TheDoctor

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

The Next Morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

Viva la Vida: The Price of Freedom (Closed)

Riccun Marr

The Exiled Lord Riccun of House Marr

Race: Human

Faction: Rebellion

Age: 28

Description: Riccun stands with a regal posture at almost all times (except when he is drinking), remaining composed and intimidating. His height is around 6'1" (1.8 meters) with a healthy physique. Riccun is usually wearing his noble attire to retain his presence to others and remind them of his class. He keeps his facial hair light and his hair cut short. A sword is almost always attached to his belt, but it has hardly ever seen actual fighting.

Personality: Riccun keeps a reputation of an intimidating presence, yet to close friends he shows a relaxed attitude. He tends to keep quiet about his own poor drinking choices, and most of the time does not acknowledge they exist. Despite the flaw, Riccun remains loyal to the rebellion, and has a personal hatred towards the king.

"Class": Nobleman

Motivation: Desires to get his revenge on the king and reclaim his land.

History: Riccun was the only son born into House Marr, a once proud and rich house that was beginning to crumble from its rival houses. While his family owned the city Curant in name, many other nobles were beginning to leech from mines and gain control wherever they could. When Riccun’s father died when Riccun was only thirteen, many predicted the collapse of House Marr. However, Riccun was a stubborn one, even at his young age.

Trained endlessly by his mother and any other tutor that could he hired, Riccun learned the ins and outs of politics and logistics. Slowly, year by year, the nobleman was able to use his developed skills to save his own house and increase its power. The road was never smooth, and there were multiple points many thought he would fail, but Riccun barely managed to hold on each time. House Marr gained control of Curant and its mines once more, and proved itself as a powerhouse in the kingdom.

Then a time came on the prospect of marriage for the young man. With no other successors, House Marr would be empty upon his death. He was offered the hands of many fair ladies, but started quite the controversy when he married an elf of all people. Her name was Fevra, and Riccun loved her with all his heart. It was not an easy path to get the marriage done, and afterwards the king had his eye fixed on the noble.

The final straw towards Riccun’s exile was a sad tale. A noble of a lesser house accused an elf to have murdered his wife, and demanded his execution. As the lord over Curant, Riccun stood to judge the ordeal, and listened carefully to each side. A letter from the king arrived the second day into the trial, commanding Riccun to favor the noble to prove his loyalty. The letter stressed Riccun more than anything, and for days he did not sleep as he continued to delay a verdict.

Evidence surmounted that the lesser noble was the true killer of his wife, and from Fevra’s encouragement to do the right thing, Riccun declared the lesser noble guilty and hanged him the day after. Riccun sent a hasty letter to the king explaining his decision, but it was already too late to remain a loyal noble.

The king had sent a regiment of the Vanguard itself to deal with the nobleman. They slaughtered Riccun’s personal guard without mercy, and dragged Fevra out of her chambers. Riccun was caught off guard and was too late in making an escape plan for him and his wife to flee the city. Through means of evasion and jumping out a window, Riccun barely managed to escape, but watched in horror among the crowd as the Vanguard publicly executed his wife. He fled Curant with a few loyal followers soon after. His escape confounded the Vanguard, and the noble has been in hiding ever since, most only ever hearing rumors of his whereabouts.

Strengths:
Is a brilliant strategist
Extremely persuasive when he needs to be
Skilled in logistical studies

Weakness:
Indecisive at times
Is not the best on actual combat
Fixated on reclaiming Curant

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Riccun has developed a drinking problem after his exile, and has a tendency to disappear at least one night a week.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Flirting at its Finest (Hoes Take NOTE)

Collab between Emiliah @ellion and Matrim @TheDoctor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Mistakes are Made

Matrim
Edge of Seren’s Folly
With Emiliah @Ellion and Andvari @Fetzen

Matrim’s spear plunged right into the head of the nearest goblin, then whipped it out and stabbed another shit who was biting onto his leg. Both goblins fell dead, and Matrim breathed heavily as he realized that was the last two attacking him for now.

Corpses laid all around from where he came from, and blood dripped everywhere off of him. The smell was absolutely nauseating, making it difficult for him to keep going. He was finally at the town, to what he thought was safe. Escaping one problem and onto the next, he thought bitterly. The time allowed him to reload his pistol, which was a delicate and excruciatingly long procedure. “I swear I’ll just get one of those small crossbows or something when I can and finally be rid of this useless shit,” he muttered as he poured the firing powder down the chamber.

The hunter could hear the noise of the rest of the goblin horde within the city. Judging by the amount he’d already fought, he imagined the place swarming with the things. Finished reloading, Matrim picked up the pace but slowed as a woman had escaped from the crowd and was heading towards him. She seemed in a similar state to him, but also had a bolt lodged in her arm.

The bolt confused Matrim, who knew no goblin would ever actually use a crossbow, especially a heavy one to launch a bolt like that. He looked past the woman and noticed a man on a roof looking in this direction. He seemed the likely culprit, holding a crossbow and all. The whole scene seemed so strange for Matrim, who grew ever more confused.

There was little time to be wasting, the goblins would likely notice them soon, and there were others in the town that obviously needed some aid, especially the woman with the bolt in the arm. He made a step towards her, but looked back up at the man, then back up at the woman, then back at the man. From the undead, to goblins, and now a man shooting a woman while there was too many goblins. It was quite enough for Matrim at the moment.

“You people make no damned sense,” he muttered, then raised the flintlock and fired at the man.

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Aromull
Enjoying his time in the middle of a goblin raid
Near @Aerandir @Kitty @Bright_Ops @ghastlyInc

A knife had suddenly entered into the skull of the goblin that had tackled Aromull, which caused the goblin to die and fall off of him. Looking over from where the knife came from, Aromull saw the woman who possessed medical skills, and now appeared to also be quite capable in knife throwings into goblin heads. “Thank you madam!” Aromull called out to the woman, who likely didn’t hear him over everything else going on.

Unfortunately the scholar was not given quite enough time to get back up as several more goblins pinned him back down. “Oh dear, not again,” he muttered while shaking his head and attempting to get the goblins off of him. Really should have been more careful, ah what a shame, he thought.

However, it was not the scholar’s time to be murdered, as the goblins were suddenly beaten with an illustrious man with a silver cane. The three goblins were defeated, and allowed Aromull to regain his footing.

“Thank you my good sir,” Aromull said, standing and brushing off some of the blood as though it were simple dust. “Quite a good show with that cane!” He was about to join back into the fray but faltered as he looked over at Flint who was currently taunting the goblins with a chicken. “Quite an unusual strategy against goblins. Most of the time I believe you want to not get swarmed with all of them while you dangle one of their gods in the air, but to each their own. What do you think?” he asked the man who had recently saved him, even if he had already left to fight more goblins.

The woman with medical skills was attacking once more, but no longer with the knives and instead a sword. The goblins seemed to actually fear her, but Aromull was unable to tell exactly why from his current angle as he was unable to see the black eyes.

More goblins were heading towards the raised chicken, and made Aromull realize he should probably be attempting to help. Well back into the fray once more. Try not to exceed your luck again, I really want to make a chapter on witches first, he thought as he stepped in front of several goblins and began to fight.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Matrim
Heading down the mountain, at the edge of Seren’s Folly

Smoke caught Matrim’s attention, smoke coming from not very far. It did not seem of the ordinary type, and had started too suddenly to be normal. “Town, or bonfire? Or town in a bonfire?” he wondered under his breath. He began to run towards the smoke’s direction, slightly glad to be finally back on trail. Whatever it was, he would arrive soon enough.

He was slightly out of breath as he began to hear noise to his left. Curious, he looked over to see a mass of goblins also running towards the smoke. “Goblins?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Of all the creatures to see, he was not expecting goblins. “Goblins!” he yelled out, now excited. Goblins! It was perfect! Perfect perfect! Some of the goblins had apparently heard his shout, and were now approaching him. Matrim once again attached the spearhead to his staff, and looked at the smoke and then the goblins who were approaching.

Upon reconsideration, Matrim was beginning to regret his excited shout. He had attracted a few goblins. Nevermind, a large amount of goblins. Oh god, how many goblins were there?

“Mistakes were made!” Matrim shouted to himself before running down the mountain towards the smoke. He ran fast, but goblins had a tendency of sometimes catching up. They would approach and leap towards him, and Matrim would have to stab the little shit before it could pin the hunter to the ground. If he fell at all during this moment, it would likely be over for him. Goblins were perverted bastards, and would ensure his death would be painful and embarrassing. No hunter wanted their gravestone to be: RIP this experienced hunter of great legend who killed something scary, then got raped and eaten by goblins of all things.

A wonderful root likely designed to ruin Matrim’s life suddenly caught his foot and sent him careening to the ground. Being on a slope Matrim rolled slightly before stopping and allowing him to curse the tree and rue the day it was planted before having to get up and run again. Unfortunately the fall was long enough to allow several goblins to catch up to him, one snatching and grabbing onto his leg. The grab sent Matrim back to the ground, who then stabbed the shitty goblin responsible for the fall. Two more goblins piled on, and Matrim drew a flintlock pistol and shot one right in the chest. The noise of the pistol going off sent harsh ear-splitting noise through his head due to the shot being way too close, but at least he murdered the goblin. The second goblin Matrim grabbed onto and shoved it off, allowing him to stand and stab the shit in the head. More goblins came and more goblins were slain. Matrim’s blood spilled out from multiple wounds from too close of encounters, especially on his legs.

By the time he got to the bottom of the mountain, he and his spear was soaked in both goblin blood and his own, and was not even close to done yet. More goblins came towards the hunter, and Matrim focused on keeping upright while ending the life of each little shit that dared approach him. He was near where the smoke was now, but couldn’t even concentrate on that as he continued fending off each and every goblin.

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

Aromull
Outside Witches Paradise
Near whoever is close

The thrill of going out to witness the hunting of wendigos was temporarily delayed due to the strange incursion of a goblin attack on the town. Hunters began to rush out and combat the new threat, as all were easily able to capably slay a multitude of the curious creatures.

Aromull followed behind Flint out the door, still holding out his notepad. Goblins were a measly group of rather strange creatures that he technically already had a chapter on, but he was never one to turn down too much information, especially with an attack of this caliber. Creature seems to be easily distracted with its current task, and fall for the simplest of taunts such as bellowing out a challenge, he wrote while gazing at Bobby who was currently fighting off multiple goblins with ease.

“I wonder why goblins would attack here. These creatures don’t ever seem to like approaching towns, especially large ones such as this. You think they were riled up somehow, or perhaps driven by desperation? Or maybe there was a rival horde or monstrous creature who drove them out of their lands. Wendigos are unlikely, but it is a possibility I suppose. What do you think?” He asked, glancing over at Flint, who was currently crushing a goblin that made the odd decision to jump on the veteran hunter’s back. It was a bit of overkill, and the goblin was certainly dead after Flint rammed his back into the building.

“Very interesting method,” the scholar commented, who was still writing a few notes. Does not seem to care about or analyze threats, even obviously dangerous ones. This is perhaps due to a frenzied mode while in the moment of raids such as the current one I am witnessing. Death does not seem to matter to many, or is at the very least not considered. Overwhelming targets is the obvious tactic, and can be quite effective.

Aromull’s writing was cut a bit short as he became the target of one of the goblins. The goblin did not hesitate to jump at him, but missed aiming for the chest as the scholar took a small step backwards and instead landed on Aromull’s leg. Regardless of missing, the goblin decided to start digging in, slicing through Aromull’s pants and painfully clawing at his legs. Aromull gritted his teeth and halted himself before a curse exited his mouth, cursing was not very gentlemanlike. “Oh very well,” he said unamused. He had been hoping to write a few more observations before assisting, but the number of goblins was too great for Aromull to be ignored entirely by the creatures.

A swift kick from the scholar’s foot set back the goblin a few paces, giving him enough time to tuck away his notepad and unsheath his sword. The weapon was of shortsword variant, about three-quarters the length of a regular longsword, seemed to be of a delicate and expensive brand, and would be considered by many hunters too clean. Aromull had to admit he hadn’t used the shortsword in quite some time, as many expeditions with other hunters had deemed him unnecessary to ever actually fight, which he was always quite alright with.

The goblin was back on its feet and jumped again at Aromull, who was prepared this time with a simple jab into the creature’s chest. The goblin was stopped and fell back onto the ground, wounded but not dead. Two more goblins nearby suddenly leaped out at Aromull, one slashing at and trying to pin his right arm down. “They seem to be attempting to restrain my limbs and allow others to take advantage, how interesting!” he analyzed as he sliced at the goblin who was holding the arm. “Unfortunate for it to go for the arm without the weapon.” The goblin previously injured was back on its feet, and leaped right at Aromull and was able to knock his balance off and take him down on the ground. Aromull began to wrestle with the creature, trying to get his shortsword in the correct direction to impale the creature. “Ah, foolish of me to underestimate them!” he commented as he continued to struggle, not seeming very worried or stressed over his precarious situation.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Aromull
At Witches Paradise
Replying to @Bright_Ops
Near @Kitty@Aerandir@Ellion

The scholar took notes as the tall hunter next to him explained the basics of wendigos on his notepad. He had several accounts of the creatures, but found it necessary to always write down as many accounts as possible in order to cross-examine which information was reliable. “I see...I see!” He said enthusiastically to the man.

Bobby called out and asked who’d be ready for the hunt, to which Aromull raised up a hand slightly before going back to finishing his notes. “It would be wonderful to see the creatures in action, and I’d be happy to help out where I can,” he said. Aromull supposed he was quite ready for an excursion, having never settled down after coming all this way here. It wasn’t witches, but certainly watching other hunters perform their work would be quite intriguing, and of all creatures it was the fascinating wendigos! “Should we be off soon? I presume it’s rather dangerous to let the beautiful creatures be so close to humans.”

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Matrim
Roaming through the forest
No one nearby

The hunter did not walk for very far, having to stop and sit against a tree. He felt what normally overwhelmed him in these moments, and needed to cool his head. “No...no…” he whispered, one hand on his forehead. “Not again, you can’t do this again. You said you were done! No more witches, no more!”

They killed him, he thought. He must be avenged! We MUST find the killer! “I don’t even know who he is anymore!” He yelled out, then attempted to calm himself. “It’s okay...it’s alright...everything is fine…” Matrim stood and clutched his quarterstaff tighter. “Just keep moving...just keep moving…” He walked through the forest slowly, as if the next step could possibly send him down to Hell. His head ached horribly, but he kept moving. Issue was, he was so focused on just taking more steps that he had forgotten which direction he was actually supposed to go.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Taran, Celosia, and Matrim

Guest Starring: .TOD
@Ellion @kitty @TheDoctor

Collab

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NO! NOT AGAIN! Do NOT think the word.

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

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Matrim
Forest outside Goldencrest
With @ellion and @kitty

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

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

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

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

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Aromull
Witches Paradise
Annoying Flint [@aer] with questions

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

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

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Matrim
Goldencrest
Mentioning @Whoami
Interaction with @Ellion and @Kitty

Matrim jumped as he heard someone shout at him. Apparently some of those people were in here as well. Her title she gave to her group seemed strange, huntsmen of the royal court? He didn’t even know there was a royal court, though that was likely his fault. Before he could respond the people seemed to become quickly distracted with something and it sounded like they left. Oh, problem solved, he thought.

It wasn’t a few moments later when fog began to settle in, a thick fog making it impossible to see in front of him. “The hell?” He asked aloud.

A scream sounded off at the edge of town. A scream that ripped through the soul; unnatural, wrong, and like it was bursting out of someone on their last breath as some demonic entity was devouring their insides. Matrim cringed at the sound of it, and then heard movement nearby. Entering the room was an undead creature, likely a former resident of the town, who now likely wanted to murder the hunter.

The undead shambled towards him, and when it was a few feet closer Matrim stabbed his spear right into the thing’s neck. The stabbing did absolutely nothing and the undead took another step towards him. “Oh go back to hell ya shit!” The hunter pulled back and flipped his spear over to the blunt end, slamming it against the leg of the creature. This actually worked, causing the undead to fall and making the head the victim of Matrim’s boot. The undead stopped its movements, for now at least.

“Of all the damn things to fight, you gave me the one bloody thing I can’t stab,” Matrim muttered as he unscrewed his spear tip and tied it back on his belt loop. His spear would have to go back to being a quarterstaff for now, but he could not fight many with the blunt weapon. More movements sounded from outside, including the whinny of a horse, probably from the carriage. He heard a scream in the very tavern he was in, and ran in to see a huntsman dogpiled on by multiple undead. They were tearing at his flesh, ripping him to pieces. The man was far from dead, and all Matrim could do was take advantage of the distraction and exit the building.

He ran to the center of the street, but with the fog so thick it was so difficult to know where he was going. “Oh come on, come on…” he muttered, spinning in circles to try and figure out where to go. The undead chose his direction for him, approaching him on all sides except one.

The hunter turned towards the open spot and ran, skirting around the undead who came near him. Several times they surprised him and almost tackled him to the ground, but a quick move with his quarterstaff felled the creatures. The fog didn’t seem as concentrated on the outskirts of town, and Matrim could only tell he had reached the forest when he nearly ran straight into a tree.

All manner of curses came out of his mouth at that moment as he continued to run. He wasn’t sure if the undead were still following, and turned his head to see anything, which was likely the second dumbest thing he had done today as he couldn’t see anything through the fog. He was so preoccupied with his own stupidity that when he turned his head back he suddenly ran right into a boy that also happened to be running in the forest.

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Aromull
Speaking with Bobby [@Aer] inside Witches Paradise (mentioning @blackdragon and @kitty )

Right Before Flint’s Entrance

Bobby nodded in thanks to Aromull, as he pulled his hand back. His hands full with cups and pitcher. He turned and placed them on the back counter as he continued to explain why he was looking for him. He looked back over his shoulder to show he was still listening as he cleaned a few of the cups quickly. Then pouring a new drink in them.

When he found out he was trying to compile knowledge of the supernatural into a book. He turned around, interested now that someone other than the damn church was trying to compile this stuff. He glanced at the pages, recognizing most of the sketches in his book.

He chuckled. When he asked for a few questions. He was sure it was going to be more than a ‘few’. He didn’t look like a guy who could handle himself so he shrugged. But he didn’t say anything.

He then decided to ask why he named his tavern the way he did. He gave a mischievous grin. As he scratched the back of his head. He was drunk when he asked the carpenter to make it and wasn’t talking straight. Lazy at first to correct it but it grew on him. Later finding it fit the place perfectly.

Chuckling “Well because it's full of items that can send witches to their paradise.” He swept his hand behind him full of supplies ranging from herbs to powder, holy water to silver laced weapons. “Anything and everything that can help them reunite with their fallen angel of a ‘husband’.”

Aromull gave a nod and took out a small notepad that was in one of his pockets. He quickly wrote a couple notes from Bobby’s answer, and also noted the variety of weapons available. “I see, I see. So why-” he was interrupted by the sudden opening of the tavern door and the spilling out of a man, likely a hunter, who was suffering from several gregious wounds. “Oh dear, that gentleman does not seem to be in the best shape,” Aromull said as Bobby rushed over and started barking commands to everyone else.

He watched as one woman also began barking commands and starting applying medical aid to the wounded hunter. Her methods seemed decent enough, especially with the conditions she was confined to. One other woman approached and placed her hands on the man’s forehead and said something that was drowned out with the rest of the noise in the tavern. This second woman seemed disappointed with her own results, and Aromull had no idea what she had been expecting.

The scholar managed to get a seat at a table next to the three, sitting up straighter to get a better look at the wounds, focusing on the more serious ones. He made a quick sketch of all of them on a scaled body, noting the specific placement of each wound. Every injury was part of the story, and would also be helpful when he learned what creature had done such an act later.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Aromull
Witches Paradise
Speaking with Bobby @Aerandir

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Aromull was quite used to everyone outside of Ninevar saying he spoke rather oddly. He really should change his wording and accent around but he still had the mentality that saying anything lower would be of insult to those he spoke with.

The scholar followed behind the girl, or Lil Red or Hood as she proclaimed to be called, and at last arrived at the counter to meet her uncle. The girl seemed to struggle with repeating his words to her, but managed to get them correctly and walked off to continue working. "Thank you madam!" He called out as the girl walked away to serve more drinks. Aromull turned to the man that was confirmed to be Bobby. Secretly, a wave of relief went through him with the knowledge his entire journey actually lead to something this time.

"Ah yes, so good to finally meet you sir! My name is Aromull, I'm a graduate scholar from the school of Ninevar," he extended his hand but reclined to not interfere with Bobby's work of preparing drinks. "I was recommended in your expertise in the field of witches by a colleague of mine. You see, I've been creating my own work on the supernatural world, and was hoping to develop a large section for witches," he explained, opening his book on the counter and flipping through several pages to Bobby. Many pages contained notes about particular supernatural, some even containing sketches of various supernatural and locations. When he turned to the witch section it came up with only a few scattered notes on them. "I was hoping to ask a few questions about them, and possibly conjoin with any hunts going out anytime soon." He paused for a moment, looking around the area before turning back to Bobby. "Might I first ask why the name 'Witches Paradise'? Seems a bit odd for a tavern meant for hunters."