblin that she had personally disarmed (pun very much intended) into a alleyway. Granted he took care not to have her see him and the distraction caused by a wolf carrying a live chicken helped ensure that the goblins didn't give him much in the way of hassle while he did so, intent on seeing how this situation unraveled itself.

Once again, this proved to put him in the perfect spot to witness events that were unfolding. The hunter with the bow that had been tended to by said healer earlier decided to revel himself, shooting an arrow at the one armed goblin that she had been carrying towards what was almost certainly going to be a brutal end. He didn't step forward just yet to join the meeting, but he was almost certainly easy for the bowmen to spot; A simple nod of his head enough to let him know that if the situation went horribly wrong, it wouldn't be a one on one fight.


Interaction: Flint, Mishka @Aerandir

Why did the people he have to work with need to be weird?

It was a question that Draco had asked himself a couple of times in the past when he had needed to work with hunters from outside of the Russ clan, since they tended to be... rather quirky individuals at the best of times. The fact that he had encountered a family of hunters who could speak wolf was... new but far from the strangest thing he had come across so far which honestly started to make him rethink his life.

However, before he could go to far down that rocky road, the call to action was given... in the form of the originally injured hunter throwing a chicken to his pet wolf and having it run around, using the panicking chicken to draw the goblins together. It was honestly a good plan; Considering the strange view of divinity that goblins gave chickens for reasons that would likely never be understood by humans, threatening one of their 'gods' would get there attention in a hurry.

Rather then chase after the man with the bow (assuming he was relocating to get himself into a better position to fire from), Draco made the decision to assist his pet wolf instead. Sure there was no real chance of the goblins chasing the wolf actually catching it, but having hunted intelligent animals like this before it wasn't too difficult to read where the she-wolf was going to go next... and he would make her life easier by ensuring that any rogue goblin that was either lucky enough or cunning enough to try and cut the wolf off rather then chase after her was dealt with shifty in what generally was a bloody mess due to the large, cutting nature of his weapon.

---

The smooth honeyed whisper slid expectantly over soft luscious warm red lips. While gentle, her words did not go unheard.

Things were about to change.
It was in the air, it was in the earth. For they were on both borrowed time and land. But now, their time had come. Noted and unwelcome, things could not continue the way they were. It was something they all understood. This was Alexina’s territory after all and even she as weak willed as she is, wouldn’t stomach trespasser to linger too long on her lands without a blessing.

It was a shame, for the land here was comfortable and had become a home. It was a proper land that had been allowed to flourish under the careful guidance of true born witches. Their camp, resting in the great shadow of the tallest and oldest oak tree of the entire forest, consisting of six mossy huts drawn from the very earth on which they sat, and blended in perfectly with the surrounding foliage. Practically invisible. To the east a great mossy boulder protected their side and owned the area.

Already change had begun...

The sweet playful song of the forest, that uplifting soul soothing tune that seemingly had forever wrung out throughout the clearing, dancing among the shrubbery and plants, circling around the great central tree, the very rhythm of nature’s optimism itself, came to a sudden and abrupt end. It’s presence never more clear until overtaken by an abundant silence. It left in its wake a hollow emptiness and the once beautiful serene clearing already felt a bit duller.

The source of the once beautiful melody, a small spritely blonde pixie like witch, slid down from a young tree far too thin and feeble to hold even her small frame, yet somehow it did.
Worry and concern of those whispered words filled her brilliant innocent big blue eyes. She was the keeper. The personification of child like wonder, curiosity and purity. A speaker to nature and protector of.

Even the near distant fog only a quarter league away, bringing with it the raising dead and other unknown ghastly horrors, did little to concern her as this did. This, this was something else.

Also not pleased with the news, two figures eerily emerge from the shadows in silence. Almost identical in appearance with dark hair and deep eyes, faint features of gender the only thing to separate these identical twins. The scout and messenger.

The lady who spoke whispers was their leader, and therefore responsible for what happens next. A sultry woman appearing in her mid thirties, that is if one could take all the benefits of ageing and none of the drawbacks.
Hiding the concern in her voice she smiles assurance to the fae like child. It was a fruitless exercise.
Turning to the twins she asks.
“Where is the seeker and her slave?”

“Preparing.” They replied in dry unison.

“Very well, we will do the same.”

Hellena never dared tear her gaze away from the window that displayed the forest with the eerie fog still visible around it, eyes swimming in worry. She didn’t even pay much mind to Alexina as she spoke to her, only listening to her words half way on something about the fog having a name and rumors about some Black Knight. Her focus only shifted once Alexina decided to stand by her by the window. She as well had the same look of concern on her face.

Ultimately, she continued to explain how the fog has its own nature of appearing whenever it pleases. Trying to eliminate it would only be the work of the gods. But so will for it to be able to enter coven grounds.
But at the end of Alexina’s last statement, Hellena’s brow perked up in question. How long exactly are “a couple of days”?

“Ahm, m-mistress.” Lucy quietly hissed from the nape of Hellena’s neck as she pointed her little nose at the drenched cloth that her owner still held in her hand. “Ah, right. My apologies.” Hellena uttered as she proceeded to gently wrapped the cloth around Alexina’s hand. “Expect it to heal before you even know it.” And shed a gentle smile at her coven leader and friend.



Mixture after mixture, strange combinations of ingredients one after the other. All results differ, but none of any so far came out with the desired outcome. Upon a big wooden bowl, the last potion mixture Hellena attempted made a dark yellow substance that gave out the sharp smell of burning wood. The smell was quite strong that it’d escape through the small openings of her door as well as her window.

“Well… that doesn’t seem to be the right one, my mistress.” Lucy frowned as Hellena clicked her teeth in frustration. Time passed of gaining extensive knowledge on her potion-making profession, this one sure posed as a challenge for the red headed witch. Demons this time around refused to lend their assistance, because in this case, she is actually helping someone from their sufferings.

“Do you think we need…well,…something like, a piece of her skin or nail…?” Lucy hissed in question to which Hellena shook her head and exhaled from her nostrils in low spirit. “Almost every part of Rebecca is rotting – skin or nails won’t do.” Hellena remarked as she ambled to her open cabinets of glass bottles and jars filled with assorted flowers, dead creatures, fruits, colored liquids and many more. “I feel like if I ever did that, it’d just make it all worse.”

The chamber stayed silent and the only sounds that could be heard were the eerie bolts of thunder outside, glass containers tapping against one another and the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the wide window pane of the chamber. Hellena took her sweet time, rummaging through the stacks of glass jars and wooden pots, being mindful not to let any of it drop to the floor, despite how flooded her mind had already felt. She stood awhile in deep thought with a glass jar filled with red roses soaked in water in her hand, chosen out of complete randomness.

By now, Hellena had completely spaced out, totally sunken into her internal realms of focus to even notice how much the sun had gone down with only it’s light orange hues still visible amongst the dull sky.
Reversing time may be impossible indeed. And with how severely rotted Rebecca’s skin had become, the miracles that Hellena’s potions contain could never comprehend…. almost.

Hellena’s wits just simply refused to give in. What would be the extremities of someone’s doings to be able to reverse aging…? Out of the hope for one last attempt for the day, Hellena carefully opened the glass container of soaked rose that she held in her hand and immediately, a strong whiff of such an alluring scent slapped her across the face.
It was coming from the jar of roses.

Lucy eyed her owner from the table in the middle of the chamber who seemed frozen in place by the cabinets, intensely studying the jar of roses that she held in her hands. It took several minutes for Hellena to come back down to earth, but as soon as she started to approach the table, Lucy could already smell the sweet aroma from a distance away.

“I was just about to ask you for your thoughts, my mistress.”
“Perhaps I kept the roses soaked for a bit too long in there.” Hellena addressed. Lucy slithered from the table up to Hellena’s neck and neared herself to the glass jar. She then took a long whiff of the scent and sighed deeply in euphoria. “Well, it’s certainly done some good. Perhaps we should try that one?”

Lucy didn’t need to ask – Hellena has already been preparing the potion mixture starting from scratch after the previous failed attempt. All odd ingredients that include different kinds of herbs and liquids such as tree sap and milk have been added into the wooden bowl.

In the midst of the process, the rattling and tapping of rain on her window had only grown louder, ultimately disturbing her in her work. But again, it may have served as a good alarm for her to collect water from the pouring rain. Rainwater had been deemed essential to making Hellena’s potions as its elements tend to be much clearer than of river water. It was as if she was really being reminded.

Hellena had then, for the moment, left her potion mixture and collected any found empty jars or containers lying around her chamber. She instructed Lucy to carefully open up the window and soon then placed her jars just by the outside sill of the window where raindrop freely fell. (As Lucy slithered back up to Hellena’s neck)
Just at her clear vision was the forest with the tints of fog still seeping out of it. Hellena could only cross her brows in pure curiosity; venturing into the forest to see what’s going on had already been something she had thought about, but the idea of Alexina’s disapproval is what ultimately halted her from doing so.

Her train of thoughts had been cut by a sudden bright light illuminating just by the castle courtyard. And walking alongside it was Taran. Both Hellena and Lucy loomed in closer from the window to make out a female figure out of the bright light that was actually flowing lava.
The pair watched them receive merry exchanges of warm welcomes from Alexina, Usoa and Saen that came to their aids. “How delightful, we have a guest!” Lucy hissed with excitement to which Hellena simply hummed in approval. Though it had been quite some time since Hellena had interacted with any new people other than her coven brothers and sisters, and so thought that the fate of the new girl would have nothing to do with her and would depend entirely on the ‘flow’ of things. This would also include any possibilities of both of them creating any sort of friendship. Hellena have never been the type to initiate after all.

The pair continued to watch them until one of the jars had reached its fill of raindrops. Hellena turned back to business and left whoever their guest was to Alexina’s hands, taking the small jar of rainwater and leaving the others out until they are filled.
The jar of rainwater was eventually added into the potion mixture and with a little chant, the pair watched as it worked its wonders. The alluring scent of sweet roses only grew stronger and filled every corner of the chamber. The mixture blended into a frothy pinkish cream.

Hellena was rather surprised at the outcome. Potions she had created would result in common forms of liquids, sand, smoke and all of the sort, but a cloudy-like cream substance is deemed to be a first time. It looked quite delightful, it almost looked like sweet strawberry frosting!
“Do you think… that’s the right one?” Lucy uttered in question as she once again loomed in closer to take a big whiff of the sweet scent escaping from the bowl. Hellena’s brow held the same curiosity as it perked up. She allowed an index finger to reach out into the frothy mixture and rubbed it against her thumb – the texture felt rather soothing on the skin! But the more deeply she studied it, the more her satisfaction only dimmed.

“Not yet. But I feel like I’m getting close. Something still seems missing.”

While in total focus towards her unfinished experiment, Hellena’s thoughts were cut by the distant sound of a neighing horse. She clicked her teeth in annoyance and loomed out of the window to find out who the reckless suspect could be.
The sound came from just by the courtyard – a dark, spirit-like horse galloping its way towards the forest with Ryleth riding it, looking as if he was in a hurry.

“Master Ryleth? But didn’t mistress Alexina tell us….”
“He’ll be alright.” Hellena blandly remarked. The bond she held with her coven brother wasn’t what anyone would say as ‘close’. But being quite familiar with the warlock’s wits, passing by a ‘dangerous fog’ would be but a stroll for him.

As the pair watched the warlock disappear from sight, they too decided to turn back to the matter at hand. But as darkness entered the chamber, energies drained and Hellena slumped back into her comfortable sofa, not even realizing sleep engulfing her the moment she closed her eyes.

She was almost out of the alley. Almost to the last stretch that led to the drunk and her home. But then the archer appeared and killed her new toy. Now Rowyn had no goblin to torture and had to deal with this man. He already didn't like this man and now the man had killed the goblin, he was marked for death in Rowyn's eyes.

Unsheathing her sword, Rowyn eyed Flint as she stalked towards him. Her steps slow and calculated, the goblins dead body dragging behind her. When she was only seven feet from him she used her full strength and threw the body of the goblin straight at Flint before charging at him and aiming to tackle him then straddle his body if she was successful, using her knees to pin his arms.

Flint saw the death glare from the demon inside Rowyn. When she pulled her sword he slid his bow over his shoulders. And unsheathed his own sword. He didn’t want to hurt the woman, but he needed to defend himself from the demon. He took a step back to ready himself. He glanced over her shoulder to see a boy hunter nodding to him like he could back him up. Fucking hell that's what he needed, an inexperienced young hunter who probably didn’t know how to properly deal with Demons. He looked to the demon shook his head just slightly, telling him no but not to reveal his position.

This was when the demon decided to throw the body he tried to move to the side, his foot slipping on some blood and guts. The goblin missed him, but Looking up just as it flew over him, he saw her coming in for the tackle. Unbalanced and with the added strength of demon she knocked him over, straddling him and managing to pin his arms. Despite his life being in danger, he couldn’t help but grow red at his situation. Not that she managed to pin him.... but how she was doing it. Her torn pants revealing skin, while a lot of it was bloody.

A low chuckle escaped her lips as she grinned, leaning over Flint, lowering the sword near his neck. “Well would you look at that, you’re blushing. Not used to such an indecent position despite earlier are you?” Rowyn’s eye narrowed on his a bit more as she leaned her body closer to him. “Are you not enjoying this Flint?” His name came out as a slight hiss. Rakshasa didn’t enjoy saying his name but he was playing it up for the time being. “Since you seem to be aware of well… me. And you decided to take my toy away I guess that just leaves you doesn’t it.” Her voice came out as a whisper as she pressed the sword a bit harder against his throat.

Flint narrowed his eyes as the demon spoke through her voice. He didn’t move as she placed a sword to his neck. After her little thing he glanced down at Bart to see Mishka, as smart as ever. Managed to distract him by suddenly running around the building he was hiding. Using the distraction of the horde of goblins that followed right into his path, He looked back up to Rowyn and smiled. He suddenly used his full strength to lift up Rowyn’s left knee, and used the momentum to quickly throw her down another alley. With far more strength than a normal human could use. The blade slicing his neck just barely, but nothing to worry about. He quickly rolled to his side and sprinted away before the boy could see. Rounding the corner before Draco who was chasing Mishka could round the corner as well.

Mishka didn’t even plan to do that, she was just running around as a happy little pup with her future dinner in her jaws. Looking more like a dog playing keep away. When she suddenly came face to face with the boy Bart, she simply jumped over him as the wave of goblins came around the corner.

Bobby rounded the corner just after this. He had followed Bart because he saw him chase after Flint. Not wanting the kid to hurt himself he made sure he followed. Knowing Flint, he probably went to deal with a bigger problem. Something the boy would get in the way of.

When Mishka passed him he looked to see the boy facing the smaller size hoard. ”Wot you doin out here you Idjit!” Bobby bellowed at the young hunter. Personally the thought he was too young to even be out here. He moved forward and swung his ax again, taking a few goblins in a single swing. The ally making a perfect bottleneck to do so.

---

Once hidden he sighed and looked to Rowyn. “Alright, playtime is over Demon.” He said with a growl. He then started an exorcism. But not like any used by any other priest. He didn’t speak latin, which was the norm. But he began to speak in Hebrew. The actual language used by Christ while he taught his gospel.

The strength of Flint surprised Rowyn as she was thrown down a different alley. She skid slightly before rolling and pushing herself onto her feet, sword gripped tightly in her hand as she prepared to attack again. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to begin speaking Hebrew. The words spun in her head, Rakshasa beginning to panic internally as the words were spoken. Rowyn brought her empty hand up gripping her head as Flint spoke. She bent forward, an almost inhuman growl escaping her lips as Rakshasa fought against the exorcism, Rowyn baring her teeth as she growled.

She took a few stumbled steps forward before she removed her hand from her head and looked up at Flint. Her black eyes glaring at him before she charged at him, swinging her sword wildly trying to get him to shut up. Trying to maintain control over the body that didn’t belong to him as the Hebrew words caused him mental anguish. The real Rowyn watching on with hope.

Flint continued to speak as she started to nash her teeth and wail. He didn’t drop his guard though, he dealt with Demons many times before. There were stronger ones out there. As soon as she looked at him again, He knew this was one of the stronger ones. She charged him and he raised his blade to meet hers. Despite the strength Demons had while in a host, which was enough to send any human flying, Flint matched it with his own.

How ever, this did not stop his exorcism. Which caused the demon to lash out even more. Flint parried and dodged his attacks, a few times he was paused in his exorcism as he tried to deal with the demons swordplay, but he would always continue. But then, he managed to duck under a mad swing, moving in closer he wrapped his arm around Rowyn and twisted, pulling her to the ground and pinning her arms. The demon tried to force him off with it’s brute strength. If it were not for Flints own, he would have been tossed like a rag doll.

Rowyn let out an angered scream as she was pinned to the ground. She fought against him trying to free her arms while also attempting to buck her hips to get him off. It was of no use though, the further into the exorcism the harder it was to fight back plus Flint was obviously stronger than a normal man. At this point, Rakshasa appeared to have lost. But he had one last trick to try. Leaning up, she brought her lips to the man’s stopping his words and also attempting to distract him enough to get out of his grip.

Flint was really hoping no one would come around at this point. With her yelling and trying to push him off. He glanced around to just make sure but when he looked back he was surprised when she suddenly was kissing him. Normally when Demons were in women's bodies, they would try to use their bodies to try and distract the hunter. He never had one actually kiss him before though. He was caught off guard as he had to realize this was not the woman, it was the demon. He quickly pulled back, despite the red clearly on his cheeks and quickly finished the exorcism.

He had tried, but Rakshasa still lost. Flint finished the exorcism and he was pulled from Rowyn’s body and was now back in hell. Meanwhile, Rowyn slowly blinked her pitch black eyes returning to her normal golden eyes. She blinked a few more times as the fog in her brain cleared and she was overcome with exhaustion. A few more blinks and she finally remembered and realized the situation going on. Her eyes focused in on Flint hovering above her, pinning her to the ground, his face red at what Rakshasa had just made her do. It was then that her own face turned bright red as she opened her mouth and attempted to stutter out an apology but was too flustered to do so. All Rowyn could really do was stare at Flint, her face bright red, and her mouth slightly agape.

The tension in Flints body went away, upon seeing her eyes return to normal. He loosened his grip slightly but he didn’t move as she looked up to him. Her face red, she tried to say something but stuttered, his face turning an even brighter red as he realized how he was pinning her down once again.

He quickly pulled back to a kneeling position, and quickly asked, “I- uh... are you alright? Ms?” He realized...he never actually got her name.

When he got off her, Rowyn was quick to sit up and bend her knees to the side. “Um… I’m fine… It’s Rowyn.” She looked down at her hands that were in her lap. “T-thank you. For, well you know.” She said softly glancing up at him. She felt awkward and her mind was foggy as she tried to process everything that had just happened. It was then that the panic at him having met her literal demon began to set in. Rowyn was quick to stand up, stumbling from her exhausted limbs as she did so.

“I should, I should go now.” She said weakly taking a step and once again stumbling, cursing Rakshasa in her mind for possessing her. She hated the aftermath of possession, the complete exhaustion. Even if it meant he was absent now for a little while.

Flint nodded, “Of course…” he said as she looked at him. He Sighed and fell back onto his ass, as he started to feel the pain in his arm again. Glancing at it he saw it bleeding through the bandage she put on earlier. He looked up as quickly stood up, He quickly looked around thinking it was a goblin or something, but she then said she had to go and started to stumble towards him.

”Woah woah woah” He said as he stood up, a sudden wave of dizziness affecting his stance, but it quickly passed. ”You need to sit down and rest first. Being possessed by a powerful demon like that can be extremely taxing on your body.” He said, not realizing this was something that she dealt with before. He put his hands up and looked at her with a calming look on his face. ” Don’t worry Rowyn, no one else will find out.” He tried to comfort her. ”I”m Flint by the way.” He said, trying to distract her from leaving.

“No-No… I-I really.... I’m fine. I promise.” Rowyn told him, finally finding the words to say. It was then she felt the pain in her body finally overcoming the adrenaline. A sharp pain in her side while she was attempting to walk past Flint caused her to take a sharp intake of breath and once again stumble as her hand flew to her side. She stumbled almost falling over, until she hit something hard. Removing her hand from her side as she leaned against the hard object showed that her hand was covered in red.

“Fuck.” She muttered as she stood up straight again, finally realizing the hard object she was leaning against was Flint. “S-sorry..” She whispered as she felt her legs grow weak and she collapsed to her knees. Rowyn put a hand to her head only to wince and pull back looking at the wound on her hand as well. Rakshasa really didn’t care what happened to her body half the time he was in control. She guessed as long as she could still give birth then he didn’t care otherwise. “I think I may need help back to my house… I need my medical supplies. I’m sure you probably need some medical attention as well, so it may be mutually benefactory if we went back to my house. Then I could get to helping everyone else quicker as well.”

Flint raised his eyebrow when she said she was fine. But before he could say any more, she fell into him. He caught her, but just so she wouldn’t fall to either side of him, he really didn’t do much as she was already pulling away from him.. Only to fall down once again to her knees.

“Dont worry about it…” Flint said as he knelt down in front of her. “I must admit I’ve never had a girl invite me to her home to get medical supplies. Usually it’s after a few drinks.” He tried to joke with a cheesy grin. ”But I’m fine let's just focus on you for now.” He said as he reached over and wrapped his right arm around her waist. And lifted her effortlessly with just that arm, before sweeping his left arm under her legs to carry her like a bride.

“Probably faster if I just carry you. “ Flint added, ”Where’s your place. He asked as he tried to focus not to hold her so much with his left arm, It burning more now. His dizziness still slightly there but he pushed through it.

Rowyn rolled her eyes and gave Flint a look at his joke before turning slightly pink as he easily picked her up in his arms. She gently wrapped her arms around his neck as she felt uneasy and gave him another pointed look that said ’little warning next time’. She looked away after that as Flint asked where her place was, she glanced around to get her bearings and once she figured it out she released her front arm from his neck, pointing at another alleyway.

“Just through that short alley right there is my street. It will be the third one down the right side. The cleanest looking one of them…” She trailed off. Rowyn knew she didn’t live in the best area and she hoped he wouldn’t say anything. She did keep her place looking the best on the street though, fixing things that broke and keeping windows clean and such.

Flint kept his mouth as a thin line as he noticed her eyes rolling and the tint of pink on her cheeks. Even though her eyes gave him a pointed look, he could feel his own cheeks warm up looking at her gold eyes. Clearing his throat he nodded and started moving towards her home, his eyes keeping watch for any goblins.

As he was walking he noticed the dead drunk laying in the street. He also noted that they were in the Slums, he glanced at Rowyn but said nothing. There were many reasons for people to live there, he was not one to pry.

He allowed her feet to fall but held her waist as he opened her door for her. Giving her the opportunity to walk in herself.

Rowyn shakily walked in, using the wall for support if she needed it. She glanced back at him and nodded her head in a way to let him know it was fine for him to come in. She then turned back and made her way to where her medical desk was with everything she needed, lit the candle on it and got to work.

_{Location(s): Anonymous rooftop in Seren's Folly and the streets below
Interaction(s) with: None}

---

“Mr. Gumpy Wolf ?” Andvari asked, breathing heavily since the pain so far had only become more intense. He was very surprised and equally glad about Saph’s sudden arrival, but the wording intrigued him. “Do you refer to your pet or to a human ?” Actually he would have been more happy about the former since at this point he had had his share with possibly crazy hunters. Animals could be much more reasonable at times, at least if not in particular circumstances.

“If it helps I can tell you that you don’t need to worry about goblins capable of more than the most basic forms of attack. I accidentally hit Emiliah’s hand when she got surprised by a goblin and I decided not to wait if she’d survive the wrestle perfectly well on her own. She hurried away, but then another guy showed up and decided to try and kill me with his rifle at first sight, no questions asked.”

“The big wolf of course! No one is as grumpy as Hunt is, although sometimes Uncle Bobby comes close.” Sapphire walked to the edge of the roof looked down at the last amount of goblins left below them as she listened to the man explain how he got the gunshot wound.

“Hunters shouldn't attack hunters… it was probably a misunderstanding though! Plus you aren't dead so that is a plus!” She cheerily said. Soon a growl was heard before a black shadow darted into the crowd of goblins at the base of the house trying to find a way to the two. “Yay Hunt is here! Do you need anything before I go kill off the rest of the goblins?” the small girl turned and looked to the injured man, the wind ruffling her cloak as she stood on the edge of the roof awaiting his answer.

“Well yeah, still being able to fist that madman into his face definitely is a plus! However that is assuming that my shoulder will ever work properly again” Upon Saph’s question Andvari looked around, primarily at himself, in order to check if there could be even more wrong than he was currently aware of. “I’m afraid I can’t be of much help from up here and as long as I can’t use this, but I think I won’t need any immediate assistance as long as the goblins stay away.”

Having said this, the man’s other hand reached to the piece of clothing underneath his leather armor and he ripped off a chunk of it in order to press it tightly against the entry wound. By now a rather considerable amount of blood had poured out and he had no intent of letting this continue any further.

Sapphire nodded in response before turning to face the street, her back to him. “I will be back when they are all dead.” The girl pulled her hood back up, a grin spreading on her face as she crouched and then jumped off the roof, flipping and landing in the middle of the goblins. There was a short moment of silence as no one moved and the creatures simply stared at her. Then they all seemed to let out a warcry as they charged towards her.

She pulled the same move that she had earlier, bending and spinning, catching goblins with her scythe as she did. But when she stopped her spinning she took a step forward launching some of the goblins into the building across the street. Some of them just launched with the goblins that met the actual blade of the scythe.

At the perfect time Sapphire jumped and landed on Hunt’s back as he ran through the group grabbing a goblin’s head in his jaw and crushing it. He hated the taste of the blood but he was always treated to big juicy pieces of meat by Saph to get the taste out. He may get annoyed with her but she did spoil him.

As she sat on Hunt’s back, Saph glanced back to see how many goblins were left. Not too many. Perfect. “You know what to do Hunt!” She called as she adjusted her legs so she was riding the wolf like a horse and leaned forward, her main arm holding her scythe extending back so the scythe’s blade formed a 90 degree angle in a way with Hunt’s body.

Hunt ran, turning around before running straight at the goblins but on the side so the scythe cut through the midsection of the goblins within the blade’s reach each time they did the maneuver. They did this until the goblins were all dead, Hunt came to a stop and Sapphire hopped off.

Saph was quick to look over her wolf for any injuries. He had a few small cuts from the swords and knives of the goblins but they were shallow and could be easily taken care of. Sapphire herself had a few minor cuts herself, none too deep that would make her brothers, father, mother, Aunt, or Uncle freak out; maybe she did have one or two deeper ones but it was expected when fighting goblins.

“Okay Hunt, just head on back to the tavern. Aunt Sophie will know to give you a big piece of juicy meat from me!” Saph didn’t even wait to hear if he’d reply, causing the wolf to huff and simply sit down as he watched the girl climb her way back up to the roof, using her scythe as the main tool to do so. Hunt would wait for Sapphire before he returned himself, she got into trouble too easily and he was not leaving her alone.

“You still alive up here?” Sapphire asked as she finally pulled herself up onto the roof, placing her scythe in its holder on her back as she approached the man. “I forgot to mention, I’m Sapphire. That’s my name, what’s yours?!”

As Saph was on her way back onto the roof, Andvari was busy raising himself to his full height again. He had wanted to see what was going on below for himself and if he could help somehow, but the fact that the huntress suddenly reappeared could only mean that she was ‘done’ somehow. Still pressing the piece of cloth onto the wound he approached her, then being able to see the mess below on the street.

“Impressive…” was his first reaction, even before telling his name: “I’m Andvari. Andvari Markat, to be precise.” Seeing all the dead goblins and gore below caused his stomach to turn over and while the color in his face turned towards a green-ish hue he was able to hold back his desire to throw up just barely. “I guess cleaning up this will take a while. However I currently can’t even hold a shovel.”

The huge man took a step back away from the edge of the roof, but it was more of a tumbling one. “Do you know if there’s any good healer in this village ? I really could need one once the more critical cases are dealt with. Also… have you seen Emiliah ? I hope she’s still alive!”

“Pleasure to meet you! And to answer your question I know of one really good healer… but last I saw she wasn’t doing so great herself. I know there are a few others, not as good as her though, but they help out when she can’t.” Sapphire mentioned.

“We should get to the street and get back to the tavern. Don’t want you passing out and falling off the roof. As for Emiliah, no I have not seen her. She is quite talented though, so don’t worry bout her.” With that Saph, jumped back down to the street and awaited Andvari. She and Hunt, whom she now noticed had stayed, could offer support to the man as they walked. As ridiculous as it would look, she was stronger than she appeared so she would actually be of some help.

Andvari stepped forward towards the edge of the roof, slowly and carefully. For a brief moment it almost looked as if he’d just topple over the point of no return and fall, but he caught himself, sat down, and then took the much smaller leap from that position. From up close only part of the mess on the streets was in his view, but with much more detail that did not exactly help to make him feel better. Slowly he started moving towards the tavern, but soon his hand reached out for hers for additional support.

Sapphire was quick to grab his hand and put it on her shoulder, Hunt coming up on the other side to provide additional support. “Don’t worry, we got ya.” She informed him as they walked by his side the whole way to the tavern.

Ryleth was approaching the clearing quickly. There was little time to spare. If Phagora arrived before he could finish his business his entire plan would collapse. The witch was powerful but utterly unguided. You couldn’t tell her not to do something. It was impossible. In fact it was the reason why a child had died. But Ryleth wasn’t about to play the blame game. In the end it was his presence that pushed the witches over the edge. Without him the raid would never have happened. So in a way, while he never hurt a child directly he most certainly held some of the blame. In a way, because of him Angela had died. Now he wouldn’t let six other witches perish. He touched the saddlebag next to him, to reassure himself that the phylacteries were all still there.

The Nightmare stopped at a ridge overlooking the clearing. No doubt the witch standing guard would have felt the dark creature's presence already. However now they would no doubt see it’s bright, unnatural red eyes within the darkness. Ryleth dismounted and took five phylacteries from another saddlebag. They were far less ornate as those he had taken out of the crate yet still bore intricate runes chiseled into the delicate crystal. He uncorked each one of the phials. With a howl the phantom sealed within was unleashed in the form of a pale, white cloud gas flying erratically above its vessel. When all five were uncorked the phantoms took a fleeting, humanoid shape. All of them bowed.

“I give you purpose once more.” Ryleth said. “But tonight is different. “But tonight is different. It isn’t a battle. It isn’t a raid. It isn’t a slaughter. For once we are to play the savior.” The ghosts rose and looked at each other confused. “Down in the clearing, there are witches. Some will run. You capture them, alive, at any cost.”

The five spirits bowed once more before they collapsed in a gaseous state and flew into various directions. Ryleth released a sigh. Now the hard part would begin. He knew his servants would fulfill their duty. But could he say the same thing? He fought that doubt as he collected the phylacteries of his servants and placed them within the saddlebags again but he left them uncorked this time. So the spirit could return if required.

Minutes later he arrived at the clearing and dismounted his Nightmare again. With saddlebag in hand, he walked up the present witches. “Leader.” He made a courteous but small bow towards the head witch of the Coven. “I’m afraid I’m the herald of ill winds.”

“Alexina wants you dead.” Ryleth said. “Now she has found a way to kill you. Penitence. Three other witches will be coming soon with the same task. All three of us are bound by blood. You cannot fight me nor them. You know that. I have a solution though.” He held up one of the special, empty phylacteries. “Your body dies but the soul lives on so it can be given another form. I cannot promise you will not suffer but you will live. This is my offer.” Ryleth placed the phylactery on the grass before them and then took a step backward.

But the Warlock was no fool. In the past minutes, before he came down the ridge he had been weaving wards around him to protect him from magic. Almost all attacks would have to break through his arcane shields. Giving him ample time to react. Despite wanting to save them he did not trust these witches. Even though he considered them friends he refused to lower his guard.

Once in the clearing a faint song could be heard resonating from up high in the great tree that overlooked the forest. It was a sad and slow song. Haunting and eerie in its sullen despair. It was a song of mourning and apology.

One witch stood in the clearing. Scantily clad in loose sheer natural coloured fabrics, her hair curly, wild and free, red, but not as red as her plump soft lips. Her body held womanly curves proportionate to her tall height. Her head hung low and unwilling to look at the herald, her eyes remained to the floor. She walked slowly towards Ryleth. Hips swaying with every small step as she slowly neared the phylactery on the grass. Silence consumed her and the forest, only the sorrowful tones of the sad song in the tree above fell to the floor.

_{”I am quite fond of this body.”} she whispers as she looked up to Ryleth and suddenly slams her bare foot down on the crystal container.

Her eyes...

Blood spilled into the earth around her foot.

Shuffling could be heard above.

Her eyes were alive with a fire burning within! Flames lapt at her face escaping her skull through the sockets where eyes should be.

The blood continued to roll out around her foot in an unnaturally growing puddle crawling across the floor.

YARGGHhhhh

A violent scream erupted from the commotion in the tree above him, something approaching fast!

Violent flames leapt from the Witches mouth as she screamed viscous hate at Ryleth in heated reply, giving him her response.

Taran had seen Usoa’s brand of healing a handful of times before, although he had yet to experience it himself. Only those truly desperate or dying would choose her method over simply waiting for nature to heal them.

The pain was like nothing he could have imagined. Muscle pulled away from the bone with a tearing sound not dissimilar to parchment ripping. It was all he could do to stop from screaming was to close his eyes and try to image that he couldn’t feel his arm twisting and expanding. The pain increasing beyond the point that his nerves could comprehend. Then it faded slowly, the pain slowly leeching out of his body.

His legs shook with the effort of supporting his own weight, bile built up at the back of his throat and the urge to vomit filled most of his sense.

“Better?” came Usoa’s voice, echoing slightly and sounding very distant.

“Y-yeah,” gasp Taran finally, the air struggling to find its way into his lungs. The spot in his vision starting to fade as the sharp pain of his arm faded to a strange warmth. Neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

The sound of hoove filled the courtyard as Ryleth took off into the woods on his nightmare of a steed. A haunting final look was all that Taran was left with. He had very little to do with the elder warlock, who had made it very clear that his existence bothered him. Yet he couldn’t think of anything done recently to earn the glare he got. It made his skin crawl in ways worse that what any amount of tentacles could bring.

Shifting his weight he left his arms rubbed against Usoa’s very bare body. The faintly greenish tone of his face faded into a deep red. His body tense, pulling away from the hold of the witch. “Let go,” he said, fighting to keep the rude urgency out of his voice. “ Please”.

Phagora hadn’t noticed at first that Ryleth had left, and the realization threw her into a hurried panic.Not bothering to get any supplies, she grabbed the nearest horse she could find and raced through the gates of Castle Bloodrose, with Sarah and Mary, the other two witches in the raid, hot on her heels.

Eventually, though, the horses just couldn’t keep their pace, and the trio was forced to stop to let them rest. Tying their mounts to a tree by the road, Phagora asked the other two if they had any plans for the attack. “Stealth and secrecy will be the keys to our success, I would think.” commented Mary. “I could open up a portal to Hell, we go through it, and then I create another portal right into their fortress. Could do it from here, in fact.”

Sarah turned to the little demonologist. The pair were a study in contrasts- Sarah stood nearly six feet tall, while Mary couldn’t have been more the four-foot-nine. The former witch had luscious black curls, whereas Mary’s hair was blonde, sparse, and straight. Yet they made a perfect pair in battle- Mary’s infernal summons were quite capable of causing utter terror in a foe, fears that Sarah could use to power her own spells.

“I doubt that would work, Mary. Any sane coven would make certain nothing could enter from there without permission- we already do it back at the Castle. We’d be stuck there with whatever demons are in the area coming for us.” She shook her head in dismay. “No, I say overwhelming power would be our best option. Knock them to the dirt with our strongest spells, and make sure they don’t have a chance to get up.”

“I vote for scouting the situation, personally,” responded Phagora. “Don’t want to get tripped up by surprises.” At that moment, though, there was a large surge of magic that all three witches could feel, about half a mile further down the road. That could only mean one thing- Ryleth had found the other coven, and they had found him, too. “Looks like the decision has been made for us, ladies!” Phagora yelled as she untied the horses for what would probably amount to a cavalry charge. “Let’s go!”

Interactions: Bobby. Mentioning: Flint@Aerandir, Rowyn@Kitty

A more... overconfident hunter might have believed they knew better and joined the fray, assuming that two on one was better then just a one on one fight. An arrogant one might have ignored Flint's small signals out of pride and a desire to prove him wrong. Bartolomeo did neither; He stayed back with the intent to observe.

Of course, with the whole 'goblin invasion' that was happening having a quiet moment to catch one's breath and watch a brawl between hunters wasn't on the agenda for long. A wolf carrying a chicken of all things ran through the alleyway and proudly leaped over his head... followed by a rather sizeable horde of goblins that were chasing after their 'god' with the zealotry of true believers. In the chaos the two humans disappeared, leaving Bartolomeo very much alone and badly out numbered by smaller, more frail foes... but he had seen what had happened to those who had underestimated the horde before.

Before making a strategic withdrawal out of the alleyway, reinforcements arrived in the form of an ex-hunter turned bartender wielding a battleaxe... and insulting him a bit but for the moment that could be forgiven because more important things required his attention.

Under the circumstances and taking advantage of the bottleneck of the alleyway, Bobby's axe was a prime weapon to do some crowd control; Even in the event that a goblin dodged the blade of the axe, they were small and seemingly frail enough that getting smacked by the axe's shaft would knock them down and hurt 'em fairly badly... or at least put them in prime position to be trampled to death by the rest of the goblins surging forward.

That could prove be Bobby's undoing through: Axes as a weapon drew their power from the swing, creating a small opening where the tide of goblins could simply overwhelm the old man through sheer numbers and determination before he could wind up enough strength in a swing to actually get any meaningful effect... the first one they had and in the pursuit of saving their chuckling 'god', they most likely had the second as well.

Rather than abandon Bobby to his fate, Bartolomeo instead took a more... supportive role. Steel blade in one hand and what amounted to a silver club in the other he might have lacked the reach and crowd clearing ability that the axe wielding Bobby did, but while the old man was preparing for the next goblin clearing attack Bartolomeo would dart forward and reward the front running goblins of the wave with either death via sword and club or by being trampled by the rest of the mob of goblins in their haste. He only needed to stall the green skinned bastards for a second or two before ducking back and getting out of the way to avoid being cleaved and giving Bobby a clear crack at thinning the herd.


Interaction: Bobby

Draco's weapon was not designed for clean cuts; It was designed with the intent of inflicting large, deep and ugly wounds on targets that were not only bigger then the average human, but also had a nasty habit of regenerating or simply ignoring lesser injuries completely. Draco was less curving his way through goblins as he was reducing most of their bodies to torn and shredded chunks of flesh and meat and bone shards with the occasional limb surviving the slaughter... as well as bathing the ground around him in goblin blood as he followed the horde that the wolf had gathered behind her.

Rounding a corner into an alleyway the goblins had traveled down, he quickly noticed that he had caught up with the horde... simply because something seemed to have stalled them out a bit. It was hard to see exactly who or what it was due to the carnage that was happening at the other side of the goblin masses, but he believed he recognized the battleaxe that was being used. Continuing to take advantage of the goblin's single minded focus forwards, Draco grinned wickedly under his mask as he made sure his saw-cleaver was fully extended before joining the fray properly by slamming into the rear of their group, hacking and tearing through groups of goblins with each swing with a health spray of blood... but always mindful of the fact that if the Horde turned around to charge him, he would have to pull back or risk being overwhelmed in a green tide.

Rebecca’s bones clicked as she walked up the stairs of Castle Bloodrose. Helena really needed to get to work on that potion- she wanted to feel her flesh again. Andri floated up beside her, his brow starting to furrow. “It sounds like there’s quite a commotion over by the front gate. We should head over there, try to intercept Alexina when things start to die down.”

“Andri, you’ve been around here long enough to know that things never die down around here. I mean, just look at us,” the lich said with an undeserved chuckle at her own awful joke. “Be that as it may, you’re probably right. The sooner we know what Alexina intends to do, the sooner we can start making plans of our own.” With that, Rebecca headed towards the gate, with Andri in tow.

The scene at the castle gate wasn’t pure chaos, but it was as close as the pair were likely to see in their afterlives. Rebecca’s eyes first shot to a strange girl surrounded by molten, but cooling, rock. Another pyromancer, one who was strong enough to melt rock? Rebecca was definitely intrigued.

Speaking of pyromancers, Taran was there too, covered in drying blood with a disturbed look on his face, obviously just healed by Usoa. Rebecca didn’t envy him a bit for going through that particular process- the tentacled witch unnerved her, though she supposed the reverse might well be true, also.

Saen was there as well, and- aha! There was Alexina, presiding over the whole thrice-damned fiasco. Rebecca strode towards her, while still keeping a respectful distance. As she did so, she uttered an incantation, causing Andri to become visible to those whose senses weren’t as finely attuned to spirits as hers. “Greetings, Alexina. I take it you recall Andri, from the old days. We came up here to talk to you, but it seem you have troubles of your own right now. What can we do to be of assistance?”

Celosia watched the interactions with curiosity and then internal disgust as a witch bit Taran and let a tentacle move into his arm. She knew there would be interesting witches at the castle but that was not something she had heard of or seen before, she kept her face neutral despite it though. She then watched as another male witch left on an undead horse, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before he looked to who Taran had introduced as Alexina. The man let of an aura that made Celosia know that she would not like him one bit.

Her attention was drawn back to Alexina as she began to speak, Celosia’s face still neutral as she watched the woman, ignoring the hand offered to her. Celosia wasn’t trying to be rude, but she wasn’t friendly enough to shake hands with the woman who was in charge of the same coven responsible for the death of her town.

“I’m well aware of the forest and the area becoming more dangerous. Your coven is a part of the issue. Slaughtering the innocent for no reason. It is the reason I’m here, is it not? My home’s safety compromised after witches of your coven slaughtered the town I watched over. I do not blame every witch of this coven nor do I blame you fully. Taran did help to ease some of my anger at the coven itself. And I do see benefits to my safety if I were to stay here.” Celosia paused as the heat of the lava around her and of her hair flared up.

“The issue I do have is I know the ones responsible are still alive and I can’t hold myself responsible for any harm that would come to them if I ever see one of them alive while apart of this coven. Which I’m sure goes against some sort of rule you have. But if we are able to come to an understanding around them and me, then maybe I’d be interested in staying. I know the whole coven isn’t bad and making you all my enemy would be my own downfall but so shortly after the slaughter, I can’t say I wouldn’t do so just to rid this world of the ones responsible.” Celosia closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, as she released the breath the extra amount of heat that had flared up cooled back to its original temperature as she reopened her eyes to continue holding eye contact with Alexina. Everything else and everyone else, unimportant to her in the moment.

Collab between Emiliah @ellion and Matrim @TheDoctor

The silence between the pair grew as the sounds of the goblins died down to nothing. Either their fellow huntsmen has gotten the best of the creatures, or the wretches had simply gotten bored and wandered off.

The moon cast an empty light that would soon cast the whole world in an unearthly glow. The giant trees creating shadows that seemed to come alive. Emiliah watched Mat, waiting for him to move. To get help. To something. She tried to voice her concern, but her lips and arm didn’t want to respond properly.

“Oh?” came a voice, entering the gully. “And...what do we have here?” The shadows parted ways as a man entered. He had a build similar to the Digard. Tall, muscular. “ You aren’t long for this world, I wouldn’t wonder,”

Matrim was barely functional as he looked up at the man who approached them. Blood was still seeping from several of his wounds, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he would go unconscious. Both of them were far too wounded at this point to get up and dress their wounds, let alone get up to find help.

This man was likely they’re only source of aid, and they were lucky anyone even found them in the forest this quickly. He would likely be the only person to have found them. He also seemed like a piece-of-shit asswipe leering at two wounded deer. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Matrim spat out, restoring some energy to himself as he did so. “We’re trying to relax here.”

“If that is the case, then perhaps I should leave you too it,” he said, his right hand gesturing towards the sky, two large rings catching the light as he turned to leave the two.

Matrim bit his lip as the man turned to leave, angry at his tongue for all the insults he loved to make. His eyes glanced over at Emiliah, who hadn’t moved in the last few minutes. ““Emiliah?” he asked over tentatively, but received no response. The man was still turned away from them, and Matrim knew he needed to swallow his pride. He would not the factor in another hunter’s death.

“Wait, please wait,” he finally said to the man. “We need help, please help us, damn it all I do not want us to die in this god forsaken forest.”

“Well….since you asked so nicely,” There was the snap of a branch and the world darkened.

----------

The air was filled with a rich aroma of cooking meat. A scent so familiar and soothing, that it lulled Emiliah into true contentment and made it easy to ignore the vague sense of urgency that gnawed at her stomach, competing with a dull hunger. The scent soothed her, keeping her stuck in the place of not sleeping, yet not being fully awake. There was an ache coming from her arm. But that was expected, after all she did get shot in the arm-

Two voice, both male, pulled her from her inbetween state. With a gasp, Emiliah shot straight up, the blankets falling to her side. Her arm was bandaged from from shoulder to wrist. The clothing she wore was soft and simple, but rich in color and well made. And utterly unfamiliar to her. She tried not to think too hard on how they came to be in her condition. The bed she laid was large and by far the most comfortable she’d ever been in.

“Ah, good, you’re awake, I was starting to wonder if you would,”

Mat was sitting at the foot of her bed. The light of day finally showing many of the features that the night had blocked. But she recognized him all the same. The worst of his injuries were treated, but the minor scabs, wounds and scars were visible outside of his clothing. His clothing was similar to hers, night cloths to be sure, but far finer than anything that could be found in Seren. There was a tightness in his muscles that told her he at less of an idea of where they were than herself. And it wasn’t he who spoke. Emiliah followed his gaze to the other side of the room.

The room was large and ornately decorated. A few chairs and a large comfortable looking couch covered a rug that was situated in front of a large, empty fireplace. The voice spoke again, coming from a man resting on the couch. His right arm was draped across the back of the couch, while his left held a goblet of dark liquid. His clothing was impeccable and neatly tailored. His eyes were dark, not black but deep brown. Dark brown hair was nearly styled in the way of the aristocracy “Perhaps, your alertness will take the edge off of your friend,”. His lips held an easy smile and his eyes were upturned, as though he was seconds away from laughter.

Aromull
Surveying the damage
Seren’s Folly, entering into Witches’ Paradise

Aromull had stayed up the entire night after the goblin raid had finally ended, happily assisting with the burning of corpses and clearing of damage. Many others did not seem to enjoy the strange smell that came off the goblin corpses, but Aromull found such a smell quite intriguing. All along the night he took notes on the goblins, noting each and every way one was killed and also kept tab of what damage the goblins had caused.

On Aromull’s assessment of damage he had tallied the damage of seven chicken coops, around twenty buildings damaged, fire damage to a small section of the town, eight deaths, and six people unaccounted for. He likely didn’t have the numbers completely accurate, but they were a start.

As the sun came up the scholar rubbed his forehead as he noticed just how tired he was, and looking down just how dirty his clothing had become with all the dried blood and muck from hauling all the bodies. Well, he supposed it was why he always brought a change of clothing, but he still had some work to do first.

Entering into Witches’ Paradise Aromull slung a pack of goblins weapons he carried over to a small table on the side. Most of the weapons were crude and rudimentary, crafted quickly and cheaply. However, there were some particular items Aromull had taken an interest of, and decided to bring in the entire lot to inspect them.

“Morning everyone,” he said to all in the tavern. “I know yesterday was quite exciting for all of us, if I could just have everyone’s assistance very quickly I’m trying to take account of all missing items and persons. If there’s any hunters we’ve lost I’d like to take note of it.”

Flames fell from the sky, catching every surface in its unnatural lights. The forest was dying, that much was clear. The flames sent from the Seeker scattering across the warlock’s shield and sliding off in waves. Incinerating the ground below and quickly spreading throughout the woods.

A sob broke out across the clearing as the Keeper collapsed to the ground, the illusion that kept the girl hidden failing. She should have been sent away. The girl had always been too gentle too...caring. The Keeper's sobs made way for screams as the flames started to consume her. Too weak or unwilling to save herself.

The battle was far from over, but it was already clear of who the winner would be. For all of the Seekers efforts, it was like watching a child try to fight a bear with a spoon.

“Ryleth,” The Leader’s voice cut across the clearing as she stepped from her own shadow. She didn’t yell, yet the magic she used carried her words to all open ears. “Stop this attack, we are not your enemies, nor do we wish to spend our lives trapped as a tool of yours. Alexina is trying to weaken you and destroy all those who believe as you do. Leave her to suffer, join us and let no more magical blood be wasted on this night,”


There were strangers in their woods. Coming to join the warlock no doubt. The man had passed not so long ago. The flash of magical energy as well as the sounds of battle filled the air. Without warning, energy erupted around the intruding guests.

The twins were not known for their mercy, warning shot or not, it was intended to hurt. Intended to kill or at least slow them down. “You are not welcome here,” muttered the Messenger. “Your friend has failed,”

“You should return home to your mistress, before you meet his fate as well,” Added Scout. Neither of the girls displayed any emotion as they went through their speech. If anything, they sounded bored, or tired. "Women have always been wiser, save yourselves and leave this place,"