Amisra’s triumphant moment was cut short when she felt the orc's massive hands clamp down on her thighs. His grip was like a vise, and the pain shot through her body like a lightning bolt. Her eyes widened in shock as the pressure increased, threatening to crush her bones, and she let out a cry of pain. The world spun around her as the orc's strength proved overpowering.
But then, just as she felt her legs were on the brink of breaking, a surge of shadow energy enveloped her. The shield created by Tanithil's magic formed a protective barrier around her femurs, preventing them from shattering under the immense pressure. While the pain was still intense, it was dulled by the shield, and she managed to avoid the worst of the damage. She could hear her friend speaking, but couldn’t make out the words as she was now focused on the orc and the need to get him to release her. Her hands quickly went to either side of the man’s face as he began to fling her. Her thumbs dug into his eye sockets just before she felt herself go flying.
With a tremendous heave, the orc flung Amisra towards the wall. The impact sent shockwaves of pain through her body, and her vision blurred for a moment as her back and head hit the hard surface. She’d felt the shadow shield scramble to focus its energy on protecting the rest of her body once again and she was thankful for it, but she still hit harder than she’d expected. Stars danced before her eyes, and her head throbbed with the force of the impact. ”Kill the bastard, Tan…” She managed to mumble out as she fought to keep her eyes open as the world spun. Despite her efforts to remain conscious, darkness encroached on the edges of her vision, and her world faded into unconsciousness.
Amisra cries out in pain, but the shadow shield Tanithil put on her moves to focus its energy on keeping her bones from breaking. She uses the split moment of focus to gouge the orcs eyes out before being flung into the wall. The shield scrambles to protect her, but she still hits her head pretty hard. She tells Tan to kill the man before falling unconscious.
ᴛɪᴍᴇ | Late Morning ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Entrance to Roshmi City ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ | Mister Luum @FunnyGuy, Bardulf @Lava Alckon, Rue @Potter, Bowyn @Helo, Brigitte @Tae ᴇQᴜɪᴘᴍᴇɴᴛ | Travel bag with essentials (money, rations, first aid, etc), sapphire pendant, twin daggers. Whether the entire group agreed or not, Zeva was tagging along on their journey. She wasn’t quite comfortable with how guarded some of the members were around her, their concerned gazes feeling cold against her back as they walked further through the forest. The more steps they took, the more the tension seemed to wane, replaced by a growing excitement of what awaited them at the large port city. Her mind flew to other things on the trodden path, reminiscing on her past trips to Roshmi City and what kind of dagger she planned on buying. She never had enough time previously to truly explore the plentiful streets, culture, and sights it had to offer, but she figured it wouldn’t be much different this time either.
King Zanithel’s unpleasant personage was the first to greet the group upon arriving at the city gates; the sun’s rays flashing across the statue’s forehead and beaming into Zeva’s eyes. The statue had been installed there for as long as Zeva could remember, a long standing stain on the demi-human territory. Despite the negative emotions associated with the threatening statue at the city’s gates, the grandeur of everything within made it easy to forget the atrocities of the dark elves that ruled over it. Airships streaked across the skies and people scurried to and fro across the many pathways and streets. The smell of baked goods and cooking wafted through the air from nearby restaurants, stirring rumbles of hunger from the depths of Zeva’s belly.
Mister Luum’s suggestion to split up and explore lit a fire in Zeva’s eyes, who was eager to jump at the chance to do some sightseeing too. “Great idea! Let’s do some groups. I just need, NEED, to get some new daggers.”
As the group pondered this idea, Zeva could see the dark haired man whisper something to Mister Luum, and the faeries whispering amongst themselves too. Her hands reached for a strand of hair and fidgeted with the ends, twirling it between her fingers. She was sure she caught her name in the midst of their hushed voices at some point, emphasizing the feeling of ‘otherness’ that had nabbed at the back of her mind since they began their walk to Roshmi City. It was going to take some work before they would trust a stranger like her, surely.
Abruptly, Zeva jumped upwards and pointed eastwards at a small shop down the road from where the group stood. It was a quaint bakery with inventory on display in glass cases by the street, containing a variety of breads, sweets, and small bites. “That bakery looks so good!” Her attention was, as usual, easily seized, even more so with her growing hunger. “Should we grab something to eat together before we split up?”
Time: Morning Location: Roshmi City Interaction:Brigitte @Tae, Bardulf @Lava Alckon, Rue @Potter, Bowyn @Helo, Zeva @Pink Khione, Brigitte @Tae (optional) Mention: A strange What If scenario. Equipment:Fancy Ring, Cold Ring, Oak Wood Staff!, Brown Leather Fingerless Channeling Gloves (not worn), Transmission Bracelet, 560 Amas. Oh! And Owlbear loot that he hasn't shared
To Mister Luum's pleasure, he found the winter fairies slinking together once more. He assumed the two were discussing how they would run away together and build a delightful home in Yenworth. There they would start their family with over a dozen children flying about, throwing snowballs at one another, and making splendid snow fairy imprints in the freshly fallen snow.
And on the porch watching their children play would be the couple that now whispered and schemed in front of Mister Luum. They'd smile warmly despite their affinity to the cold hand-in-hand as they sat on a rocking bench meant for two. Starfire gliding across the sky would bark fervently as she now found herself free but amongst so many that loved and cared for her. But deep within the home, past the light blue accented living room, through the tidy kitchen, and down the descending staircase was a sight that no one but Mister Luum could imagine.
Bardulf holding a mop with a bucket of gray dirt-filled water sobbed as he heard the delight of his masters. As loud and cheerful as they were, his shackles jangled over their cheers to remind him of what he had become. He can't remember a day he didn't sob or collapse as his body had been reduced to the epitome of malnourishment. The mop seemed to help him stand but the splinters from the poorly built cleaning tool had scarred his palms. He could barely remember what he was mopping on these floorboards since no one ever came but to feed or humiliate him. Perhaps it was to pass the time or maybe the movement just kept him warm since he had been subjected to torn ragged clothing. Hope was beyond him, a dim white light miles away. Barely there, but he was unsure if it would fade away as it escaped his grasp with each passing moment.
After so many hard years, he wished to let go but he knew he had to hang on. For one day, Mister Luum would come to save him.
The perfect escape plan. Mister Luum thought just before Bardulf approached him about being recognized.
“Really? You? No one even knows what you look like, my friend. In fact, most don't even know what your type looks like.” Mister Luum took a brief pause to look at his surroundings for any watchful eyes before continuing. “You don't need a disguise just yet. There's no sense in it. Why burn a bridge the enemy doesn't know of? Just keep using it until they catch on. Then blow the thing sky high, I say. Then they have to find a new one, right? Yes.” He answered for Bardulf before pointing at him and pointing at Zeva who had just discovered a place for the group to fill their bellies.
“Before dashing for food, I pick these two. Sorry, Brigitte.” Mister Luum didn't catch the girl's frown but probably wouldn't have changed his mind either way. “So that leaves the lovebirds, the pegasus, and Brigitte. Perfect, let's fill the bellies shall we.”
With the situation settled down and the group currently gathered were working out what to do next. This afforded Menzai the time needed to meditate; drawing in bits of magic from the surroundings to restore stamina. The pain eased and his breathing became stable allowing him to sit up without need of his right arm which was now resting in his lap.
All the while keeping his ears alert to listen to the surroundings even if his hearing was still partially deaf. If anything private was said by the two unknown fairies then he would tune them out, while his attention was focused around the humans and Phia.
Though badly injured, Menzai was simply grateful to see none have been hurt too much and it was in thanks, mostly due to the brothers.
He had much he wished to discuss, but now was not a good time. How Darius refused to look at him further indication and he could not blame them. For now he left things be; observing as Phia suggested they head back to the village, receiving an approving nod for how she was handling herself.
The group had departed for the village save for the two wolves and Phia who had approached Menzai in the midst of finishing up his meditating.
A slow exhale ending with his eyes opening to peer up at the waving fairy.” You have things weighing on your mind. Please, sit with me and I shall do my best to ease what I can. But only briefly for now.” He motioned towards the ground waiting.
In response to his invitation, Phia slowly lowered herself into the grass at his side into a kneeling position. “How are you feeling… Did I…” Her expression saddened as worry coursed through her. “Did I heal you well enough?” Her fingers wove an intricate dance of nervous energy as her eyes locked onto his. “I know your arm is missing…But perhaps we can find it in the Roc so we can put it back?”
Turning to face her, his usual stoic expression softer and skin previously deathly pale now having some color returned to it. Phia’s concerns were expected and heavy though he remained quiet, letting the frazzled fairy speak her mind first. When mentioning his arm, Menzai shook his head.” I am in pain, but alive. A feat only possible thanks to the humans and your immediate aid.” Shifting in place, the ripped sleeve barely hanging on by a few threads ruffled in an attempt to better hide the injured shoulder from view for her sake.
“ As for my arm…. It was my choice, Phia. So I ask that you not feel guilty for my sake. Time spent on wasted concerns would be better spent working on our individual weaknesses.” Falling silent to let Phia think on his words.
Phia pressed her hands in the grass as she leaned forward, “Menzai. I will carve through its innards relentlessly until I find it. I can do it.” She told him with intense determination. However her gaze softened the more she looked upon him. Gently, she moved forward to wrap her arms around him, “But first maybe we should get you home.”
Before breaking off the hug, she added with a smile out of his view, “And thank you so much for saving me, Menzai. I am forever grateful… And I am sorry for straying away and getting us into this mess. I will do better and make sure none of it is in vain.”
A small smile curved his lips at Phia’s determination and worry for him. It had always been him sitting where Phia was now. Happy to see her grow this much and going strong even after such a horrible incident.
The tired wolf sat there, allowing himself to be hugged, even thankful for the comfort. Again, Menzai shook his head.” No need. The Roc has rightfully earned my arm so it can have it. In exchange, I have glimpsed a new path.” Lifting his right arm to gently pet Phia on the head.” Keep what was said close to your heart and tell the brothers what was discussed here. That and your thanks will be enough for me.”
Phia stared at him and nodded as she replied, “I will respect your decision.” After a pause, she then said, “Those two fairies that fought at our side. I would like to help them find their family.“
At the mention of the two fairies, Menzai sat upright, his hand moving to rest upon his lap once more. His soft expression resuming the stoic neutral nature. ” If that is what you want then I shall work things out with the council.” He then leaned closer, his posture more serious.
“ Just let me say this. Whether they are indeed your family or not. Remember, it has been years since being separated. As such, until certain it is best to be careful around them.” Saying nothing else, not wishing to make Phia emotional or cause a misunderstanding, remembering how that woman reacted with such strong hostility along with that unpleasant stink of blood constantly following her understandably left Menzai cautious of them.
Phia tilted her head like a confused puppy, “Huh? My family?”
Her response had him raise a brow. * Has she not..* Observing her a second longer before shaking the thought away. ” Apologies. My mind is still disrupted though with how you tend to view your friends. The term is just as fitting.” A brief look of amusement etched his features.
There was a pause, then Phia giggled. She really needed to drop her habit of overthinking the words of others. “Oh, okay.” She slowly rose to her feet and reached a hand down toward Menzai. “ Let’s go home?” She softly asked.
Pleased to see his words had the effect he hoped for and shifted back into a comfortable pose.” A kind offer, but there is still a matter of import I must take care of.” Taking hold of her hand, however, making getting to his feet more feasible albeit a bit shaky. “But it will not take long and I will have Ulysses watching over me.” Turning his head over to the large wolf mentioned currently downing a big gulp from his flask. Phia glanced at Ulysses with an eyebrow raise. ” Go on ahead, I shall be following shortly.” A look of concern etched his face this time as he looked back to Phia.” Besides, knowing the situation at hand. Sonia will not be delighted to see the injured Dante and Darius again so soon.” Even now he pictured the ferocious female tearing into them after ending up in the healer’s hall practically every day since they arrived.
A worried sigh left his lips at such a gruesome image. ” They might serve better having you with them. Plus, the Gauravs are likely shaken up still from the attack. Seeing unknown guests might…unsettle them even more.”
“Understood. I will go make sure everything goes smoothly, Menzai… Please be careful not to push yourself hard. “ Phia pivoted on her heels to run after the others, only to slow her movement seconds later. She whirled around, running backward now as she called to him, “ Oh! And I’m really happy you’re okay… And I’m going to make you some dinner tonight!”
Relief filled his heart to see Phia energetic and accepting of his request. Watching her start to make her way after the departed group only to…run the same way only backwards away from him.
Left blinking, the unexpectedness understandably leaving him thrown off. ” Then I can say nothing but assure that I will be there with an empty stomach.”
Time: Several hours ago. Night. Location: Middle fort between the cities of Illuminata and Myriamor
This night at the fort had been like any other for the dark elf troops manning it. Their job was simple; maintain the fort, inspect passing travelers, and deter dangerous wildlife in the area. The responsibility that weighed on those currently stationed for the time being was soon reaching its end as they waited for their relief to arrive and pass the torch to them until the following evening. A mixture of both complacency and anxiousness filled them in their wait, a normal thing. You know the feeling. When you’re impatiently ready to punch out because the last couple of hours of your shift feel abnormally too long. All you can think about is packing up and the first thing you’ll do once you’ve returned to your living quarters. Maybe it’s rest or indulging in your favorite recreation. Whatever it is, it’s all you can think about as the clock winds down to that final minute. No, that final second! That inevitability!
And it was that inevitability that never arrived.
The relief meant to arrive was absent. Perhaps they were running late. Unusual but not an impossibility. It only took one minute for the first soldier to express his irritation at the relief’s failure to arrive.
“They’re supposed to be here already! Any of you up in the towers see them?” The dark elf captain was gruffly pacing as he awaited news from his archers.
“Sir we don’t see anything from the- Do you hear that?” One of the archers on one of the four towers said to another beside him. He stepped closer to the tower’s edge as he heard none other than what he could only describe as the misplaced riff of a guitar beyond the treeline to the west.
“Y-yeah. They’re… here. It's them! THEY’RE HEEEERE!” His cry caused the dark elves stationed at the fort to position themselves on the western side of the fort, and if they couldn't, they certainly had their attention in that direction.
“Do you have eyes on them?!”
“Still scanning! It's getting too loud to make out where it's coming from!” The captain cursed under his breath before shooting a fierce look at the several men on the ground with him.
“Don't just stand there! FIND THEM!” If the music was coming from who the captain was given intelligence on, he felt that he had more than enough troops to end the reign of these terrorists. There were only two of them!
Five of the dark elves hurried from the fort, exiting through the west entrance, vanishing into the brush of the woods. “They chose the wrong night for an attack! We'll execute them as soon… as we…” His voice trailed off as he watched the forest his men disappeared into suddenly alight in violent flames as the music continued. “What the fuck.”
Pressed against the fort's stone wall, hidden in the shadows, a young elf was unleashing a performance on her invisible air guitar, synchronizing her movements with the pulsating music. She bit her lip as she got lost in it for a moment, banging her head subtly. The elf paused what she was doing as everything suddenly lit up, the dark night, suddenly a brilliant glow that overtook her vision and briefly illuminated her form.
She raised her head, the heat washing over her skin as the once quiet landscape became a blazing hellscape. The flames eagerly consumed the woodland before them, the vibrant display of fiery hues dancing wildly in the breeze as smoke billowed up into the sky. The air distorted in the intense heat and the crackling of the fire seemed to intermingle with the music.
The blonde stood transfixed, her face aglow with both awe and exhilaration. A huge grin was plastered on her face at the sight of the bright scorching inferno before her. She marveled at the intensity of the flames, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.
“Thatta boy…” She uttered under her breath with admiration. Then she opened her palm to reveal a disguise ring. Sliding it onto her finger with practiced ease, she invoked its magic, causing her fair complexion to morph into a shade of purple. Her golden locks underwent a transformative shift, darkening into a raven hue that blended seamlessly with the shadows.
With a smirk, she enjoyed the view for just a moment longer before retreating deeper into the shadows. As she moved along the wall, she found the entry point she had prior knowledge of. With nimble fingers, she manipulated the mechanism, allowing her seamless passage through the unguarded entrance. She then slipped in unnoticed.
And the music and flames raged on in opposition to the fort. The dark elves had advanced, attempting to smother the dancing flames with their power over the darkness. Together they managed to forge a safe path through the flames and…
They were supposed to march forward. They intended to do so yet they stopped at the sight of a slumped charred body wearing the armor of their people. The sight wasn't enough as the subtle smell of oil and burning flesh struck their nostrils as if their sense betrayed them. This is why the relief never arrived.
Still, they couldn't remain unmoving as the gap they created between the towering flames began to shut. With vengeance added to the stakes, the group pushed on to reach their adversary. It was unfortunate to have that chance snatched from them.
Through one of the towering columns of flame, a large clawed hand covered in green scales pulled one of the dark elves into the fire. The elf's hollers did little for his companions, only managing to alert them to the sudden flank with his screams.
Lunging through flames wielding a double-bitted battle ax, a towering skull-faced dragonborn let loose his ferocity. His eyes were glowing amber orbs streaking through the dark as he maneuvered swiftly with every swing before unleashing a breath of flame. “Raaaaaaagh!” And still the music and fire raged.
Meanwhile, the rhythmic click of black boots echoed as the raven-haired elf confidently strode, dressed in a standard uniform. The corridors of this place were like old friends to her now, and she navigated them with ease. As she passed guards, she smiled at them and made passing comments to keep up the charade.
The first was an elven woman with a peculiar hairstyle that looked straight out of the depths of a history textbook. She looked up from her post and raised a brow as the unfamiliar female walking down the hall caught her eye. However, the raven-haired young elf was first to speak, passing her casually. “Love the haircut, Elerra. Really brings me back to two centuries ago.”
She smiled and touched her hair, distracted momentarily.
Not a compliment, Elerra, not a compliment.
“...Belgos, how’s that bitch of a wife of yours? … Still a bitch?”
“Still a bitch.” A long-haired dark elf pressed up against the wall confirmed without looking up as he flipped to a new page of his book.
“...Well you know where to find me if you finally get bored of the cunt.” The intruder winked at Belgos with a cheeky grin, even giving him finger guns as she had finally enticed the male into looking up from his book.
Belgo’s eyes narrowed, taking an extra moment to process. “Wait… What?” All he could do was watch her back as she rounded a corner. As she swung the keys pilfered from the Belgos’ belt out of his view, the cool metal glinted in the dim light, and her mischievous grin widened.
“A left and then a right… Then.” She uttered under her breath until she came to a pause before a staircase. “Then we go down.” Descending the steps in haste, she moved down and came to the door. She had a knack for this sort of thing, and her nimble fingers easily navigated the ring of keys until she found the one that fit the lock of the door. As soon as she opened it, she found an obstruction in her path. Someone’s back had been up against the door.
The figure turned around, revealing himself to be a burly guard, his face twisted in anger as he looked down at her from above, “What are you doing here? No one is supposed to come down here, you should know the rules-”
Before the guard could finish his sentence, the raven-haired elf sprang into action, her instincts taking over. With fast reflexes, she lunged forward, aiming her dagger at the guard's neck. The element of surprise was on her side, catching him off guard as he stumbled back, trying to draw his weapon in response.
"Sorry, big guy."
The guard's eyes widened in shock and fury as he tried to defend himself, but the elf was already one step ahead. She danced around his clumsy attempts to strike back. In a swift and fluid motion, she closed the distance between them, exploiting a momentary opening in his defenses. The blade of her dagger found its mark, sinking into the soft flesh of his neck. The guard gasped in pain and disbelief, clutching at the wound as blood began to flow. She swiftly withdrew the dagger and stepped back to shut the door.
“You know,” she began with a cocky grin, “they say curiosity killed the cat, but in your case, it's more like stupidity got you stabbed."
She turned her gaze to the rows of cells on each side of the room, each housing numerous prisoners. A quick mental count gave her a good estimate of twenty. Most of them were demihumans but she did see some other species mixed in. Their eyes fell on her with apprehension. “So… First time, guys?” She asked. It was no surprise that she didn’t get an answer, but she still shrugged and commented, “Tough crowd.” After a moment, she moved forward and grabbed another key ring from the male bleeding out on the ground, and held them up. She jingled them.
“I’m here to break you out.” She spoke a little slower to make sure it sunk in. There was a collective ooh and she grinned at them as she spotted a few smiles. The relief and joy in the eyes of prisoners was something when they realized they were going to be okay was a sight she’d never get tired of. “There’s those pearly whites!” They were to bide their time for approximately ten minutes before making their escape through the back door.
It wasn’t long before the disguised elf was in the main hall of the fort with a crossbow in hand. Though she had to go outside again to retrieve the weapon, it had been hidden strategically. Taking her position atop a balcony, she observed a group of dark elves engaged in a panicked discussion around a table. While she couldn't catch every word, it was clear that their agitation stemmed from the raging fire attack at their perimeter. A sudden thunderous boom from outside added to their tension, making those gathered either lock up or jump in their respective panic. They were in shambles. So fearful of the threat beyond them and completely oblivious to the threat so close.
With a smirk, she lit a match and then lit the tip of her arrow on fire. “Yooohooo!” she called out, her voice ringing through the room, taunting the dark elves below. Their heads all turned toward her in bewilderment. Without waiting for a response, she released the flaming arrow from her crossbow, and it soared through the air, leaving a trail of bright orange behind it. As the flaming arrow struck the table where the dark elves had been gathered, it landed amidst stacks of papers. They caught on fire immediately, and flames began to dance across the surface. Shouts filled the room and they were quick to move for their weapons.
A dark orb flew at her and she side-stepped. She did not relent even as they made a beeline for the stairs to approach her. Swiftly, she notched another arrow, lighting it. This time, she aimed for the heavy curtains that adorned the walls of the chamber. The flaming arrow soared through the air once more, and upon impact, the curtains caught fire. One after another, she ignited and shot her arrows, targeting anything that could fuel the blaze. Drapes, and even the tapestries hanging from the walls all succumbed to the inferno she unleashed. Some of the room's occupants made the wise decision to abandon the room as smoke began to consume it.
The sound of crackling flames was music to her ears.
“You insolent girl!’ A hand gripped her wrist as someone came up from behind her and ripped the ring off her finger. Her dark ponytail transformed into a golden blonde while her skin shifted into a light tone.
“The name’s Mari actually.” She told him softly before dropping her crossbow. She twisted quickly in their grip, a dagger in hand ready to plunge into his chest. He quickly yanked at her hair, causing her to stumble back just before the blade sunk in. Her hands lit up with orange light essence as well as her eyes as she shot a mellow blast of light at him. However, it was enough to cause him to let go of her and push him back. “You do not touch the hair!”
But Mari's triumph was short-lived as another enemy seized the opportunity to strike. From behind, a firm hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her air supply as he picked up the woman in the air.
“Enough.”
Another thunderous boom sounded, this one shaking the fort accompanied by the despairing verberation of crumbling stone…
And the music. The screams.
A crying flailing soldier burst through the doors of the main hall with flames licking at both skin and armor. He scurried forward and fell into the large table, spreading flames onto it as an ominous horned shadow stalked his path. Flames jutted through where he had entered ushering in the horned skull-faced ravager riffing on his battle ax.
Mari was up above, gasping for breath as the world around her seemed to blur. The burly guard's grip tightened, and her attempts to break free were futile as he held her up and whipped his attention to the commotion at hand. Upon the sight of the being that had entered the room, he stared for only a moment before letting go of the blonde. Mari hit the floor with a groan as he bolted down the stairs for the door.
She scrambled to her feet and then rammed her body into the railing of the balcony to call down to the horned being,
“Thraash! That was totally WICKED!”
Without hesitation, Mari gripped the railing firmly, and with a swift, graceful movement, she vaulted her body over it. Dropping down on the fronts of her feet, she dispersed the shock from the landing and maintained her composure. Then, waving smoke out of her face, she informed him, “The prisoners should be on their way out.”
The strumming of the weapon came to a halt upon receiving the information. Thraash's grip on the ax adjusted as the dark elf ran in his direction. He raised the weapon high over his head to perform a powerful downward swing the dark elf was prepared for. A quick grunt escaped the dragonborn before he spat flames at his final target, disorienting him before swinging down with all of his draconic might. The ax buried through metal, flesh, and bone before the dark elf's body was kicked into the burning table to join his fellow guardsman.
“Heh… Fucking solid! We should get our tails out of here ourselves.” Thraash turned from Mari and started for where he had entered. “We can watch the fire eat this bitch up from where I left the Muse Box.”
The two menaces of King Zanithel's Avalia strolled out of the burning structure and were met with the sight of spreading flames and two crumbled guard towers caused by black powder explosions.
This middle fort between Illuminata and Myriamor had been razed.
Time: Late Morning Location: The Nest, Roshmi
The Nest, the most dysfunctional bar in all Avalia thrived with all manner of lowlifes, smelling of the strong brew the establishment provided to anyone who could pay the price. Sometimes the currency was amas and other times it was a good beating for having light pockets. It served as a pitstop for all manner of drunks, thieves, bandits, bounty hunters, and even the most daring adventurers.
The lovely squirrel demi-human bartender Floopa was all smiles as she served her patrons their usual while giving some new blood something special to put them out of sorts. Just like a guild or club, patrons earned their keep. They had to either have a strong stomach or be as vicious as a mother owlbear when others tried to take advantage of their drunkenness. Holding your own and having your wits about you was a requirement, not a suggestion.
For Thraash and Mari, it served as the perfect spot for them to lay low after they caused some serious havoc elsewhere. As the two entered the bar, much of the chattering within the Nest ceased. All eyes were on the pair that entered as if they owned the place.
“The way that chump screamed and hit the table. Solid. Second best kill of the night.”
“He got what he had coming to him! It was so fucking awesome.” Mari replied with a laugh. The two were in the midst of telling each other about the highlights of last night's raid when Thraash noticed he was the only one speaking in the establishment. Mari had taken noticed a bit sooner than him that all eyes had fallen upon them, but she had figured it was because they were immensely attractive individuals.
Looking around the place, the dragonborn walked past the tables and bar stools, his tail whipping about with each step. “Don't worry my fellow degenerates. We come in peace.” He let loose a boisterous cackle as he took a seat on one of the larger stools at the bar.
Before she took a seat at the bar as well, she had spun on her heels and gave the room a pose, hand on her hip. She smiled and winked as if she were a beloved celebrity, gracing them with her presence. “Love my fans!”
Nonchalantly, she climbed up on the stool beside her friend and hit her fists excitedly against the wood of the bar as she called out to the bartender, “Hey fluffy! Maaamaa’s hungry!”
“Heya Mari! And hello to you too Thraash.” Floopa greeted without asking what either of them wanted. She was well-versed in what the duo wanted, which was simple enough. “One 'Normous Yornis Burger with everything with added fried harpy egg, two tankards of mead, and a side of fresh alaberries to-go for the green scales.”
“Solid.”
“And some fowlkin wings and cheesy potatoes for the hungry mama.”
“While I'm preparin' your stuff, you both oughta take a look at the bounty board. Just got updated a couple of hours ago.” She gave the two a knowing look before they looked at one another in unison, grinning.
“Ladies, first.” Thraash teased as he tilted his head toward the board littered with postings.
Mari grinned and hopped off the stool. She hurried over to the board. Immediately, she removed a wanted poster with her and Thraash’s faces and began to crumble it up. Whistling, she craned her neck as she looked it up and down. After maybe fifteen seconds at most, she snatched a paper at random and bounded up to Thraash. She slammed it on the table in front of him and expectantly looked up at him as she gestured to it, “Yeah?”
“Hmmmm…” Thraash studied the bounty poster with narrowed eyes. “We haven't wasted a creature in a while. Why not? There's no price listed but a manticore head'll fetch us a good score of amas.” He traced a clawed finger over the part that references the point of contact for the bounty. “They're here, so no reason to leave it a mystery.” He whipped his head around, spotting a rabbit demihuman leaning on a tabletop with their head buried in her arms. Empty pitchers littered around her. With a low growl from his throat, he got up from his bar stool and marched over with Mari trailing just a step behind him.
“Hey, long-ears!” Despite Thraash's call to her during their approach, the rabbit demi-human didn't budge. Small billows of smoke seeped through his teeth as he towered in front of her table with Mari standing at his side, eyeing the demi-human.
Pounding his fist down on the tabletop a few times in rapid succession, he addressed her again. The pitchers wobbled with one falling over on the table. “Wake the fuck up, long-ears!”
“Easy you’ll break the table.. Again..” Mari advised him lightly but Thraash was already pissed.
“Fuck this. Mari, grab another one! The bitch is piss drunk.” Another guttural growl sounded.
“There’s an easy solution.” With a smirk, she stepped away and then returned with a pitcher of water. Unceremoniously as onlookers stared on, she began to pour it over the girl’s head.
Time: Morning Location: Roshmi City Interactions: Rue@Potter, Bardulf@Lava Alckon, Bridgette@Tae, Mister Luum@FunnyGuy, and Zeva@Pink Khione Equipment:Sword, hunting knife, a backpack with supplies, and a stoat named Raze who naps in the pocket of his vest.
“If you do not wish for us to separate, then we will not.” Bowyn spoke softly to Rue and had only nodded his agreement at the extra attention the pegasus might draw. “We’ll just have to keep ourselves well hidden here. No magic, avoid talking to anyone unless necessary.” He whispered back to Rue. A couple of winter fairies, this far south, could draw too many looks, and without wings, it was a little easier for Bowyn to hide what he was than Rue.
“My main concern is that Zeva will turn us all over to the dark elves if given the chance, and I do not trust Luum to do everything in his power to prevent that.” Bowyn now spoke loudly enough that Zeva and Luum would have no trouble hearing. “And I also wonder how much we can trust a man who cannot even locate his staff to keep proper eyes on Bardulf.” He added, looking from Rue over Mister Luum directly as he spoke. Bowyn had no trouble voicing his distrust, it was a quality he credited with keeping himself alive after all.
“So, Bardulf, can I trust you to silence Zeva, permanently, if you suspect her of any attempt to collude with our enemies?” Bowyn addressed the human, trusting the man’s word on the matter. Bardulf had earned that trust through his willingness to work hard towards their goal, without much complaint, from the moment he’d been summoned to Avalia. If Bardulf was comfortable with the argument Luum had suggested, then Bowyn had no further argument over it. “You can think it over, let us know after lunch.” He added, gesturing to himself and to Rue, making it clear that neither he nor Rue would be leaving the human’s side if Bardulf was in any way uncomfortable with it. Bardulf’s life hung just as, if not more, perilously as Rue’s or Bowyn’s should either elf let them down.
“I bet that bakery has honey toast.” He turned his attention back to Rue, figuring the mention of a favored food would relieve some of the stress of being in such a crowded city. He then reached into his pocket to rouse the stoat he assumed was sleeping there only to find his pocket now empty.
“Raze? He called the stoat’s name, slightly confused. “Food time! He spoke the other word the stoat knew better than his own name, assuming wherever the mischievous creature had wound up, he’d come running for food.
The stoat’s head popped up out of the bag Zeva carried, his cheeks full and puffy as he fervently chewed at whatever was in his mouth in an attempt to hide the evidence. A pair of beady eye’s looked innocently from Bowyn to Rue as Raze continued his chewing. Raze licked his mouth and front paws once his mouth was again empty. “Food?” The stoat repeated the word with unmatchable enthusiasm. “Food, where?”
“You just ate.” Bowyn accused the not quite a pet.
“No.” Raze insisted. Then the stoat’s head disappeared back into Zeva’s bag only to pop back up a moment later with an ama between his teeth. “Found shinies!” Raze insisted as if he was doing something helpful rather than stealing mouthfuls of rations.
“Well look at that Rue, we’re rich now, he’s got a whole ama for us.” Bowyn added kleptomaniac stoat to his list of things that could possibly cause trouble for them in Roshmi City.
Time: Morning Location: Forest; Near Gaurav Village Interactions: Viola@13org, Phia@princess, Darius@FunnyGuy, Dante@Alivefalling, Menzai@samreaper Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.
“Maybe, but we will explain that we are family and that our intentions are not to hurt Phia, only to make sure she is happy and to get to know her again as long she wants that as well. If he cares enough to sacrifice himself for her, he cares enough not to stand in the way of that.” Cyrus organized his thoughts aloud to his sister. The now one-armed wolf clearly cared deeply for Phia, and the rest of his pack seemed to as well, so he couldn’t imagine they would want her to believe her whole family was gone or to actively work to keep her away from them.
“Are you alright with us accompanying them to their village? I am sure Phia will return there when she is finished speaking with her friend.” Cyrus asked Viola as he watched Phia head off to speak with Menzai. So long as Viola was still comfortable venturing into the village after the unprovoked threats from the wolves, he would follow them to the village as well.
As the man Darius introduced himself, Cyrus did the same; the fairy placed a hand over his heart and bowed respectfully. “Cyrus. A pleasure to meet you Darius, and Dante as well. You both fought well, with ingenuity. We thank you for your help.” He complimented the pair but said nothing about their strange abilities. It made sense that the two were brothers, the way they argued with each other while clearly caring deeply showed their relationship without words.
“Would like help?” He asked as Darius supported the exhausted Dante. If Darius accepted, Cyrus would help support Dante as they walked back to the village of the wolves.
Time: Breakfast time! Location: River Port; Malachi’s mom’s house Interactions: Malachi@princess, Jun@JJ Doe, Enstille@GingerBobOh, Kenia@Tae Equipment: A halberd, (always with him) hunting knife, and half-plate armor (left in the room).
“I have not yet tried the cheesy tuna sandwich. Perhaps we can all go there for lunch!” Zion wasted no time in shoveling bite after bite of cold eggs into his mouth, and though he talked as he ate, he was careful enough not to let a morsel escape his active maw. It helped that he rarely chewed at the eggs. Table manners were not a consideration to the near wild catfolk he hailed from, and he often forgot Malachi’s frequent instance of eating with his mouth closed. Especially when he was excited and talking about food, while eating food, made him happier than a cat napping in a sun patch.
“You are an adventurer as well!” Zion’s excitement continued to build, his tail swished as fur bristled. “Yes, I can see it.” His fist slammed onto the table with enthusiasm and the dishes on the table rattled. “Or rather hear the lack of it, Kenia you walk with near-silent footsteps and I have excellent ears. Stealth is your game is it not?” He asked, further studying the way the elf carried herself. She was small, like Jun, but clearly better muscled and so the lion decided Kenia might make for an excellent teacher for the human. Jun had certainly spent all week trying to improve his stealthiness.
And it was just as Zion was thinking of the human, and loudly chowing down on bacon and breakfast sausage, that human returned. Without Malachi, who apparently had run off into the woods. Zion set the plate he was holding back down and watched Jun, his ears flattened some in mild distress.
They weren’t supposed to leave the human unsupervised. But Malachi had run away from Jun leaving the human alone. Why would he do that if it wasn’t an emergency? But Jun didn’t seem concerned. The lion's brow furrowed. Why would Malachi run in the opposite direction of breakfast? Did the elf want to get in some cardio before eating?
“Why did Malachi run into the woods?” He asked Jun. “And why would you let him go alone?” Even under the best circumstances the woods held dangerous creatures that could attack with very little warning. If Malachi had gone for a run, Zion decided it was best for him to join the elf unless Jun offered a good reason for Malachi to have gone off alone.
Time: Late Morning Location: The Nest, Roshmi Interactions: Mari @princess, Thrash @funnyguy Current Equipment:
, mithril breastplate with Deflection enchantment, Strength enchantment gloves, adventuring clothes, large survival backpack, two large red potions, three pink potions, two black potions, cooking pot, portable fira, teeth cleanser, body cleanser, time teller, darksight glasses, travel shelter, portable bed, small pillow, lantern, flask, rope, wayfinder, fire starter kit.
The muffled noises of voices in the bar filled her head. Aerilyn was slumped over at a table in the corner, she was a portrait of inebriation, surrounded by vacant pitchers and a half-filled mug of ale lingering at her side in the dim recesses of The Nest. ‘I hate this, I don’t want to continue. Everyone I get to know dies or leaves. I always get myself into the worst bullshit, then I just end up doing the same shit to get out.’ Aerilyn’s thoughts only made her feel worse. 'Will anyone even answer the bounty I've put out? And if they do, what guarantees they won't meet the same grim fate as the others? Those goblins, such behavior is beyond any I've witnessed before.’ Her mind wavered as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Aerilyn was lost until two voices broke through much clearer than the muffled chatter in the bar.
“Wake the fuck up, long-ears!” A deep male voice shouted.
‘Leave me alone, just let me die here.’ Aerilyn muttered to herself.
“Easy, you’ll break the table.. Again..” replied a female voice.
“Fuck this. Mari, grab another one! The bitch is piss drunk,” the male voice retorted.
“There’s an easy solution.”
Aerilyn's senses snapped into stark focus, and she jolted back to sobriety as if struck by an icy avalanche. The shock of ice-cold water drenched her hair and clothes, trickling through the gaps between the planks of the table. With an instinctual surge of adrenaline, Aerilyn poised upright, her hand darting beneath the table to grasp her hammer. Swift as a striking serpent, the hammer emerged, raised in her grip, and she swung it between the two in front of her table. The wooden table splintered, shattered, and the hammer's force drove it into the ground, creating a ripple of kinetic energy that pulsed through the vicinity. "WHO THE FUCK DARED TO POUR WATER ON ME?!?!" Her enraged outcry shattered the ambient hum of chatter, seizing the attention of the entire tavern. Amidst the chaos, a familiar voice sliced through the maelstrom. "Did you just obliterate my bloody table?!" Floofa's indignant protest silenced the room even more. “I will pay for it, Floofa, don't ya worry your little heart.” Aerilyn's response was spirited and upbeat, a sudden transformation like a storm-cloud parting to reveal the sun. In an instant, her demeanor had shifted. “You two looking for something?” Aerilyn smiled and giggled at the green Dragonborn and the light Elf girl now with their asses on the bar floor from the shockwave her hammer had made with the impact.
Time: Morning Location: River Port Interactions: Zion @Helo, Enstille @GingerBobOh, Jun @JJ Doe Mentions: Malachi @princess Equipment:
Kenia chuckled at Zion's enthusiastic response to the idea of trying the cheesy tuna sandwich. His excitement was contagious, and she found herself genuinely looking forward to the prospect of sharing a meal at Seafood Sensations. "That sounds like a fantastic idea! I mean as long as your other two companions are okay with that."
As Zion's excitement bubbled over, she couldn't help but be charmed by his energy. His ability to perceive her stealthiness was certainly impressive, and she nodded with a warm smile. "You have a keen observation, Zion. Stealth has indeed been a skill I've honed over time. There's a certain thrill in moving unnoticed and mastering the art of surprise."
Just as the conversation flowed smoothly, Jun's entrance brought a shift in the atmosphere. Kenia turned her attention to the human, noting his flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled appearance. His mention of Malachi running off into the woods caught her by surprise, and she exchanged a quick glance with Zion as the lion questioned Jun about the situation. In the back of her mind, Kenia had a brief thought of how lucky this could be for her. That fool, well perhaps he'll get himself killed and it'll be easier to get welcomed into this group. Though helping save him could also be an in…decisions, decisions. She had to admit, it would be easier to just let him get eaten, but she'd also just admitted to being an adventurer and it might look suspicious if she didn't offer to help.
She leaned forward slightly, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Is it normal for Malachi to do this? There are many dangers in the forest, perhaps we should go make sure he's okay? I'd be happy to offer my assistance in any way I can." Kenia suggested as she looked to Zion and Enstille.
Time: MORNING Location: INT. MAMA MALACHI'S SUMMERHOUSE - RIVER PORT Interactions/Mentions: The golden lion furry @Helo; The lady in a purple dress @Tae; The other guy who’s also cosplaying as an elf @GingerBobOh; The guy cosplaying as an elf @princess Equipment:
⋆ Attire from Earth ⋆ Backpack ⋆ Smartphone ⋆ Wallet and key ⋆ Computer ⋆ Headphones ⋆ Spare eyeglasses ⋆ Plastic bag ⋆ Letter
Jun raised his head from his breakfast. He kept his gaze fixed on the snout, afraid of getting burnt by the disappointment in Zion's eyes.
"Why wouldn't I?" What about the past week gave the impression that Jun wanted to hang out with his captors (at the risk of Stockholm syndrome setting in)? And really, "It's not like I'd be any help."
When the new lady spoke, he stared at her toned arms to avoid eye-contact. The "random-friendly-neighbor-who-dropped-by-to-say-hello" was better built than he was—not that that was saying much. Anything, even a leaf blowing in the gentle breeze, could easily take Jun down. Honestly, a dying man had better odds of survival than he did.
He nodded at the lady's suggestion. "I’m sure he'd appreciate the extra help." Glancing around at the group, he considered the composition of their team for the first time. They hadn't encountered combat yet, but their party build seemed decent enough. "You got a heavy hitting warrior, two mages—one focused on defense, one on offense—, and now a rogue who can switch roles if…" He paused and looked at the purple dress lady again. "Actually, are you a bard? Or maybe you're more of an assassin?" If the latter, they had a DPS heavy party. That would mean Enstille was their primary source for party buffs. "You'll have to make sure no one targets Enstille… but I think it should be fine if you guys stick together." Especially if the GMs were level scaling. Jun's stats alone should tank the enemy's level to 1. Unless they scale based on the strongest player. Then he'd be screwed. But, he'd also be the only liability. The fight should go smoothly for the others.
His mind drifted as he wondered how combat mechanics worked in Avalia compared to MMOs.
Jun agreed that the others should go help Malachi.
Time: Morning Location: Roshmi City Interactions:@Helo Bowyn ❄ @Lava Alckon Bardulf ❄ @FunnyGuy Mister Luum ❄ @Tae Brigette ❄ @Pink Khione Zeva Mentions: Equipment: Small backpack, two knives, bow and arrow, rations, water flask, hygiene products, polearm, outfit
The situation became less ideal when Mister Luum announced his pick for the group. Her gaze remained glued to him. Taking both Bardulkf and Zeva caused her stomach to churn. It was not worth the argument, so she remained quiet. There was a silver lining; she remained with Bowyn, and they had an opportunity now to pick Brigette’s mind. The girl struck Rue as odd; her demeanor was sweet and kind, however something felt off. Rue could not place it, but she decided it was best to speak privately to Bowyn.
Her gaze moved to the cafe Zeva pointed out. There was no way Starfire would be able to come. She felt as though she’d been dunked in ice cold water; what if someone recognized the runaway pegasus? What if someone took her away? Rue knew their time was borrowed, yet the idea haunted her every day. Her wings fluttered quietly and Starfire turned to face her.
”Rue?” Star inquired. She came over and rested her head on Rue’s shoulder comfortingly. Their gazes met as Rue rested her head on her’s and patted her neck.
”We’re going to eat in the cafe. Please… Please stay hidden in the woods. I’ll whistle for you when we’re finished. Just… Hide yourself. Okay?”
Star huffed and glanced over at the woods. ”Whatever. Just bring me back something good. And don’t worry, I won’t do anything reckless.”
Rue smiled and moved away from Star after giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. ”Good girl. And if anything happens, if you get approached by anyone, I give you permission to kick their hineys.”
Star whinnied with amusement and took off back to the woods to hide. With her now safely away, Rue turned to Bowyn now and listened carefully. She sighed in relief at his agreement to not separate. The fact they were both wanted and were in one of the most dangerous cities had her on edge. His voice however, was enough to help soothe her. ”I agree, and I think we should both get disguise rings too. Just to be on the safe side….” She trailed off as he continued speaking and gulped.
What if something happened to the trio without them? Would Bardulf contain himself or give himself away with his power? Would Zeva chicken out? Rue took steady breaths to calm herself. They would be fine. It would work out. Everyone would be safe… Then, the seriousness of the situation reminded her what was occurring. She faced Bardulf and nodded in agreement to what Bowyn said. Rue would protect the human, no matter what, although she blanched at the idea of unnecessary violence. However, the human’s life was important, and Rue would not let him down, nor Bowyn and Starfire as well.
She was lost in thought briefly, until the mention of honey toast broke her reverie. Her eyes widened with anticipation as she eyed the cafe hungrily. Honey Toast! I haven’t had any in so long!! A brief smile cut through her tension as her expression lit up. Rue grinned up at Bowyn with an ear-to-ear grin. His conversation with Raze caused laughter to bubble from her.
"A klepto indeed. What a pair you both are," Rue replied as she watched with amusement. "Hopefully he can withhold his.. desires while we're in the city." She reached over to pet the stoat gently and smiled sweetly at Bowyn.
Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Interactions/Mentions: Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Amisra @Tae, Arlen @SilverPaw, & Thugs @princess Equipment: A set of sturdy clothing, a dagger, the wonky ring of disguise that enlarges the ears of the user, and his dog tags.
Ismael was sent flying, his feint seemed to have been seen through as he was sent flying by some strange force. Ismael couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of what just happened, the pain was minimal when all was said and done, but what was strange was this deep sense of dread. Ismael could not understand where the feeling stemmed from, he did not understand why this dread began to overwhelm him. Was it the fear of death? Was it the fear of falling?
It did not matter, as Ismael felt himself tumbling through the air, and if it happened he fell badly he'd be dead for sure. Up and down did not seem easy to see to understand, left and right could not matter, all Ismael felt was his body tumbling, however, he could not let himself land on anything but his feet, as he began to stick his hand out he felt the ground touch his fingertips as he pushed as hard as he could and felt his momentum change, as he felt himself change into a much more predictable tumble, something he can try to land from. He felt himself tumbling through the air as stuck his foot out, touching the ground as he began to roll backward. Tumbling once more, Imsael felt his body land hard, now he was tumbling on the ground. He felt the stone on his back, his shoulder, yet he continued until he felt his feet hit the ground again as he stopped himself in a crouch, with his left hand leaning him forward, he had his right-hand sweeping back, holding the knife.
Ismael knew he could not close the distance again, not before taking a bullet, so he did what he could, with his arm back Ismael brought his body up as he threw his dagger, he aimed to kill the man, if not, he prayed it bought him the second he needed to dodge, as Ismael tried to scramble to his feet to prepare for such an eventuality.
Ismael was launched flying by the Leading Dark elf as he was able to land with mostly minor injuries as he took his blade and threw it at the leading dark elf to try and kill him. If not, make the man hesitate and buy Ismael enough time to prepare to dodge the man who would most likely try and shoot him.
Time: Morning Location: Forest near Guarav Village Interactions: Cyrus @Helo, Ophelia @princess, Dante @FunnyGuy Darius @Samreaper Menzai Equipment:
Cannot break or become dull.
243 Amas
Viola nodded in silence as she heard Cyrus' words, agreeing with him. The whole idea that Ophelia she once knew might be truly gone and that they would need to get to 'know' her again was still something Viola found difficult to accept, bringing many mixed feelings about whether Ophelia had truly abandoned and forgotten about her or not.
"Both the wounded wolf and Ophelia... don't seem to display any hostility towards us. As long as they are around, no more problems should arise." Viola replied after Cyrus asked if she was okay with following them back to their village. Even though Viola didn't trust the other wolves, the authority the wounded wolf had over them was evident with the few words he spoke. Besides... Everyone present seemed to value Ophelia's opinions too much to just ignore her.
Despite being both exhausted, the two men who were disguised as elves still approached them to introduce themselves. The one to speak was the younger one, Darius, who was carrying his exhausted older brother, Dante after both displayed such powerful magic. While their magic was certainly powerful, the way they exhausted themselves after using too much of it hinted towards them not being experienced with controlling and using their own powers.
"Viola. We are thankful... for your assistance." Viola said to Darius, introducing herself.
Unlike her brother Cypress who quickly offered to help Darius to carry Dante back to the village, Viola's sharp eyes were quick to betray that she was still suspicious and wary, despite her words of thanks and her neutral tone.
Despite all the internal conflicts Viola still had regarding Ophelia and the entire situation, she still visibly lowered her guard the moment she turned towards her and Cyrus, asking if they were wounded.
"These are nothing. This little one will take care of them, like always. Thank you." Viola said, referring to the Blood Rose and the wounds made by it's thorns when she was fighting the Roc.
As Ophelia went towards Menzai, Viola looked towards Cyrus, seeking confirmation to whether they would follow the others back to the village or if they would wait for Ophelia and Menzai, due to the authority and power they seemed to hold over the other wolves.
Time: Morning Location: River Interactions: Rowan @GingerBobOh Aurora @mole Zora @13org Mentions: None Equipment: Longsword and Plate Armor After a short while of swinging, both him and the elf grew tired of swinging their weapons at each other with very little intentions to hurt the other person, and decided to stop. Despite not really getting the fight he desired, Barrock simply grew to accept this was as good as he could have gotten out of it. The elf's fighting style was indeed distinct from himself, he wasn't sure if it befitted the elf's austere and regal impression but it worked together in tandem.
And he didn't seem to be the only one to come to that conclusion. The orc noticed two ladies approaching him from the clearing, one more talkative than the other. Much much more in fact. While it was in no means as grating as the dark elf earlier, Barrock found himself a little bit perplexed at how much she read into this whole training. They were just swinging swords around. Why is this some sort of sophisticated conversation all of a sudden?
After a moment, he realized the sudden awkwardness it got for him. These two were likely the training partners Rowan was talking about, and now they were just acknowledging his presence like nothing unusual - like they were a group. The orc glanced between the tattoo-covered girl to the hooded one, on the outside remaining stoic, but his slit eye shapes hinted at his massive confusion as well as hesitancy. Dude, he was here for some fish, and now he is being roped into this?!
Time: Early Afternoon Location: A village outside Roshimi
It wasn’t everyday that Scathael allowed himself a midday nap. Or any sort of rest outside of sleep, for that matter. Industrious dark elf that he was, he usually did all he could to stay busy, even if that meant crafting arrows and casting musket balls until his mind went numb.
But today was different.
Although the late-morning sun still bathed all in its radiance – as it was wont to do – the heat of its rays wasn’t as stifling as their intensity suggested. Thatched roofs and leafy branches rustled softly in the wake of a cooling breeze whispering through the village’s only street. Overhead, bulbous clumps of cotton-white clouds drifted across a sky of clear azure. The long shadows they casted as they floated beneath the disc of iridescent-white provided even more respite – however temporarily – from its rays.
As loath as Scathael was to use the word, he could only describe the weather as perfect. Coupled with the lilting birdsong and vague murmurs of village life filling his ears, it felt as if the world itself was inviting him to rest. And who was he, mere dark elf that he was, to decline such an invitation?
A contented sigh quietly left his lips, barely moving the dirty rag he had draped over his face. Seated on a wooden chair in the front yard of the village smith – the same man from whom he rented a room – he was surrounded by tools and materials of the familiar trade. Leaning back, he rested his legs on a scuffed and battered anvil, and his head against the cold face of an unfired furnace. Bundles of freshly-whittled arrows, all neatly tied with strips of cloth or leather, laid strewn across the table beside him.
He drew in a deep breath, filling his nose with the comforting scent of metals and charcoal. Gentle winds washed over his body and tousled his wiry, pale locks. Memories of better times surfaced in his mind, and a wistful smile came over his face. A twist of pain pinched his heart, but it could neither stay, nor did it last in the face of the soothing calm which completely filled and enveloped him.
Such peacefulness was addictive. Much more than the greatest vice. And so of course, it couldn’t last.
The crunch of approaching footsteps tapped on his eardrums. “Smith’s not in.” Muffled by the rag, his gruff words came out as a barely comprehensible mumble. He crossed his legs on the anvil, and his arms over his chest. Quiet, strained creaks ticked from the chair’s suffering joints. “If you’re here for a delivery, leave it by the door. Otherwise, come back later.”
Silence, broken by the shuffling of feet, was all that answered him. “O-Oh, I’m not looking for the smith,” a small and timid voice squeaked. It was that of a child, by the sound of it. “I-I um, I was hoping you c-could help me, mister Arash.”
That got Scathael’s attention. His eyes snapped open and he swung his legs off the anvil with a grunt. His rousing muscles ached, and drowsiness made his head a leaden weight. But he forced himself to sit up all the same. Idle hands were unbecoming of an artisan, and his had been idle for long enough. Granted, he wasn’t quite sure what sort of work a child would have for him, but it would certainly be better than lazing around and doing nothing. “You can drop the ‘mister’. Just call me Scathael.” A muted yawn left his mouth as he rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Anyway,” he said tersely, and spun around to look at the child. “What do you– Oh, it’s you.”
Large, upturned eyes looked back at him, their vertical irises dark against a sea of amber, and their brows knitted in worry. A pair of long, furry ears laid flat against her messy head of saffron-coloured hair, and she hugged a crossbow – which was almost as long as she was tall – close to her waifish frame. Over-patched and ragged, her simple dress hung loosely from her narrow shoulders. Just the thought of her lugging the cumbersome weapon all the way to the smith was enough to bring a snicker up Scathael’s throat, but that was as far as he allowed it to go.
“Yes, it’s me,” the vulpine demi-human girl said, eyes peering over the crossbow’s arms. “I-I’m–”
“Vallana. I know.” Scathael finished her sentence as he stood up. She looked at him in surprise, and so he continued, “You keep introducing yourself every time I pay your father a visit.” He pushed bundles of arrow shafts aside to clear a space on the table. “And I know that’s his arbalest that you’re holding. Hand it over and tell me what’s wrong with it.”
The girl’s arms trembled precariously as she lifted the heavy weapon towards him. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes squeezed shut in effort and strain. Scathael sighed and shook his head. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he said drily and with both hands, carefully took it from her with a grunt.
Vallana shook away the soreness in her arms. “I-I was cleaning the house, and I-I was trying to get around it and I think I-I ac-accidentally knocked into it and it fell and I heard a crack and it didn’t look right and so I brought it t-to you as quickly as I could.” The panicked words tumbled from her mouth like water breaking through a dam. As she spoke, her voice cracked and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “Please fix it, mister Ara–Scathael! F-Father will kill me if he finds out I broke it!”
“No, he won’t,” Scathael said matter-of-factly as he hefted the arbalest, wincing as he felt the full weight of it pull on his arms. A cumbersome thing, it boasted two long and powerful steel arms that launched heavy bolts with both speed and accuracy. Great for a hunter prowling the woods not far from home, but not for a wanderer like Scathael. “He dotes plenty on you. Even I can see that, and I only talk to him when I have to buy hides or meat. So calm down and stop worrying. It’s distracting.”
The fox-girl stifled a sniff. “Really?”
“Yes. Now stop crying. If you have to, do it quietly.”
“O-Oh, sorry.”
“Thank you,” the dark elf mumbled. He shook his arms loose, drew in a deep breath, and with teeth gritted so hard that it felt as if he would grind them to dust, he lifted the arbalest and aimed it at the sky. Squinted eyes battled the sun’s glare, and sweat pooled on his brow. Within moments, his aching muscles begged for rest. Scathael ignored them all, and instead focused on aligning the sights of the arbalest. In no time at all, he identified the problem, but still he slowly brought the weapon down onto the table. There were steps to fixing such things – he had made them up himself. To not abide by them was to invite careless mistakes or missed defects, both of which were unforgivable errors as far as he was concerned.
Beside him, Vallana fidgeted. Curious eyes ran over everything in the yard at least twice.
He ran a hand over the stock. A solid piece of oak hewn into something vaguely resembling a stock, it was rough, it looked – and likely was – unfinished, but it could be braced against a shoulder and sat under an arm well enough. Then, he gripped the bowstring tightly and gave it a strong tug. The resistance, the pull against the meat of his fingers, those were all expected. What wasn’t, however, was the imbalance he felt in the string. With furrowed brows, he carefully released the string and pulled it again.
Yes, one side was certainly pulling harder than the other. That was all the confirmation he needed.
“Father says you’ve been to a lot of places,” Vallana piped up as she stood on the tips of her toes to peek over the table’s edge. As unwelcome as the interruption was, Scathael wasn’t as annoyed as he would be had she been just a few years older. It amazed him enough that the child had held her tongue for as long as she did.
“I have,” he replied simply and brushed Vallana away from the table.
“You must have seen amazing things.” The awe in her voice was palpable. “Being an adventurer must be a lot of fun! I want to be one too, when I get bigger.”
Aching legs. Cold Fear. A crack of thunder. Pouring rain lashing his cheeks. A thousand thoughts crashing through his mind. His boots slipping against soft mud. Hanging thorns cutting his face. The sight of a cave entrance through the vines. In his relief, a second wind. The scent of moss. The scent of blood. A body he recognised, trapped beneath rocks. Dead for days. A scrawled apology, red ink darkened to brown. Shock and pain. Anguish and despair. Crushing regret.
Scathael exhaled sharply and pushed those memories aside. “No, you don’t,” he said drily and beckoned for her to stand beside him. “And you have bigger things to worry about now. You’re right, your father’s arbalest is damaged.” He dragged the weapon over to the edge of the table and tipped it over just enough, and for just long enough, for her to see the hairline cracks on one of the arms. Terrified realisation came over the girl’s face, and her lips began to tremble. Sighing, Scathael pushed the arbalest back onto the table.
“Relax.” His tone was flat, and not reassuring at all. “It’s not entirely your fault. One fall wouldn’t have done this. Not unless it fell off a roof. Damage like this builds up over time. Your father must’ve knocked it about more than a few times.” A subtle bitterness crept into his words, and he swallowed whatever else he had to say about the matter before continuing. “Anyway, I’ll have to make new limbs for it. Not difficult work. All the materials are here already, so I should have it done by this evening.”
Vallana’s face was still scrunched up in anxiety. “But…But father will be home before then…”
Scathael shrugged. “It’s the best I can do.” His expression softened upon seeing the girl’s downcast eyes, and her ears lying so flat against her head that they disappeared into her hair. Sighing, he – albeit a touch reluctantly – added, “You’re welcome to stay and watch until I’m done, but only if you’re quiet and don’t touch anything. Cause trouble and I’ll throw you back home myself.”
Relief flooded over Vallana’s face, and she nodded enthusiastically. “I promise, I will! Thank you! Oh, and I can pay…” She pushed her hands into her dress’ pockets. Coins clinked together, the sound only slightly muffled by the thin fabric. “I-I’ve been saving. It should be enough–”
“Don’t bother,” Scathael cut her off. “I can already hear that you can’t afford this.” Neither was this a job so challenging that he felt he needed to ask for payment. Repairing a damaged crossbow limb was about as mundane as jobs went. It almost felt insulting to be rewarded for something he could do from start to finish in his sleep. “If you really have to pay me–” he grabbed a few bundles of arrow shafts and handed them to Vallana “–you can bring these to the bowyer and ask for a crossbow string for your father, and a bowstring for me. You know who’s the bowyer, right?”
“Mister Tesh? Yes, I know him.” Vallana nodded as she tried to balance bundles in her arms. Each was the length of her forearm and almost just as thick. “Krawin and I play together sometimes. That’s his daugh–”
“I don’t need to know that,” Scathael interrupted. “Just go to the bowyer and exchange the arrow shafts for the things I told you. One crossbow string, one bowstring. Tell him I sent you.”
“Okay!” Vallana sounded far too excited for the task, but it was endearing, in a way. With the arrow shafts tucked precariously under her arms, she hurried away from the yard. Scathael watched her leave, his face impassive even as she stumbled a few times on the rough and uneven ground. Soon enough, Vallana was consumed by the milling crowd, and he lost sight of the little girl. Only then did he bring his attention back to the weapon on the table before him.
He chewed on his lip. Such peacefulness – such normality – was indeed addictive. A small, but noticeable part of him was already busy weaving fantasies of a simpler life. One where he wasn’t on the move all the time. One where he could rest his head on the same bed, under the same roof every night, and awake to the same sights, and same scents every morning. Such a fantasy wasn’t one that was strange to him, but it certainly was one he despised. He knew it was unattainable. Impossible, even. Yet, his mind refused to stop tormenting him with imaginations of a life he simply wasn’t fated for.
A wistful sigh left his lips. He gripped the arbalest firmly by the stock and carefully unhooked the bowstring from one of the limbs. Perhaps, in a way, it was good that he was reminded of that painful dream. It was a sign that he had stayed in the village for far too long – long enough for him to get comfortable, and for him to start getting ideas. Ideas that were poison to an elf like him.
It was time he left.
Time: Early Afternoon Location: The Nest; Roshmi Equipment:
His travelling clothes - Dark, earthy shirt and coat, with trousers tucked into boots A hooded, oilskin cloak His bow, unstrung A musket Two pistols Two hatchets His travelling pack
A few days later, Scathael found himself in an environment that was the exact opposite of the village.
Cacophonic, musty, and filled to bursting with people who either drunk their inhibitions away, or had drunk themselves insensate, the Nest – to him, at least – truly encapsulated the nature of Roshmi’s slums. Wild, ever-changing, and unpredictable, it was the sort of place most people took pains to avoid. But it was also the sort of place where one could find things – or people – that weren’t easily found elsewhere. So long as one was also ready to have the thrill of danger excite their blood. Or have it spilled over the ground. It was a toss-up between the two, really.
Scathael was in search of neither. Whatever items he needed, he could craft. And unless there happened to be someone wandering the dark web of streets with a convenient mithril mine hidden in their pockets, it was highly unlikely that he would find anyone that interested him.
Rather, he was the person who was sought after. A semi-regular at the Nest – he made it a point to pop in at least once every time he was in Roshmi – those who recognised him knew him as someone who would fix and repair weapons, armour, and tools with no questions asked, and all for either just a token sum, or information about – of all things – rare minerals and materials. Those who didn’t recognise him, soon did for the arrows, bolts, and bullets he sold at such a low price that he may as well be giving it away.
“Tell me again, what did you do with this?” Scathael turned a pitted and heavily-scarred sword over in his hands multiple times. Shadows danced across its dull blade in the dim lantern light, but Scathael could still tell that none of the damage done came from battle. “Did you chop down a tree with this thing? Or did you oil it with butter?”
The light elf sitting opposite him squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, his turquoise eyes averted. That gave Scathael his answer, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at the youth in barely-disguised disgust, and also a modicum of surprise.
“It was a difficult time, okay? I had no choice!” The light elf suddenly blurted out.
“I understand cutting down a branch, but the butter?” Scathael shook his head and rested the sword upon the table. “Doing nothing would’ve been better. How long have you been adventuring?”
The light crossed his arms across his chest. “Long enough.”
“It’s going to become ‘short enough’, if you keep being an idiot,” Scathael said and pushed the sword over to the light elf. “Next time, use animal fat if you really have nothing else. Go buy yourself a new blade. It’ll cost you almost just as much if you want me to reforge the damn thing, and I’m not wasting my time doing that on a buttered blade.”
The light elf grumbled, but took the sword and walked away.
Scathael sighed and shook his head. That was the price of doing business in this part of the city. Most who came to him were criminals – or at least, they dealt in matters that made approaching a legitimate smith a problem – and for the most part, they weren’t the sort to be able to afford to take proper care of their tools of the trade. Granted, this was the first time Scathael had seen a sword oiled with butter, so perhaps it was that particular light elf who was special.
He leaned back in his seat and looked over the crowd. There was still plenty of time left in the day. He just had to be patient, and he would make enough to buy passage to–
"Who the fuck dared to pour water on me!?"
That shout, so full of rage, put a quick end to Scathael's planning. Casually leaning over to one side, he peered between shoulders and craned necks just in time to see a leporine demi-human turn a table into splinters with her hammer. Her body was soaked, and her hair matted wet. The culprits – Scathael assumed – a light elf woman and a green dragonborn, laid on the ground before her. For a moment, he tensed up, half-expecting a fight to break out. His eyes darted to the various exits and entrances of the Nest.
But it all proved to be unnecessary. For now, at least. The demi-human didn't seem too upset by her rude awakening, and she didn't seem to be in too violent a mood, the table aside. With a shrug, Scathael looked away from the scene and leaned back in his seat. Strange things happened everyday. In the Nest, moreso than other places.
Time: Morning Location: Gaurav Village Interactions: Menzai @samreaper, Cyrus @Helo, Ophelia @princess and Viola [13org] Equipment: 2 shot glasses, 1036 Amas total, Flowers from Phia, Dante’s cellphone, and Dante’s knife
“Cyrus and Viola.” Darius said as he committed the names to memory. They were strangers as of now but he could see how different they were from each other. Cyrus had a warm temperament, while Viola was starkly cold. Despite their differences, both were polite enough and both had fought alongside them.
When the offer was made by Cyrus to assist in carrying Dante, Darius couldn't help but be instinctively reluctant. I was more so pride than trust that kept him from accepting the assistance. Dante was all Darius had in this strange place. In this strange world. It was simply not an easy thing for him to have someone else, especially a stranger support him when he was at his lowest. Part of him felt that the responsibility rested with himself, while the other wanted to accept Cyrus's generosity.
“He is kinda heavy.” Darius admitted, a smile finally breaking through as he stopped so Cyrus could share the load. “Thanks,” Darius said as he gave Cyrus a nod. It was going to be a long walk, so the young man figured he could pass the time with some conversation. Cyrus and Viola were new faces after all.
“So you two are fairies like Phia, right? Where did you two even come from?” His questions were birthed from his curiosity, revealing just how much he didn't know about the two he now trekked the forest with. They had the same features as Phia, yet their magic seemed mildly different from hers. Thorny vines and the bark of trees was not something the young local healer had displayed in the days he'd known her.
Dante hadn't done much other than listen in to the three converse around him. He took note of their names, but as far as he was concerned, most of the questions he would even care to ask at the moment would come from his brother. Dante had gladly welcomed the help from Cyrus holding him up on his other side. He took full advantage of the aid, resting into those carrying him, saving what energy he could from what Dante had left.
Time: Morning’s are for rescuing Malachi! Location: River Port; Malachi’s mom’s house Interactions: Malachi@princess, Jun@JJ Doe, Enstille@GingerBobOh, Kenia@Tae Equipment: A halberd, (always with him) hunting knife, and half-plate armor (left in the room).
Zion smiled wide as Kenia confirmed his guess. “A lion knows a skilled huntress when he sees one. Your grace is cat-like and that is a compliment I rarely give.” Her swiftness in offering to help, despite Malachi's earlier rudeness, told Zion that Kenia also possessed a kind and courageous heart, willing to run towards danger to help another. He was confident that their group needed someone like her and he’d just have to convince Malachi of the same.
“Jun, Malachi has made it his mission to keep you safe, would you really leave him to fend for himself if danger arises? He is part of this pride, he has selflessly taken on the burden of leading, and he gets up early to make breakfast because he cares about all of us. Malachi has earned better than this.” Zion tried his best not to sound condescending as he addressed the human, but Jun’s lack of concern for Malachi disturbed the young lion. Surely if he put the situation in the appropriate context the human would understand. Most of the rest of what Jun said was just a confusing jumble of words to the lion. Mages? Rogues? Switching roles? Surely Kenia was no assassin, such an accusation was just rude. What on Avalia was the human on about? Who was targeting Enstille?
“Excellent planning Jun." He declared even without understanding much beyond 'stick together'. He was just happy to see Jun participating. “We will all go and help Malachi, I do not believe it is normal for him to run away like this, with breakfast left uneaten. And if he doesn't need help, we can all enjoy some post-breakfast exercise!” He clapped his hands with excitement, taking Jun’s words of advice as an agreement to help. He grabbed his halberd from where it perched against a wall ready for whatever was happening in the woods.
Arlen's pupils widened with the adrenaline, a combative eagerness colouring his expression as he realized he’d badly wounded the fairy. However, the desire to finish his enemy off quickly made him impatient; too fast, and reckless.
Meanwhile, the blonde’s determination focused his frenzied energy. The fairy struck swiftly; once, twice. The first strike, Arlen blocked, if only partially; it earned him a gash on his upper arm. His right drooped due to the sudden sharp pain, and the fairy took advantage, quickly slicing at his wrist and making him drop one dagger.
He still had the other dagger however, and even though his opponent was now aiming for his neck, Arlen was faster. He utilized his injured right arm to smack the blonde in his injured stomach. The fairly let out a sharp cry, and in that second, Arlen brought his left dagger up into a horizontal slash right across the blonde’s neck. The fairy’s grimace of pain transformed into surprise – then remained frozen that way forever as his life was taken away from him.
Neck sliced, blood gushing out, the fairy’s body dropped to the ground, head mercifully not fully detached. Arlen breathed harshly, chest heaving up and down, snarl stretching his lips. It took him a moment to calm down. Then, he sheathed his dagger, crouched down to grab the one which had fallen, and stashed that one too.
While he was resting on his knee, he turned to the dead fairy. Though he was yet inflamed from the encounter, and the injuries he had been dealt, Arlen offered the unknown man the respect to close his lids. “If ya wasn’t such a fuckin’ idiot we could’a had other kinds of fun…” he ground out in a low, angry growl.
Exhaling sharply, he stood up, and went to the edge of the roof to check how his allies were doing. If they needed help, he could still lend them aid by shooting at any of the remaining opponents.
Rushes the fairy, suffers one gash across the upper right arm and a slice across his wrist due to it. Flails his injured right to smack the fairy in the injured stomach. This startles the fairy, Arlen then slices across his neck. Has some parting words to the dead man, then edges across the roof to go check on his allies; ready to shoot if they need help.
ᴛɪᴍᴇ | Late Morning ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Entrance to Roshmi City ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ | Mister Luum @FunnyGuy, Bardulf @Lava Alckon, Rue @Potter, Bowyn @Helo, Brigitte @Tae, Raze ᴇQᴜɪᴘᴍᴇɴᴛ | Travel bag with essentials (money, fewer rations than before, first aid, etc), sapphire pendant, twin daggers. Zeva’s eyebrows scrunched together upon hearing Bowyn’s words of suspicion, no doubt intentionally spoken loud enough for Zeva to hear. She mentally took back the few brownie points he won when he healed her arm earlier in the forest, in a sort of childish personal vengeance. It seemed silly to her that Bowyn would show any degree of open suspicion to a potential enemy who had witnessed their secrets. If they were going to run into someone, they were lucky that it was someone as agreeable as Zeva. After all, she dislikes the dark elves as much as anyone, and she was well-trained in combat – perfectly aligned with what their mission calls for!
Mister Luum eventually decided he would tag along with Zeva and the dark-haired man with strange ears in exploring the city after everyone ate. Zeva was not thrilled per se – she was starting to build the impression he had a few screws loose with the whimsical way he conducted himself. It was unfortunately the better choice than going with the winter fairies who seemed most suspicious of her.
A sharp gasp escaped Zeva’s lips when a small creature suddenly popped out of her bag, responding to Bowyn’s calls. Raze, as Zeva learned this creature was called, was dusted in the crumbs of her rations, its cheeks full of evidence. Her jaw dropped in shock as she watched the creature happily munch away without a care in the world, looking as innocent as a newborn puppy with its beady, doe eyes, rather than the despicable thief it was. If they had met in different circumstances, Zeva surely would've fallen for its adorableness. She could hardly react to Raze’s assault on her personal belongings before it committed another offense, popping in and out of her bag again, this time with a coin.
“MYYyyYY MOOONEeeEyYyYY!!!” Zeva wailed, quickly snatching the ama out of Raze’s teeth with a moderate tug. She stomped over to Bowyn, scooped the thief out her bag, and plopped him atop Bowyn’s head.
“Stay there!” She stomped back, in the direction of the bakery.
Zeva simmered briefly in annoyance as she shoved the coin back into the bag and check on the extent of Raze’s damage. Good, pendant is still on me. As Zeva calmed slightly, the wafted scents of sugar and baked goods hit her nose again, and the hunger began to amplify the annoyance stewing in her stomach. She was low on rations now, so getting some food was a must. Zeva motioned for the group to follow with a wave of her hand. “Okay okay, time for some food.”
