Marcus-Hunter

Marcus followed the group, recognizing the weapons and overall look of hunters. He presented his papers without a word, looking back to watch someone lead his horse to a stable. He didn't look at any of the others, if this thing was as bad as he had been told, well, they'd all die anyway. He didn't need to get attached or friendly. He'd do the job and go home to a lovely keg that he had so lovingly placed on his table as a welcome home present to himself. Hell, with the reward he would live like a king for the rest of his life. This thought allowed a small smile to form on his lips.

He entered the room at length, allowing his eyes to take in the wealth and pompous decoration. He wasn't going to like this king, not a bit. He shrugged inwardly. It didn't really matter if he liked the old fart anyway. A serving girl walked over to him offering him a glass. There was her face again, he blinked, it was gone. He grimaced and took the drink, downing it. It was basically water. He set the empty glass on a small table and reached for his flask, intending to wash down the piss water he had just swallowed. Before the cool metal reached his lips, a man walked in and addressed them. Marcus listened, blinking lazily at the man. He had to admit, when this man mentioned the cup of Eden he nearly laughed aloud. He was being paid an great reward for a cup. Of course he didn't believe the tales. Stories where a charming prince rescued a beautiful maiden from an evil doer and they lived happily ever after. They were for children, there was no good in the world. What about the stories where the charming princes beautiful face was smashed in and the maiden rejected him for being ugly. That sounded more like reality.

The promise of a large feast had his mood lifting. Only slightly however, one could only lift Marcus so high before he trust a dagger into your eye. It was life. As he walked, the delicious aroma of the feast reached his nose. Perhaps, this King would not be so bad. His mind reminded him of the so-so drink and he retracted that thought. That drink was for women. Was this King a woman? Only time would tell. As he moved, he found himself behind a red-head. A rather pert behind sashayed beneath the hair, followed by strong legs. He found himself undressing this woman with his mind. A rather interesting and imaginative action. When he found that the only face he could imagine was his late wife's, he snorted and emptied his flask, tucking it into his belt for safe keeping.

"The hunters are gathering inside the castle," The captain of the guard said, visibly unsettled by the mask of the man, and his bearing in general. He just gave them all the creeps," But there is no need for threats. we are all friends here, comrades under the same fighting banner. For the moment anyway. Any and all help is welcome."

Jonathan sneered beneath his mask," Whatever. I do not like hunting in a pack. That's for dogs and wolves. I am neither. But no matter. Brother," He snarled that last word as if it were an insult.

"Oi," One of the other men growled, standing, easily two feet taller than Jonathan was himself," No need to be insulting. The man was offering you the proverbial olive basket and you spat on it, like a lowly cur. You shouldn't be entering this castle, not with the manners that the likes of you has, no sir."

Jonathan looked up at the man, unimpressed," I insult and threaten whomever I like, dog, and if you don't like it, you are fully encouraged to place a note in the complaint box of the Chapel of Brynelm."

"Cunt," The man growled and his fist moved. Too slow, in Jonathan's opinion. Clenching up, his whole arm moving back for a powerful punch thrown. but again, too slow. His whole body told Jonathan where the punch was going to land before it was even thrown. He waited until the last minute, even looking away at the other guards and winking before his own body moved into counter the attack. His right arm crossed over to connect with the man's own fist. The whole yard sounded with crack of both fists connecting. Surprisingly, it was accompanied with another sound, like the sound of a sword being drawn, bones and meat being sliced and a scream of pain as the giant of a man tumbled to the ground, clutching his eviscerated, bloody hand to his chest.

Jonathan sheathed the three blades back into their hiding place in his gauntlet before any of the dimwitted soldiers had a chance to see it.

"You fucking cunt! You goddamn son of a whore!" The man half-bellowed, half-cried.

"You shouldn't insult whores like that, brother," Jonathan said in a calm voice, licking the blood from his knuckles and spitting it out," They will be the only manner of satisfying yourself now that your hand is out of order."

The rest of the guards drew their weapons after a moment of stunned silence, and advanced on the former warlock, but their captain called them to a halt.

"But sir," One of the men said in an annoyingly nasal voice," He used magic there. Knuckles ain't supposed to do what his did just there."

"Not magic, no," Jonathan growled," Simple tricks, and if that is what your men think is magic nowadays," He smiled, passing the reins of his horse to the Captain," I don't know if I should be worried or satisfied with the state of the realm," He grinned underneath his mask, a gruesome sight," Now, remember, stable, hay, apples, and remember to change his water at least twice a day or he will tell me, and you will be in trouble, are we clear?"

"Yessir."

"Thank you, now where is hall where the others that hunt are gathered."

"Hugo will show you the way sir."

Like he had seen before. Fear. It just needed to be established if he was the kind of fear to run from or fight. Now that that was established, he was confident that the word would spread and unnecessary contact with the people of the town would be limited to the bare necessities of social conduct. That thought pleased him, probably more than Father Grimbold would like, but the old sir would never find out from him.

They moved through the castle, with more stares directed it him, and whispers too. He declined on listening in on these. Idle gossip interested him not. The entered a hall where an assortment of warriors and other fighters were gathered, and the guard stopped.

"Here we are s...."

"Shut up. Go away, and make yourself useful. Jump off a cliff or something," He said, waving his hand to indicate that he cared little of the man did or did not plummet to his death. Annoyingly, a female steward approached him with a tray of cool drinks in her hand.

"May I take your cloa..."

"No. Fuck off."

"May I offer a drin..."

"Yes, I am parched," He took a glass from the tray and, sipping it carefully to make sure that there was no poisons, smiled," Where's the food?"

The confused stewardess pointed to the table where the foods were.

He didn't look back, lifting his mask up and turning towards the table, moving towards it without another word.

"You're welcome," The woman growled indignantly and went over to one of the other guests.

Arlese, hunter

It was already beginning to become dark when Arlese approached the gates of the large human city, a guard at her side. Boleo snorted, shifting underneath her he came to a stop. It was clear he was not fond of being out of the forest, let alone entering a human city where he would be more prized dead than alive. Arlese patted his neck with her pale soft hand and sat silently as the guard called out for the gates to be opened. She was not fond of the idea any more than she was but they had been chosen for a mission; assist the humans and attack the Shade at his home while the other Woaden protected the elven home.

Suddenly a voice was heard yelling down from the nearby guard tower. “Aye who is with you guard?” Arlese could not be identified as she sat upon the great stag, her dark wooden colored cloak covered her entire body head to boots, and she kept her head down lest the soft moon like glow of her skin give her away. It had been decided that he identity should be concealed from most humans, save the king and other hunters, else risk a commotion. Elves had not been sighted for centuries, not by any one who could later tell the tale any way, and the elven Queen preferred it. They had long ago tired of dealing too much with humans.

“A guest of the king now open the damn gate.” The guard, Vikter, was more than ready to be home after a two week journey to find an elven warrior; the poor thing had a rough time of the forest. As the large wooden gates opened the pair road forward into the city, Boleo’s unaltered hooves much quieter on the cobbled streets that the glancing feet of the guard’s mare. They moved through the street as human children flooded windows to gawk at the huge male deer and its silent rider move past the city building and up to the castle. The stariing did not stop once they reached the castle stables where Arlese dismounted and turned to her escort.
“The stable hands will care for him.”

Arlese turned to look at the ‘stables,’ such an odd idea, and then to those who were apparently in charge before returning to Vikter. “I he is harmed..” Her voice was soft, musical almost, but stunted. It was clear the language in which she spoke was not her own.

“He will not be harmed, but I do understand the repercussions.” Arlese nodded. Harm done to Boleo would be considered harm done unto her and would require death or combat. He was one to be protected. The stag grunted several times as men approached him but eventually entered the a stall where there was food awaiting him.
Arlese made her way toward the entrance to the castle and followed as the guard made his way to a what appeared to be a great hall. There was food and drink waiting and servants to pass it out, the others must have been her fellow hunters. She looked about and saw one man, as pale as she but no elf. This was most interesting.

“Wait in here and I will go tell the king.” She nodded and stood quietly where she was, her head lifted to look about better.

Reynault was very thankful for the chance to change into something more comfortable. His tunic (the only nice thing he packed) fit well and it made a lot less noise than armor. He followed the staircase back down to the great hall and was greeted by the guards. He nodded in reply and turned the corner into the dining hall. Before he could enter, he bumped into someone coming the other way. It was the red haired woman from before (Evangelina). "Ack, Sorry." He managed to get out while only looking a little awkward.

Sors Kelden - Hunter

The two man stationed to guard the entrance to the castle, stood together on either side of the large portcullis. They had let the hunter in moments prior, and had gone back to standing idly waiting for someone else to come approach the gate. The two of them felt the tension in the air, hidden underneath the common routine of everyday life and scheduled fear was building in the populace, the slowly building current of fear that tomorrow could be the day that Adin fell and with it the last hope of Capernaum. But of course the guards and everyone else tried to think of something else anything else for thinking about one's impending doom was never a fun topic. A strong gust of wind came up from the valley below, up the cliff side and rattling the old flag the worn out seal of Capernaum tattered after years of abuse attached to the same flagstaff it had been attached to for seventy years. A crow cawed as it circled high above, most likely roosting in the old guard house, now home to the crows and smaller rodents, living in the broken rotten wood and discard hay. Of course the guards did not care about the crow, all the cared about was the bitter cold gust that the winds brought with them. It was crisp and bitter, these warning signs of winter appearing more and more frequently, as the day by day became progressively colder. The two guards clutched to their fur lined cloaks and starred on ahead at the road sloping downwards, waiting bitterly for their rounds to be over.

It was right around then that the two of them heard the clunk of the sound of somebody coming up the road to the castle slowly. A man cloaked in a patchwork cloak of grey, with a large staff of oak was slowly shambling upwards towards the castle. The two guards looked at one another quizzically, they experienced the occasional minstrel, doomsayer, pauper and leper in their day. All of them wanting to see the king, it was odd what kind of types just simply believed that they could have a royal audience. As the winter came, they would seem more of them, looking for shelter and food. This caused another unnecessary irritation to the guards, who would have to try and explain to those with broken minds and a sometimes less than perfect grasp on reality would sometimes be akin to trying to holding a conversation with a stone wall with social anxiety problems. So the two guards prepped for the worst as they watched the man shamble his way up the hill. His cloak seemed to engulf his entire form, given his form an ethereal resemblance to it, the patchwork greys blinding in with the northern sky. Judging from his gait he was no longer a youth, the spring in his step had long ago vanished, but the purpose with which he worked was not exemplified by many men of old age. As he drew closer the two guards drew at attention as they raised their large polearms as the shined with a glistening glimmer as the sun hit the metal. The man seemed unphased as he continued to approach them, the guards looked at each other and nodded slowly as one of them called out to the man in grey.

“Halt Stranger and identify yourself!” The lead guard called his voice ringing with authority, the two guards looking quite imposing dressed in full ceremonial armor, the King’s the colors shining brightly. The King’s Guard were the best soldiers that Capernaum’s military had to offer, taken from the officers academy at a young age and personnel trained by the Royal Battlemaster himself. They were the King, his family and any dignitary or ambassador that came to Capernaum escort and official protection. Sometimes referred to as the Old Guard, or the Stubborn Bastards (not to their face of course). The guard called out again to the figure who seemed to not have heard them the first time and it was then that he stopped where he was and did something odd. He let out a long burst of laughter: the laughter was not of insanity, nor of malice but something different it had an airy and warm quality to it, it told the story of warm summer evenings, it danced with the farmers daughter under the moonlight and had the scent of dark mead on a cold winters evening, it was many things but at the same instance none of them ephemeral and fading. It was then that the man slowly raised his hand, the two guards raised their spears in a defense position waiting for the man to pull a weapon to do something. But his hand grasped the hood and pulled it down revealing a smiling face showing signs of age, his eyes seeming to smile themselves, a unkempt mane of grey hair.

The two guards look at one another in surprise, who they thought to be some crazy pauper lost in his mind was none other than Sors Kelden. Oh the stories one would hear of “The Grey Executioner”, The hero of Capernaum, the fabled slayer of abominations, The great warrior from the North, and one of the original hunters of the Shade. Wherever he seemed to go adventures seemed to follow close behind like an eagerly awaiting hound. If one heard half the stories thy told of Sors, one would believe he had saved the kingdom twice over and was an immortal hero of colossal stature. But of course most of these tales were over exaggerations of the truth and he was just a man, and in most cases a very lucky one at that. Sors looked at the two guards and smiled as he spoke.

“It would seem that I forgot my invitation lads. Do you think that you could help a poor old man out of the harsh elements? Sors asked the two guards.

“Mr. Kelden! Sir… if we knew you were coming we would of gotten you an escort!” The guard exclaimed.

“Oh relax lads, my best years might be behind me, but I’ll be damned if I can’t walk up a mountain by myself. Though I will say that I do remember the ascent taking much less time when I was a younger man. ” Sors explained as he approached them, the two of them parted as he approached them. The large gate rose into the air as he stepped through into the castle courtyard. He wandered lackadaisically to the large doors of the castle were a servant was waiting for him. He nodded at the boy as he lead him inside to the large foyer, that served as the barrier between the cold outside world and cream colored place within . In front of him greeting him was a large portrait of the great king in his youth. He was always a giant of a man but he used to be more muscle than his current composer. The stress, that the Shade’s terror had been wrecking across the countryside he but the toll on Capernaum’s leader. Sors remembered just twenties years ago, the man would wrestle bears without arms or armor, just for the fun of it and it you be unwise to place a beat on the bear. But now it is heard that he never leaves his chambers or the castle itself, locking himself indoors. Sors shook his head sadly as the servant waited patiently for Sors to turn away from the portrait and follow him to the great hall. Of course Sors had been through the castle enough times to know how to get around, but their was something in the codes of formality, that it just feel wrong not to follow.

When they arrived at the great hall, Sors looked around at the small gathering of people. The letter Zakariah had sent him, told him rather simply to come to the Castle. That the king required aid against the Shade, and that they were gathering a group of hunters to combat the beast. Sors would have very much liked to stay in his cabin, away from all this chaos and finery. Zakariah knew that he had retired and that he was no longer the one to go racing across the countryside chasing monsters and apparitions in the mist. But something inside the old hunter pushed him to go, if they sent a group of youngins against the shade, they were sending the lamb off to slaughter. No matter how much combat experience they had, they did not know the horrors that former shell of a man could deal. So he set off towards the castle, for no other reason than to prevent the pointless waste of human life that could occur.

He entered the hall, his eyes casually observing the other hunters gathering around the tables to eat. He was more less twice the age of most of the men and women their, most of them no older than boys and girls just escaping out into the world, to go on a grand adventure. He moved by taking a goblet from the table and moving towards the roaring fireplace at one of end of the hall. He stood next to it warming his body feeling the tension relax from his again limbs as his eyes met Zakariah’s, he give the king’s aide a small nod and then just stood there observing, watching. They seemed to mixed group of adventures, he even saw the eleven women as he walked in.

“Jermolt must of called for aid from all four corners, the stubborn old man finally realized that his own small army and a smattering of hunters was not enough to beat back that damn creature.” Sors mumbled to himself as he took a long drag from the goblet.

Tyden Konrad - Hunter

I ignored the other hunters and minded my own business. As we all entered the palace we were directed into a large room where some male and female servants came in attendance. I see as one of the hunters, a female,.went to one of the servants and asked for a washroom. After the announcement that drinks were offered was made I go and grab a cup as I make some steps back, close to a window and I look through it. I don't know how this city looked before this whole mess started but now it looked like it was ready to fall apart. In the meantime a nicely dressed person arrives and starts talking as everyone took a seat into a row of plushed crimson red chairs.

The man explained the whole situation. Then he said that we were all summoned here for a two-fold mission. Then he said that the cup of Eden was stolen from their chambers. I've heard legends about that cup, and how it can be used to achieve immortality. But honestly I thought they are just that...legends. I still do actually. I don't know what to make of this whole situation. And now this guy says that they need the cup back. Really? Some of the best hunters in the world were summoned for that. To retrieve some artifact that we don't even know if it exists for sure? Whatever, I think i'll play along. I needed some action anyway.

As I put my empty cup away, the man who seems an advisor of some sorts directed all of us to another large room, where a feast was ready. Although I am eager for some good food and wine I can't wait for a good night's sleep as tomorow we will begin our quest. I can't wait to see this king though. The man said that he will join us soon. I head to a roasted chicken and grab a one of the legs as I pull it off and take a bite from it. Then I grab a cup as one of the servants rushes to fill it with wine. I'm not very used with this whole servant stuff. I like doing my own things, but I wait as he finishes filling my cup with wine as he lets down the carafe.

Jonathan - Hunter

It wasn't as if he could help his keen hearing. He just hear everything, and it remained there, lodged in his head until it was duly processed and chucked out. He didn't like listening to the random ramblings of the boring people around him. He just had to. The church demanded that he hunt with this group, and so hunt he would. But he would do his best to ignore everyone and everything as best he could for as long as he needed to until the fun began. He couldn't kill humans without just cause anyways, but imagining them being maimed and tortured at his hands were a great consolation.

He ignored the older man as he entered, munching on some small buns that were filled with something sweet and strawberry-like, and sipping the drink that he had been handed. It wasn't quite as strong as liquor, but it was stronger than wine, and far sweeter. Mead, he determined. Yes, it had hints of honey in it. He had never tasted the drink himself, but had heard enough about it to recognize the taste.

His head flickered around as a voice called out above all others, if only because it was muttered into a goblet, to himself, hidden from the rest. He smiled, as he had been waiting for something like this. He had eaten to his fill already, and being content was not a comfortable state for him to be in.

"And I suppose that you are here to make things all right again, Grey One? Aren't you a bit too... elderly to be hunting something monstrously large as the Shade? Shouldn't you be curled up beside some old fireplace reading some book as your grandchildren play at your old and rotting feet?" He grinned again, and, even without the mask, it was still a gruesome sight.

Evangelina Vertesca - Huntress (Narrator)

A bit of activity resounded behind her, but being not in charge or really having anyone in her midst that she cared for in the sense of offered protection or arms, she continued to move toward the sound of soft music and smells of heaven. Turning her head as she entered the room, Eva lifted an eyebrow as the man behind (Marcus) her downed something from a flask, a smirk touching her mouth at the attentiveness afforded a team from a drunk amongst them. Her breath left her as she plowed into someone (Reynault), a soft gasp rising from her lips and a bit off balance lost. She reached out toward the man before her and grabbed his arm to regain herself.

"I am sorry. I should've watched where I was going. I was a bit preoccupied." She smiled kindly and offered her hand. "I am Evangelia and come from the land of Demura. I suppose you found a place to change into something a bit more accommodating for a dining experience?" She walked toward the table talking to her new acquaintance, her eyes moving across the various offerings before her. Grapes and berries brought life to the table-scape that sat bountiful in roasted bird and beasts, potatoes and yams covered in various butters and sauces and several dishes that she knew nothing of, but wanted to taste nonetheless.

She took a place at the table and nodded politely as someone from the waitstaff offered her a napkin and silverware. Looking around she took in the various faces and races, the place filled with history and some of the hunters offering their services were legends around Capernaum. She often wondered if the acknowledgement was what brought them running for the next fight or if regardless of age, something still burned within them to press the boundaries of reality and push against the barriers of death awaiting.

The pale darkness spoke up loudly, jabbing at the oldest member of the group, Eva smirking at the younger man's antics. He was either in search of a fight or attention, neither of which was she interested in. Reaching for a platter of various vegetables before her, Eva took a bit of this and that and turned to the king's adviser as he approached. "I am quite surprised that your father would allow you to attend, Evangelina. The great war monger is not one to offer assistance and most certainly not from his own family." He paused and waited for her to put on display her reasoning for being here.

She smiled with a bit of nefarious intent and nodded, popping a small grape into her mouth and taking her time before answering. "Yes, well, he called for the bravest to come forward and fight in a series of games and I put them all to shame." She smiled and laughed in a manner that made the room feel almost brighter.

Zakariah smiled back and shook his head. "I am not at all surprised by this."

"Nor should you be," she picked up her glass and continued to converse with him until the servants stood and the King made his entrance.

Arralina - Witch

The very sound of spirit magic moving among the hills and beckoning to her brothers and sisters caused her skin to crawl. Very few things caused fear to rear its ugly head within the sorcerer, but the ability to pull and tug at one's spirit - the core of their being - and force will upon them just echoed across her the wrong way. She shook her head, long dark hair moving about her bare shoulders and lifting up the scent of lillies in the air about her. She stopped to talk with one of her brothers, her blood sister, Vitra nowhere to be seen, which didn't sit very well with Lina.

Turning to see her sister Silvia move toward them, Lina nodded at the younger girl and moved toward her. "We are getting ready to mobilize and I will need assistance in rallying our brethren for the cause. Can you climb upon that large rock and use a bit of your magic to woo the hearts and minds of those around us?" Lina touched the girls pale face and offered her support before moving away to look across the valley. There would be death and devastation in their paths, but nothing that she would not survive.

Khelek approached and Lina pulled her magic deep within her, the fire of her touch and the heat of her very essence would harm him as he would harm her if they were not careful in each others presence. "Brother," she spoke loud and nodded in his direction, acknowledging him with a welcome that was sure to be misinterpreted amongst those that camped beside her.

Her fear was not linked to the hunters that gathered in the city just below them, but in the various beasts that prey upon living creatures that hovered just before them in their days to come. She would keep Vitra by her side, the woman sharp and strong, but her only care in a world of darkness. Her sister reminded her too much of her mother to allow anything to befall the girl and for that she would most likely give up her life or her will to rule if something should befall the shade.

"I wish..." she whispered as coldness struck her members. She smiled and laughed with evil intent at her father. "Bastard..." her words were cut short by her sister's greeting.

"Sister," she walked toward her and touched the other girl's shoulder, her red cloak befitting for the journey ahead of them. "You are coming, are you not?"

Sable ~ Witch

The feeling was very distinct. It was something that couldn't be mistaken for a mere chill or shiver and, despite another's opinion, Sable didn't find the weather to be such that it would induce such a feeling in any case. No, this was definitely... Spirit magic. It swirled, danced, and caressed Sable's physical being all while remaining perfectly invisible and intangible. At first it was awkward to the witch as she was not accustomed to being summoned by many in that manner, but she eventually understood the meaning. At least, she thought she did anyway. The magic seemed to compel and beckon her to move in the direction she had already been going - at least this was confirmation that she'd been going the right way. The large rock that only grew in size as she neared seemed to be the destination of which she was being beckoned towards. In her mind, this also meant that the Shade was expecting her. Maybe not her specifically, but he was expecting all his children.

Sable knew the Shade had fathered others. She'd been told as much by her mother, but her guardian couldn't shed light on the identities of the others - not even their genders. Suffice it to say, Sable could at least surmise that they were born with magical abilities, but she couldn't be sure of their nature. Even if the Shade was summoning them for some reason or purpose, who was to say that the other children didn't mind malevolence directed at their own. Who was to say for sure that Sable would be safe in a company of individuals seemingly like herself? Of course, Sable pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind for the moment. Why go into this situation with hasty ruminations at the very start? You couldn't just write people off so easily, especially when you hadn't even met them yet.

Sable stopped at the base of the large rock. It seemed absolutely gigantic up close, yet the climb to a spotted ledge wasn't as difficult as thought to be. In the distance, Sable could see figures and she took a deep breath before proceeding towards them. She'd never met the Shade or any of her other siblings and first impressions were everything. With a firmly blank look on her face, Sable made her way towards what she could make out to be at least a female and a male.

JOSHUA

Joshua stood in the entrance of the audience hall of the castle and looked around in wonder, the opulence displayed was astounding to say the least and showed nothing of the once rudimentary furnishings that was the castles beginnings in the days following the Tribal wars that eventually United all the nomadic Tribes under one banner. One item of particular interest was that of a Dragon cast in pure gold with emerald jewels for eyes, as he stepped closer to examine the detailed craft work of scales, he noticed the guards that had been at the entrance looking his way with puzzled expression, neither of two could recall granting the man standing too close to one of the Castles treasures admittance. Joshua made it a point to hold each of the guards gaze then turned his attention back to the halls gathered guests of the King as the guards shook their heads in unison, coming to the conclusion that someone else must of granted entrance to the well dressed gentleman as they turned back to their post.

Joshua's gaze scanned the room, the Hunters were easy to spot, not only for the fact they were brandishing weapons within the Kings castle, but there was also the defiant look in their eyes, swagger in their stride and a confidence that bordered on the edge of arrogance, or in one case for exceeding it. He watched as one Hunter wearing a mask as if this was a masquerade ball verbally accosted a young female servant, he turned and faced the young servant, smiled reassuringly and placed his hand upon the small of her back and spoke softly in a tone reminiscent of a Grandfather consoling a child,

" Your pardon m'lady, but might I trouble with a request for a mug of hot water if you please, it would be much appreciated". he could see the young servant girl was taken aback by his manner, and he bowed slighty.

"Y-yes... of course M'Lord", he heard her reply after a brief moment, then he watched as she hurried off to the to the cooking rooms, even ignoring request by other guests for drinks from her tray as she hustled passed them. Something alerted his senses and he turned to see a red haired woman walk across the audience hall, he got the sense that she was a person to be wary of, yet he had no explanation for the reason why. His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the servant girl with a steaming mug in hand which he took graciously and produced a glimmering red ruby gemstone and placed it in her hand, she started to speak but he placed the index finger of his right hand across her full lips,

" This gem will fetch you a Kings ransom, leave this place, collect your family and go to the southern most part of the region, go and hesitant not....GO", the last word came with such a commanding tone of voice that the young servant girl spun on her heels and fled the hall. He sat the mug on anearby table, took a pouch from a pocket and poured some of the contents into the mug, then picked up the mug and swirled it around in a circle in order to mix the contents.

"King Jermolt of Capernaum bids you all well and offers gratitude and hospitality to each of you. As you well know, darkness has slipped into the Carpathian mountains just beyond us and has riddled our land with their witchcraft which brings nothing but desolation and death. As such, we have employed each of you to assist us in a mission that is two-fold. First, something was stolen from our sacred chambers last night - the cup of Eden, which is said to hold the key to eternal life......Whether you believe the tales or not, we do and obviously the Shade, who is darkness incarnate does as well. We need the cup back and we need an end put to this madness,We will have a large feast and wine set before you in the other room. Please come and as you are settled in feel free to ask questions. The King himself with join us shortly and entertain your thoughts and preponderances. Rooms have been prepared for each of you and tomorrow morning is when the journey will began. Please come."

Joshua nearly lost his hold on the mug, not because of the suddenness of the announcement, but because of the subject of the announcement, the Cup of Eden. The lore of the Cup and been lost to the ages and would of remained so had not the person making the announcement blurted out the potential of the Cup, now every fortune hunter and relic thief would get word of the cup missing and seek the cup for a gain of a large sum of gold coins. As the gathered guest's began to make their way to the Dining hall a cloaked feminine figure entered the hall then stopped to wait as the guard that escorted her in ran off, though the intent may of been one of concealment, the finery and embroidery of the cloak and the elegance of unhumanly grace, even in the simplest of movements, revealed to him whom and what the cloaked figure was, if any race understood the significance of the Cup of Eden, it would be the Elven.

Joshua was contemplating a way of introduction when suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck raised, a sense of dark magic being conjured tickled his Dragon nature causing him to frown, though he could pick up on the sensations, in human form he was unable to gauge its intent, forgetting for a moment the presence of the Tel'Quessir woman, he turned and went to a nearby window and stared out in the direction of the Carpathian Mountains intensely.

Damn double posts

Roark – Warlock

A hulking figure walked through the forests nearby the Caparthian mountains, heading towards the desolate range with a sense of meandering purpose. Was he moving in a serpentine fashion to avoid being tracked by the menagerie of nightmarish beasts that prowled in those woods? Did he know of the dangers of the mountains he was heading too? Or was he just a foolish adventurer who had gotten lost after having one to many at one of the remote inns?

None of those were actually the case, as this journey was more forced upon him than anything else. You see, this intimidating brute of a man wasn't actually a man at all, but a child of the Shade. Though he did a good job of keeping himself inconspicuous by donning the garb of a mercenary or adventurer. Even then, it helped that his armor was adorned with all manner of teeth and claws from the beasts he had slain in his journey for solitude. Add on the massive battle axe across his back and the one handed war hammer at his hip, the intimidation factor was complete. Of course, there will always be those that don't get the message and try to approach him, but luckily for them this sorcerer is a different breed than the vile siblings he was on his way to meet. Unlike the others, who are more than happy to spread mayhem wherever they go, Roark was more fond of being alone and away from the mortals. Sure he had the evil energy burning within him like all the others, but for some reason Roark didn't crave power and destruction like the rest did.

Sadly, this didn't mean he could opt out of a direct summons from his “father”, since open defiance would lead to certain death. This is of course the reason for him zig-zagging his way there, for as long as he was headed in the direction of the meeting place, it didn't matter whether he got there first or last. As he drew close to the mountains, Roark cleared his mind, not wanting to expend any of his valuable energy worrying over things that had no real significance on him.

The steep climb up the unforgiving rock face was nothing for Roark, heaving himself up onto the final ledge that had an oddly out of place path leading away from it. Walking along it, Roark made no attempts to approach conservatively, as he stopped right on the edge of the group gathered at the end of the path heading down the other side of the mountain.

“So, what does he want now?” Roark said, his deep voice seeming to emanate around them, surprising those that didn't hear him approach.

Zara - Witch

A foreign force seemed to rustle her spirit, just as her ears rang with the sound of an inaudible voice calling out to her. She inhaled sharply, a chill running up and down her spine until she exhaled again, but calmly. Zara sat up on her bed, silver eyes searching the room suspiciously as she stepped down onto the lush carpet. There that feeling was again, beckoning and calling to her. Now that she was completely awake, she could fully comprehend why her spirit had become restless all of a sudden. She knew it wouldn't stop until she obeyed, and if it was to be The Shade's will that would be in her best interest. A pearly white canine bit down into the corner of her bottom lip before sighing heavily. Zara already had her whole day planned out, and now things weren't going to go the way she wanted. She absolutely loathed when things didn't go her way. A small smile crossed her lips at how much of a diva she was being over being summoned. Thanks a lot, father... Zara knew she probably got that part of her personality from her father The shade, because her mother was the most patient woman she had ever known and didn't mind going out of her way for others.

Zara reached for her purple satin cloak and tied it loosely around her collar before pulling her hood over her head. She patted her satchel lightly, feeling around with her fingertips to make sure Luke was secure in his pocket. The silver-haired beauty stepped outside onto the cobblestones laid out in front of her door, and felt her spirit stir even more. Something was definitely amiss, and she had a feeling she would find out very soon. Her eyes immediately went to the tallest mountain in the horizon, and she knew that was where she needed to go. Zara was surprised she had been so close to her father this whole time, and rejoiced in the fact that she wouldn't have to use up a lot of energy traveling there.

Sun kissed eyelids veiled her silver eyes as she concentrated on her element. The wind around her picked up in speed, causing everything around her to dance and sway. Within five seconds, her large eyes had opened and she was being launched into the air with the wind under her feet. Above the tree line, she could see everything clearly. Zara willed the wind to carry her to her destination, and it did just that at a speed she had never experienced before. Perhaps her powers were eager to reunite with him as well.

Vitralese-Witch

Vitralese watched as the different siblings made their way forward, having dismounted her jet black stallion once she had reached the edge of camp. Some of the men and women were familiar to her, such as Khelek, but only in name and power. She had heard of many of her sibling’s existence, manly through her father’s rants and whispering of spirits but had never met any of them. Vitralese had been kept in her father’s domain for the entirety of her life, even her mother had been kept close before her birth, and it was rare that she was even allowed to leave the mountain where the Shade watched over her every move. Only Lina and their brother Acride had ever set eyes upon the woman and so now the meeting of so many felt odd and uncomfortable.

Vitra watched as Lina spoke softly to a young one, a child of pale skin and dark hair. She was so young Vitra doubted she had even seen the moonlight since the girl was born, until tonight at least. She hoped the child had not bitten off more than she could chew; she was too young to even be here and Lina had to know it too. Vitra watched as her sister greeted their siblings each as they arrived, waiting for them all to appear before she explained the gravity of their duty. Vitra herself did not know what their quest was but the fact that she stood there, her blood red cape pulled over her head and wrapped around her body, meant it was important. She knew the Shade’s lenience in letting her leave was not to simply to allow her to ‘prove herself worth,’ he did not give two shits about what others thought but he did have his own motives. Vitralese was to be allowed this last adventure out in the world, a sort of farewell, to settle her spirit before returning to take on what she knew would be her new duties. Also the Shade did not trust Lina and Vitra knew she was to act as a sort or spy on her own sister, a thing she disliked very much.

As Lina mad her way over Vitra smiled, raising her head so her glowing pale skin could be seen in the darkness. As the sibling met they embrace, a flash of Vitra’s bejeweled white floor length dress could be seen in the darkness. “Of course my Lina. I would not miss a chance to go with you.”

A sigh of relief touched Lina's lips as she worried for her sister. Something about the way the shade spoke to the girl set her nerves on edge. "I should hope not, but one can never be assured of the restrictions put upon us."

Vitralese’s smile faltered as she nodded. “You are right sister.” She looked at the fire behind her sister, where she had been apparently living and shifted. She had not been pleased at her sister’s mistreatment by their father. “Perhaps soon things will become easier for you.” She felt her soft smile come again as she looked at her sister with kind but sad eyes. Soon she would have more influence than she had now and only hoped to make her sister’s life a bit easier. “Now what is it we are doing?”

Lina ignored the kindness in her sister's gaze, unwilling to acknowledge her care for their father, but feeling much more comfort in holding closely her angst. "We are to take the cup and see if we cannot gain access to the ancient language that holds its power at bay. I'm headed now to collect the item. Gather the rest of our brothers and sisters and let us meet at the bottom of the valley?"

Vitra shifted. “I do not know. I do not know these…people but for you I can.” Vitra had never met any other Shade child but for Lina and Acride, her father had kept her well hidden. “When do we leave?”

Lina smiled, letting her face soften only a little. "We will leave within the hour. Night is a greatest protection against the forces rousing in the large city-state below. Thank you for your help and stay close to me as we make this journey, my sister." Lina touched her sister’s cloak again and moved quickly into the shadows to obtain the object that was assured to be their undoing

Vitra nodded, pleased not to be traveling in the light of the day, and watched as her sister moved out before stepping forward and lowered her hood to reveal her soft brown hair and smoother, delicate features. She looked about to the siblings she had never met, her eyes once again hard and almost emotionless with her spirit shifting inside them.

“We have not met. My name is Vitralese.”

Arlese-Hunter

Arlese stood where she had been left, not moving at all but seeming as if she could have been a statue and almost forgotten about by those around her. She was not sure how much the king and she would be able to speak as it was very unlikely he spoke elvish and her own human was rusty at best. The Woad were taught to speak human but only out of tradition and a worry it might be necessary…for some reason. The elvish had not dealt with human’s for centuries and there was little speech between the elvish and a child of evil whom almost always were half human. It seemed that tradition was about to pay off, though to what extent was still to be seen.

As the other hunters milled about and were served food a man stepped forward and began to speak, forcing Arlese to concentrate hard to understand what was being said. As the man spoke Arlese jerked her head suddenly, understanding the words Cup of Eden perfectly. “Amada.” She cursed the man under her breath and pressed her small hand into her forehead. These imbecils had not even somehow discovered the damn cup but had left it improperly guarded and then announced the whole affair to a room full of possible unscrupulous characters and under paid servants. The news would be half way across the kingdom before they even left to recover it. Well-armed but poorly trained humans would be coming out of the woodwork, as the human’s said, to try and take the cup only to be cut down by the ruthless children of the shade. All because some human king couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

As Arlese cursed she could not help but look about to see the responses of the other hunter, one catching her eye. “Ed' i'ear ar' elenea!” She closed her eyes a few times but the feeling that emanated from the man was decidedly not human. There was no way….was there? For the first time since her arrival Arlese moved, making her way silently over to the well-dressed man where she stopped and spoke loud enough for only him to hear.

“Hir vuin, elen sila lumenn omentilmo.”She bent here head softly in a sign of respect, but not so much as to gather attention, before returning it to look upon him. “Edaved amin ten’ il fein amindoltelme, nan’ oline boe. Im Arlese, sai late a’ oment lle. Tel’ re na mori manka lle ier kuile.” Her voice was small and soft as it came from her bark colored hood, her black hair hidden in the shadows.


A servant made her way up and offered her a wine goblet, looking a bit quizzical, but Arlese simply put her hand up and shook her head with a smile. “No alcohol. You have…uh like from fruit?”

“Juice?”

“Yes! You have juice?” Arlese knew that in such a large city the water would be unsafe for her to drink and while she was technically allowed to drink the milk of an animal while on her trip she did not yet feel it necessary.

“What kind would you like my lady?”

Crap…another question. “Any.” That was the easiest answer and it seemed to please the woman as she then turned and made her way to the kitchen, unsure of the woman’s accent. This was going to be hard.

Sors "Is having fun being a sassy old men" Kelden - Hunter

Sors looked at the grinning man in front of him, some might of made the comparison to that he looked like the personification of death himself. He was younger then Sors but still leaning on the older side of those gathered by the king. Looking into the man's eyes he saw death and the cold bitterness that he knew far too well, the man was no stranger to violence or the horrors that the world held within its self. When Sors was a younger man he would of probably struck out against him, arrogant and hotheaded that he was. But in his ageing state he knew that any violence would be utterly pointless, fools don't learn lessons through getting smacked around after all it only proves to them that their course of action is more exciting. Instead Sors just gave a grin back to the man, as he walked over to him and put his goblet down on the table.

"Believe me my good man! I would in a heartbeat and get away from all this unnecessary slaughter. But the fact of the matter is my grandchildren are far away from here and a journey to go be with them would take a long and arduous journey. This is of course in accordance to the fact that they do not exist, much like my children and my wife. For when you spend your youth charging down the countryside, chasing monsters hiding in the shadows and trying to anger men that could kill you quicker then most men could draw their blade... well you never really have much time to settle down and start a family."

Sors told the man with a knowing smile on his face and with the tone of that of a grandfather chastising a young grandson. He picked up the goblet once more and took another drag of it, personally to him the drink was too sweet, he preferred his alcohol like he preferred his women; cold and bitter. After he was done, he turned to address the man again, a smile still on his face his pleasant demeanor never breaking for a moment.

"But of course, as you stated previously I'm not as young and agile as I once was. You never know, on our grand adventure my fragile old bones my break and wear due to the cold, and if that happens. Well I suppose the strapping young lads that have seemed to congregate here could easily carry me, up harsh mountainous trails and through poisonous life consuming bogs. Maybe you could ask the Shade if one of his abominations could act as mount for us to carry me? I've seen them destroy whole villages, I think carrying a little ageing old man on its back would be no problem at all... Oh right most of them are dead already because of old men like me. Well I guess we just have to hope that your back doesn't give out carrying me then." Sors told the men, before giving a polite nod and sauntering away from him, his large oaken staff padding against the floors as he went, with the dignified movement of a grand duke at a ball his long cloak seemingly floating along the floor with him, as he maneuvered his way through the group of people and back to his corner by the fireplace.

Jonathan - Hunter

"I'm not a good man, old man," He said with a smirk," And no matter how fast you think you are, I am faster. I'm faster than you were when you were young, old man, and far more deadly. But the use of words to describe combat are cheap. I wouldn't carry you if your brittle bones broke. I would put you out of your misery like an old horse with a broken leg, without a second's hesitation.As for the Shade's abominations, I know you speak truth on that count, granddaddy. I'm one of them," His grin was there again, and he licked his teeth. The old man had never encountered one like him. Like the troop of men that had come to find him in his commune with his mother, coming out of that forest with more than half of their troop dead, the rest severely wounded. But the man moved away, senile old thing that he was. Probably not understanding what he meant. Nobody would believe that he was the Shade's Spawn once, brought back to the world of mortals but for the unwanted kindness of an old and powerful monk. His destiny stolen in an effort to save his fading life.

The thought put him in a darker mood than usual, more violent and deadlier than usual as he placed his cup on the table, his eyes darkening. He wasn't hungry anymore. Not for food anyways. Grimbold had warned him of it. He was always an arrogant and irritating pompous ass to everyone for a reason. If he didn't get out the constant anger that moved through him, the darkness that had been forever chained inside him, it would break loose. He enjoyed it, like a touch of that old darkness that he had reveled in as a youth, but Grimbold told him that the Good Book demanded that his dark ways of the past were in the past. His dark gifts were to be used for the fighting of evil now, or not at all. He wasn't supposed to be this close to the edge now, but that old man, in his arrogant speaking of the killing of his brothers and sisters, even if the lesser ones, drew on that darkness and brought it dangerously to the edge.

He lowered his mask again, his every movement slow and steady, ignoring the fact that many other were moving into the hall. They were moving around him, some not even noting how close they were to him and bumping his shoulder. His hand flickered out and grabbed one of them by the arm, his terrifying eyes gripping the man's soul in a cold grip, his fingers a mere press from sending three blessed blades into his chest, wreaking life-threatening damage inside.

But he needed to control himself. Grimbold wouldn't allow a massacre inside a palace, especially if there were other hunters there. They combated the darkness, like he did, in their own, futile ways, and he needed to respect that. Shaking, he released the man, who stumbled back and ran away from him. He needed to calm down. Shuddering softly, he brought some form of control over himself. It wouldn't last long, but Grimbold would want him to be a part of the ceremonies, even if he didn't eat. He moved along with the crowd into the feasting hall, slinking into a shadow-filled corner, avoiding the firelight.

Dammit thought this was the ooc window, sorry.

JOSHUA

His attention was drawn from the window by the approaching of the cloaked form, and although covered from head to the top of her doeskin boots, the Elven cloak could not hide the fluid and graceful movements of the feminine form it covered as she came towards him. Despite her apparent desire for discretion, he noted the slight bow of her head, a discrete display of greeting in way of respect, something lost among humans and probably would of led to a lot less conflicts between their own kind had they even a tenth of civility as the Elves.

Though her voice was hushed for only him to hear, it seemed as if a symphony, the inflection of tone and variance of pitch so common in the Elven language and that also made it to difficult for none Elven races to master was like music to his ears, as welcoming as the morning song of the birds in greeting of dawn. As she spoke her melodious words, he was reminded of how intuitive the Elven were and her acknowledgement of what he was without saying so in direct fashion caused him to smile. As she continued to speak, he took in a wisp of her scent, the scent of the White Barks upon her flawless skin caused within him an instant and deep longing to see those ancient woods once more. He could also sense her pureness of both heart and spirit but which also held a disciplined control of anger and a measured degree of hatred for the dark one.

Her scent combined with the knowledge of what he was, told him what she was almost instantly, a Maiden of the Woad. He was taken slightly of guard by the fact, he had known Woad before, had even fought along side them to protect the White Kingdom, but that had been centuries upon centuries ago, but still, his memory was good enough to remember he had never encountered a Woad as young as she before, a Woad Warden was well into their mid hundreds and endured a near endless series of tests and trials before earning the right to go about on their own.

He was about to respond when one of the other Servant girls stopped to make inquiry of either of in need of drink, he raised his mug in response and then drank from it as the girl and Arlese exchanged words, he had to bite back a snicker as the Elven Maiden struggled ever so slightly with human speech, if she only knew how humans, at best, butchered putting to Elven words together, let alone full sentences.
As the Servant girl excused herself and made her way to the kitchen, he called out to her, "I believe M'Lady would care for some pear juice, in fact make it two, if you would be so kind, Thank you", He turned back to Arlese then matched her bow of the head with his own," My pardon M'Lady, if I spoke too boldly on your behalf", he took a quick glance about to be sure no one was in earshot of his words before matching her hushed tones with his own,

"Cormamin lindua ele lle, Arwen en amin. Oio naa elealla alasse', ele-Tel'Quessir ero au', Nae saian luume', Amin estela ta nauva anlema n'ala lye kirma rimbor.

Ar' Amin weera yassen lle, var-lye ai'Oline, nan' ten' sii', Tula, vasa ar´ yulna en i' mereth...Uuma ma' ten' rashwe sii', ta tuluva a' lye rato faarea... Amin'm Joshua".



Just then trumpets blared loudly pronouncing the coming of the King and they watched as in typical overly ornate and gallant fashion the King entered the hall full of guests.