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[Lusiv x]

xxxxx


██████████████████████ G R E G O R ◦◦ L A V E L L E ████
x▬ If you are far from the enemy, make him believe you are near ▬




tab Gregor yanked his blade from the creature. He flicked his wrist and splattered the blood from the sword against the wooden walls. He glanced down at whatever creature it was and scowled. He eyed the "arms" of the creatures and noted no signs of torn fabric or white hair. This creature wasn't the one responsible for Thane's capture. Moments later, a voice called out to them. Whoever that voice belonged to, the rest of them followed suit. He followed shortly and was the last one to arrive. His old eyes spotted a woman with a bow and a single arrow. It was good that she held her own but they're going to need a little more arrows. When she voiced the fact that she managed to get an arrow into Thane's captor, his eyes widened.
tab "Then that's our plan," he announced, "I will not lose another Lavelle."
tab Seconds after that statement, the window burst opened and yanked Telor out of the room and onto the cobblestone streets. He gritted his teeth and fought the creature the best he could. He ducked and dodged all he could until the sound of sliced flesh rang into his ears. He stepped back and urged the others to steer clear from the other windows. The creature appeared to shift its focus elsewhere. Through the cracks of the ruined wooden walls, he spotted Telor on the ground, fighting off the beast. In time, the creature crashed onto the streets and scattered behind the thick fog.
tab Silence greets them once again, but cutting through the silence was Telor's boast.
tab "Do not lower your guard," Gregor warned, as he turned around and made his way back down the stairs and back onto the streets below. With a sword still in his hand, he approached the draskr and studied him. His posture and bloodied shield proved that he fought. While it was not a victory (and they're far from it), this was the step in the right direction. Firmly, he approvingly placed a hand on Telor's shoulder.
tab "Stay humble, Telor, and always be on guard,"" he said, "but from my knowledge, it's difficult to be humble when you're a Champion." He removed his hand from Telor's shoulder and marched forth several feet. He spotted two bloody trails that vanished into the thick fog. He narrowed his eyes and turned his attention to the group above them.
tab "Embrace your weapons, Champions. It is our enemy that should fear the darkness, not us. Your powers alone will have them cowering, hiding. The cavern was out first test, and the Infinite was our answer. Your artifacts are the solution, so let this your statement." He exhaled deeply and eyed each of them individually. As for the stranger that joined them, he studied her facial features from afar. Beyond her disheveled hair and dirty skin, she looked quite familiar. Like a person he'll lose to in an archery contest. Gregor smirked.
tab "We rescue Thane and stop this madness," he announced, "it's not my first time fighting demons. We find the source and shut it up." As he stared off into the thick of the fog, he wondered how Thane's holding up. Is he conscious? Injured? Gregor knew he'd be alive and well. As quiet and unsure as he was, Thane was the stubborn type; he won't go down without a fight. But that's the thing. Gregor doesn't want Thane to go.

tab The trail of blood that led them crossed over several houses and fences. Eventually, it had to climb a nearby hill. As Gregor approached, he noted the large wagons and vast openness. The greenery vanished behind them and all that lies in front was the fog and large boulders and stones. Pickaxe and wagons full of rocks littered all around them. But like the village nearby, it was silent. To Gregor, it was more than enough reason to suspect that something horrible was going to happen. He glanced down at his sword and noted his blade "shivering." It wasn't his hand that shook. He raised it horizontally and removed his hand from the grip. Strangely, his sword hovered in mid-air and shivered rather violently. In haste, the sword's tip pointed towards a particular direction. He stared off into the distance but couldn't make out what was behind the fog.
tab "To think I'd be demon hunting again," he muttered and then turned around to face the group, "Look for a crack in the earth. It'll ooze red light. Do not approach it, or else you'll be suffering for an eternity." he warned as he grabbed his hovering sword and lowered down to his side. On their left was a rather tall mound of rocks, most likely used for masonry. But a shift in weight and Gregor heard an several debris tumbling down. Something above breathed in quick successions when suddenly a large creature fell from the fog above. It was going to land and stab Gregor, but with quick reflex, he raised his sword and pierced it's skull from its jaw. Using its momentum, he threw the creature forward. The creature, with the body of a spider and the head of a woman, scrambled to get up but failed to find any sort of balance. The motor functions were gone. Gregor growled and hopped onto the back of the large spider, instantly bringing the creature down and lunged his blade into its back several times.
tab "Piece of s**t." he cursed and spat at the now deceased creature. As soon as he hopped off, he heard even more debris tumbling down the large boulders that surrounded them. All of these debris echoed around them.
"I hope no one hates spiders." Gregor whispered and raised his blade.

tab s**t.


with Telor, Hissaelil, Aspen, Jarl and Zarola at Autumn's Way Quarry
ooc // Round 2. FIGHT!


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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[Negative Happy Chainsaw]

“How droll”

The night festivities had just begun, and already Fallon found herself unamused with it all. She had taken position upon the third floor of the grand hall, a restricted area meant only for the servants; it housed many antiquities which no doubt could be sold for a good amount. Such things though made little mind to the woman, materialistic value mattered not; such was not what drove her. It was the thrill of the hunt. The birds’ eyes view is why she had chosen such a particular spot, plus it provided a place where she could remain discreet and wait for the signal. Not that discretion was much of an issue as the majority of attendees adorned masks which concealed their faces, a masquerade; it was a shame how easy they were making this.
The task of reaching the third floor was of no consequence, when the building just adjacent offered a balcony, all one had to do was muster the balls to make the jump. She had even managed to ‘acquire’ a rather dashing looking cape and mask for herself. It was unnecessary acquisition, but the thought was compelling at the time.

Shifting out from behind the pillar she had been propped against, Fallon watched below as the masses convened in wine and dance. How convenient their lives must have been to be able to put on such a spectacle, without a care in the world they swarmed one another like rodents, their aim was all the same; sniffing one another out until eventually they are able to procreate.
She had made sure to keep Lucas in her sights at all times, and with such flamboyant attire it was not exactly a challenge. His movements were fluid; he weaved through the crowds with pauses of intermittent conversation. Then a change occurred. He was stifled, his posture stricken with rigidity, but it was subtle so not to alert the masses which surrounded him. It would appear to anyone else as he had merely stopped to catch his breath. When he proceeded to move forward though he was intercepted, but it had been enough. Upon noticing the chance, Fallon had shifted toward the north to follow his line of sight, and the target was evident enough. The draskr male upon the second floor who presented himself as neurotic stood merely watching the horde just as she had been, but in the company of two bodyguards.
With a click of her tongue she adjusted the cape and proceeded back to where she had been. Taking care of the two would not be a problem, but the entire ordeal was set upon making this clean and pretty. Though she would much prefer to have it over and done with, a quick movement across the neck with a blade would do the trick, she was too prideful to allow her instincts to have the better of her. If it was to be done quietly, then patience was a virtue.

On the second floor, the draskr exchanged a few words with his men before shuffling behind them and exiting through a set of embellished double doors. Once away from the bustle, he released heavy sigh before making his way to the balcony which overlooked Belmere. Placing his hands on the banister, the man leaned forward as the tension in his body began to dissipate.

“You should take care; even from this height the fall could kill you.”

Straightening up in an instant, he took a step back from where the voice originated in apprehension. The room having been unused for the party had not bothered to be lit, so the darkness suddenly became all the more unsettling. As he motioned to call out for his bodyguards he felt the cold touch of steel upon his neck and a gloved hand across his mouth. The voice which had called out before was right upon his left ear now, “Let’s not be too hasty to spoil the fun just yet.”

Putting up no resistance, the draskr simply offered what little of a nod he could so not to press the blade any further into his skin. Content, the weapon was retracted. Fallon took a step back before moving a few feet away from the man. She kept her eyes upon him from behind the mask in case he tried anything else, yet the draskr simply returned to staring out over the landscape.
“You’ve been sent to dispose of me haven’t you.” He finally said, not bothering to adjust his gaze.
“And it would seem you were expecting it. Why else would one of your caliber bother to bring hired muscle.” She retorted picking up a glass of wine that had been resting on the railing. Swirling it in her hand, she watched the liquid with intenseness, “I also imagine you are well aware who desires this outcome.”
The man nodded once again, “You do not make enemies as I have and not know which ones are willing to spill your blood.”
Glancing up to him, she could not help but sneer at his melancholic approach to the entire ordeal. A man who was ready for death, it almost took the fun out of it.Almost
“That man is not who you think he is.” The draskr continued, “He will stop at nothing to attain what he wants. And when he has it, he will get rid of you just as easily.”
Fallon smirked at his pathetic appeal, “He will try.”
“And yet you will remain loyal?”
Pausing, her expression quickly shifted to something much darker, “Loyalty is for those naïve enough to believe in someone or something. No, I’m afraid if your desire is to play to my sentiment, I have long abandoned such notions.”
“Ah.” The man replied. Looking over to her, he took in what little of her appearance that was offered, “I know of you, hearsay of course, but that color of crimson really does live up to the name.”
“Then you are aware how this ends.” Extending the glass outward toward him, he looked upon it and shook his head.
“I cannot simply make it so easy.”

With that, the draskr made a last attempt effort for the door; his mouth drawn open to call once more for help. Mid stride, his footing was altered, his body flung against the wall by seemingly nothing but a blur. No hand covered his mouth this time, but what felt like a blunt instrument struck the middle of his throat, and the words which were formed at the tip of tongue were quickly swallowed back down. With one arm Fallon had him pinned, but it was no easy feat as the draskr was quite formidable in terms of strength. Sweeping her leg across his own, the man fell to his knees which gave her the upper hand. The glass still in the opposite hand, she hovered it over his face, but he kept his jaw tightly clenched refusing to give in.
Sighing with a hint of disgust, she became aware there was no other choice. Placing it to her own lips, she tilted the glass back as the wine poured into her own mouth. The man’s eyes widened as she dropped it beside him, her now free hand gripped his chin forcing his jaws open. In an instant her lips were pressed to his as the liquid transferred into his mouth. Placing her hand now over the lower half of his face, she tilted his chin up as the back of his head slammed against the wall. The blow stunned him, which allowed the concoction to slide down his throat.
Kneeling down in front of him, Fallon kept him stationary as it would take a few minutes for the full effect to kick in.
“That man you spoke of, you should thank him in these last moments as this was one of the more merciful ways I have taken a life. The poison which is circulating through your body will slow your heart rate. If used in moderation it can offer the visage of death, but considering your race, I opted for a full dose.”
The draskr tried to speak, but only muffled blurbs escaped. Grinning at his futile struggles, she simply shook her head, “Look at the bright side, at least it is no longer hearsay.”

Not long after, the doors swung open as the two bodyguards entered the scene having not heard from their boss in some time. Looking around the room frantically, the draskr’s figure hunched over on the floor came into view. With his eyes closed, and a single hand clenched to the right of his chest, there were no signs of foul play upon his body, and nothing around that could be indicative of.
The commotion did however cause many of the party patrons to diverge from what they were doing to take a curious glance. The woman who had been trying her best to woo the less than appeased Lucas was no different. As she motioned away from him to take a closer look, Fallon approached him from behind maneuvering to his side. Still adorned with the mask and cape, the other attendees who were still absorbed in the festivities did not seem to notice. Extending her limb, she placed a glass in his hand which received a suspicious look. With a smirk she ushered him to take it, “Just wine, this is a party after all no?” Once in his hand, she stepped away and slipped through the crowds until her silhouette vanished from his vision.

▇ With: Lucas;Draskr target ▇▇▇▇▇
▇ Where: Merchant Guild Banquet ▇▇▇▇▇
▇ ooc: All I got ▇▇▇▇▇

[Insensibility]

It wasn’t the inspired stampede of self-preservation and fear that she’d hoped for, yet amidst the fog, confusion, and darkness it was a miracle that any one of them scrambled their way upstairs. She listened carefully at the cacophony of footfalls from each person and tried her best to size up each individual as their silhouette came into view—between the crashes of thunder and fleeting illuminations offered by generous bolts of lightening, Zarola was able to make out only the most important of information: is it friend or is it foe? There was little room for anything more in-between.

The labored breathing that travelled up the steps made her step back slightly, but as the robed figure crested the second floor landing—the sound of weathered boards creaking beneath harried feet—a small grin of relief tugged at the corners of Zarola’s mouth. A large, almost theatrical gesture from the other person, seemingly clearing hair from their face, and an exasperated sigh made it clear that this creature posed not a threat…in fact, she appeared human. The words that tumbled forth from the woman’s mouth forced a laugh from Zarola’s mouth; not because she found what was being said amusing, but simply because she had not talked to another human being in days. The reality of being next to someone else, who was alive, felt close to a revelation for the young archer woman. But before she could compose herself well-enough to form a response to the inquiry put upon her, a second figure scrambled up their stairs. And this second wave of footsteps, not nearly as dainty as the first, was accompanied by a racket of clanging, cutting, and grunting. It took her only seconds to nock her last remaining arrow and draw the bow back, aiming carefully at the top of the stairs. A flash of something round and concave, attached to a swinging appendage first made itself clear, followed by the crown of a dark head of hair—the face wasn’t unfriendly, but its brownish grey tinge made it difficult for Zarola to make out exactly who or what it was. She inhaled a short breath, deciding not to imbed her final arrow into the torso of this man, and nearly choked on it when he uttered her name. The voice seemed somehow familiar to her; the three syllables of her name had simply rolled off his tongue, a soft lilt accenting the final letters. She knit her brow as she let her bow down, once again stowing away her only arrow in the quiver lazily strapped around her hip. Zarola opened her mouth to reply, but was quickly afforded a quick tutorial in “what not to do.” That was when she knew exactly who it was, “My god,” she began, taking a step towards the Draskr man, “Is that you Tel—a-aaaahhhhhh!” Joining the chorus of screams had been easy as she watched a hoard of limbs burst through the window of the second floor, glass and splinters of wood rained down upon the trio. As she shielded her eyes, Zarola saw the foul arms of the dead wrap themselves around Telor and whisk him out into the unrelenting rain.

Zarola reached out and grabbed the robed woman by the hand, dragging her towards the window, “We can’t go back down that way,” she said quickly, afraid that the two of them could get trapped between floors, “So I hope you can climb,” Zarola waggled her eye brows at the other woman, bringing her face up close so that she could see her expression through the dark.

With half her body through the window, Zarola dropped down to the awning that covered the double front doors of Autumn Way’s Town Hall. The shingles were slick, and she stumbled to catch her balance before looking back up towards the window just a few feet above her. A vine of lightening snaked its way through the sky, bringing to light the whole town within a brief instant—a flurry of strikes between Telor and the monster that snagged him, could be seen out of the corner of her eye. The sounds that emanated from the scuffle alluded to the idea that Telor might have the upper hand, allowing Zarola to reach in through the window and wrap her hands snugly around the hem of the other woman’s robe, “One…two…three” she exclaimed, tugging brusquely upon the white mage’s clothing—soon another body came tumbling out from the building. Zarola laughed as she helped the woman to her feet, the string of her bow slightly digging into her shoulder as she allowed it to hang across her back, “Well, I’m not terribly sorry for that," she admitted, an honest look upon her face, “That was actually kind of fun for me.” There was a respite from the noises of fighting, soon followed by an amiable taunt from the ground—it was Telor; and he’d successfully dispatched his opponent, “Yes, we’re coming, we’re coming…” she whispered beneath her breath, edging herself carefully towards the edge of the awning, near a corner. Once close enough to the edge, Zarola knelt down, and shimmied herself down the support beam jutting out from the awning’s corner—she appeared almost as a squirrel would, nimble but quick. It was obvious to anyone that the woman had spent much time getting herself into and out of high vantage points. Once upon the ground, she craned her neck back, the rain pelted her face and obscured her view but she could see the outline of the woman still standing upon the town hall’s awning, “Come on down, I’ll catch you!” she called out jokingly, stretching out her arms. Somehow the other woman obliged, inching her way down the support beam and after some time her feet too made contact with the ground once more. As soon as the mage woman was safe upon the ground, Zarola turned on heel and set off after Telor and an older gentleman through the fog—an awful trail of blood and stench led the way.
When she finally caught up with them, Zarola had just barely caught the word “Champions” escape the gray-haired man’s lips…”Demons” had also been a topic of conversation, but granted eaves-dropping was difficult to do between the running and the rain and the sound of steel through flesh. Another creature was put down, this time by the aging man alongside Telor, a few-well placed jabs of his sword in the monster’s spiny back made fast work of it.

Damn, she thought to herself, I need to be on that guy’s side.

She nodded to herself amongst her inner-dialogue and carefully removed her bow from its hanging position upon her back. A couple of moments she waited, for the two men to make some distance between themselves and Zarola, so that she might nock her arrow and watch their backs as they progressed deeper into the boulders, debris, and unyielding fog.

[TheoryOverdose]

You are my sun in the darkness of the night
And be my eyes when I lose my sight
▶▶▾I like your ωнιѕρєяιηg in the dark»

We have one life to live,
I'll give you all I've got to give ●
Like a ☾ moonlight ☽ , you're showing me the way,
Like heroine
You course in my veins,

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

It happened as the sky released its dazzling light upon the broken world. That blinding light had no effect on her defected eyes....but the sound that followed caused her to pause. It was in that pause that the creature had taken its opportunity. Hissaelil could feel something slam against her left shoulder, pain blossomed forth cracking that calm resolved within her mind. Had she bitten off more then she could handle by sending the others away? Blood began to spill forth from the wound, the creature must have pierced one of its many appendages into her finally. Yet it stalled, unsure if it should take the death blow.

Hiss could hear the others above, the old man had joined the others, everyone was at least safe for the moment. It was the sounds from above that drew the creature from her, whatever it had used to pin her to the wall was now removed and the mage crumbled to the ground her body deadly still. Maybe it believed it had killed her, or more plausible that she was too damaged to fight. It left its prey to bleed out and moved out of the room.

She wanted to scream, to warn them of what would happen. But Telors voice rang out above as the sound of glass shattering brought the group above to silence. The mage forced her injured limb to cooperate, she was an elf and such a simple wound would never take her down. Already the pain had began to subside as her bodies natural abilities began to take over, it would take some time for her to fully heal. But she would be able to fight with that shoulder within minutes, and that was all she needed.

The elf walked out the now broken doors of the downstairs area to rejoin the voices of others. Twice she tripped on the debris of broken wood forcing herself to walk slowly guided by the buildings faulting structure. The old man spoke to them to take up their weapons. A necklace was not a weapon, it was a decoration at most. But she didn't mutter the sarcastic comment that linger on her tongue, now was not the time to fight with the man over his poorly chosen words. Somehow the threat seemed less, tension in the air began to evaporate, though the ominous task of reclaiming thane still held overhead.

They began to follow the old man, by the scent in the air it was possible they where following blood. Then again it could have been her own blood she smelt. Her other senses where helpful, but they where no replacement for her 'vision'. Once more Hissaelil opened her mind allowing the magic of the world to become visible again. Colors spilled into existence, the wavering thum of energy was all around them. But it was not like the gentle hum of her homeland. This magic had been forced into the land, tainting it. The earth was pretty lenient with what you did, over time you could make an area resonate with your own magic, like a vault to tap into. Now the land fought back and within the air the magic clashed, blurring the energy of those she followed. If the elf had to describe it to someone, it was like being drunk.

While her body did not sway Hissaelil was forced to follow closely, her mind focused Jarl the closest of the companions to her. The draskr where creatures born from ancient magic, magic his physical prowess had ignored. While aspens soft light would have been easier to watch the mage had taken up point further in the group. Gregor spoke of hunting demons again, how it had been so long. He offered warning of glowing red lights, but the information was useless to her. Instead she figured if something didn't feel right, she would just stay away.

They walked for what seemed to be far to long. They where the hunted they shouldn't be able to walk off freely. As if the beast could hear her thoughts something moved in the vicinity around them. It would have landed on the older man, had he not been quick to attack. Those reflexes where a product of training, it made the elf wounder exactly the man had done in his life before Thane. No normal man is so quick, hunted demons and has such intimate knowledge of the world. While she had never regarded him as a simple old man, it would be fascinating to pick apart his mind.

He mentioned spiders and a faint smile graced her lip. It was nice to know for once what she was fighting within this town. Granted it was not her favorite creature among the world, something about those extra eyes seemed to mess with her. Thankfully she would not have to watch the creatures many eyes as they engaged in combat.

"They are getting bolder, we must be getting closer to the nest."

Hissaelil threw out her energy once more, trying to focus on the blue light that was thane in her mind. With so much magic around it was hard to sense him, it must be why she had not sensed the woman above earlier. But call it a gut feeling that he was close by. This knowledge was a double bladed sword. Hissaelil had never fought a demon before, but the hell spawn would not hold back as others may. They where in for a true fight, one that their lacking skills would find difficult.

LOCATION: Autumn's Way
ALLIES: The blade[Thane Lavelle], Old Gregor, The Bard[Telor], The Aggressive One[Jarl], Pretty Lights Mage [Aspen] The New one [Zarola]
THE WHISPERS INSIDE MY HEAD:: Rainy Mood and ωнιѕρєяѕ ву υηѕυη
OOC:I will be happy to add to this. Since no one was on I didn't want to go in a direction without approval. ^-^

[Dork Paladin]

❝ ι αм αи ＡＮＩＭＡＬ! | ι αм αи ＡＮＩＭＡＬ! ❞

‘Sorry, Jarl, but your party member is in another foreboding corner...’


xxxxxFurther exploration of the attic-spaces only confirmed what had been nagging at the edges of Jarl’s mind. Thane was somewhere else in the town. Not here, no, but he definitely hadn’t left.


xxxxxThe Draskr spent a while to ponder if this made him happy or not.

xxxxxIt did not. Relieved, yes, but not happy. Thane was useless right now--if it was to be assumed that he would stop, that is--and needed someone to make sure he didn’t die. Or something.

xxxxxProbably.

xxxxxThane dying would only affect Jarl negatively if that too-long sword fell through him somehow. The others (especially the young lady) would likely b***h to no end if the child perished.

xxxxxThere was no choice, was there?

xxxxxJarl took it upon himself to kick through the mouldering walls of the building and follow the noises of conflict via the rooftops like any normal hero.

xxxxxNormal heroes do this kind of thing.

xxxxxIt’s true, look it up.

xxxxxBut there were always things that came to test normal heroes when they least expected it, and it appeared to Jarl that they would not overlook his unwillingness this time.

xxxxxBut what else was new?

xxxxxWhat looked like a woman leapt from the ground below to the roof across the way, though closer inspection and the rather terrifying angles at which her limbs bent gave away that she was not of this world. The sudden appearance of her disgusting body right in front of his probably would have given him a heart attack if he weren’t so busy pissing himself. It was generally a pretty crappy way to continue his day.

xxxxxOn reflex, his arm shot out to sink his knife into that ever-grinning visage. In his panic he had forgotten that his new boomerang was in that hand, leaving him with a very irate pregnant-lady demon. To show her annoyance, she bit him in the leg. Not too damaging because of his leather pants, but still very, very annoying.

xxxxxBut this was not an annoy-off.

xxxxxJarl allowed his tight hold on his temper to be released, the dragon’s fury which he had so long kept on a tight leash bursting forth in three very quick movements.

xxxxxFirst: He headbutted the spider-demon, leaving it flailing in a daze.

xxxxxSecond: He placed his hands on the sides on its head, claws digging into its face and eyes. His body followed his arms down, settling him in a comfortable (if tense) crouch.

xxxxxThird: He twisted and jumped, listening to the sharp crack of the vertebrae separating and the subsequent wet rip of its head separating from its body.

xxxxxThe body was disposed of in the regular way (kicking it off the house), and the head was kept clutched in one massive palm. Perhaps it would come in handy, say, if he had to convince the others that he had not been fighting. Perhaps the blood on his hands would be enough… No, the smell of rotting demon would be necessary to convince the sightless elf that he was busy doing things. She smelled distinctly of skeptical b***h, and would need to be handled carefully.

xxxxxTime was wasting, he would need to hurry toward Gregor’s scent if he wanted to be helpful.

xxxxxOkay, he would hurry because more spider-women were appearing on the horizon and the body which the head was once attached to was twitching dangerously. His boomerang sought its hindside and knocked it into the street, allowing him to escape.

► - + - ◄

xxxxx"Demons… Why did it have to be demons…"

xxxxxJarl’s lanky frame (now accompanied by fur-tufts on the tips of his ears and luminescent yellow eyes) moved from roof to roof on all fours, drawing nearer and nearer to the old man and what he presumed would be the rest of the party, minus Thane.

xxxxxHe wasn’t sure if he liked it when he was right.

xxxxxThere they all were, plus the cycloptic girl they picked up in the town hall. Gregor, Hissaelil, Telor, Aspen, Zarola, Gregor’s floating sword…

xxxxxHold up.

xxxxxJarl blinked several times, stared at the sword for another minute, and gracefully fell off of the building he had been perched on. Thanks to the aspect of the lynx, he landed on his feet.

xxxxxIt was odd, though. Jarl was never one to get randomly dizzy, which meant that the spider woman that bit him… Was literally a spider woman. Another jumped from some dark hell and was dispatched by Gregor in a far more graceful manner than he had managed.

xxxxxIt could be said that it was then that Jarl finally figured out his next interest: Demon hunting.

xxxxxIt was not a stretch, given his servitude to Valeyr, that he would want to hunt more dangerous prey. If he played his cards right, Gregor might agree to teach him how to kill even the most heinous of creatures. Or both of them would die here in this town, because that sounded a bit more likely.

xxxxxIt was worth a try though. Jarl stumbled over to Gregor and the Gang, demon head in one bloody claw-tipped hand, boomerang in the other. He would likely cut a fearsome sight if he weren’t currently wacked out on demon poison.

xxxxxFive more steps brought him closer to Gregor, and in a hushed growl Jarl managed to ask a question before his body gave into the venom's paralysis.

xxxxx"Teach me... To hunt demons."

We came in search of answers!

You are s**t at hiding. ► Gregor, Hissaelil, Aspen, Telor, Zarola ◄

We left empty handed again!

Do you hear my footfalls? ► Not the Infinite ◄

Shots fired into the sky...

Jumbled thoughts. ► Please Valeyr let this be over. ◄

Are now returning!

Useless feelings. ► Bored, angry. → Almost excited. ◄

Where the ******** will you hide?

Voices in my head. ► Shortish. ◄

"→→→I am death."

[Lusiv x]

xxxxx


██████████████████████ G R E G O R ◦◦ L A V E L L E ████
x▬ If you are far from the enemy, make him believe you are near ▬




tab Gregor flicked his sword towards the ground to cast off the excess blood, eyes peered into the thick fog in front of them. He knew there was more out there. Like Hissaelil mentioned, they have gotten bolder, which only meant that they were closer to the source. A "nest" implied that these spawns were bred and born upon the surface. Naturally, any ordinary person would assume so, but unnatural creatures such as these things wouldn't be able to breed here. As he connected the dots of these creatures and Autumn's Way, he tightened his grip and sighed deeply.
tab "There's a fractured gateway to the Eternal here," he announced, "Restless spirits that embody negative energy turn into demons. But they can't survive in our world without hosts -- dead or alive. This is not a case of possession. No. This is an invasion." He growled lowly to himself for a moment. As one man, he was able to fend off any stragglers but in the group of Champions, he'd be able to fend off some more as well as seal the fracture shut. However, the group wasn't exactly living up to the grand tale.
tab He turned stumbling and fumbling. He glanced behind the group and witnessed Jarl joining them at last. His hands were bathed in demon's blood, no doubt from the severed head he carried. His eyes scrunched slightly to get a glimpse of the demon's head; Jarl held it like a trophy. He paced himself and approached Gregor.
tab "Teach me... To hunt demons." Jarl requested.
Gregor's eyes narrowed before he turned to survey their surrounding. Naturally, such a request would be granted with an elaborate ritual -- including a feast with a roast boar and ale. But they don't have the time. Gregor's eyes noted how stiff his arms and legs were as well. The wound on his pants leg was the obvious sign of a bite from one of these arachnids. He quickly leaped to his side to aid his walk.
tab "A Demonhunter isn't something you easily agree to, Jarl." He warned. But the paralysis is settling in. Who knows if it was poisonous or not.
tab Gregor didn't want to take that chance.
tab He laid Jarl down flat against ground. Hastily, he dragged his sword and traced a circle around Jarl's body. Considering that they don't have the time, he rushed the circle. Once it was done, he raised the blade up in the air, the tip pointed over Jarl's heart.
tab "To become a demonhunter, one must face the worst demon ever imaginable," he began before he slammed his sword downward. But the tip of the blade hovered above the fabric of Jarl's clothing, right above his heart. "yourself." Black smoke began to emit from his blade. It traveled downward towards the tip and onto Jarl's chest. The black smoke rolled along his body like ocean waves. Eventually, the smoke entered Jarl's mouth and eyes. The white in his eyes blackened with smoke.
tab "He'll be confused when he wakes up. This wasn't exactly the ideal situation to perform the ritual but it'll be better than carrying a paralyzed draskr." Gregor stepped away from Jarl and allowed the ritual to run its course. His eyes fixed on the fog ahead of them. It was certain that they were close to the fracture, but now that the creatures know who they're fighting against, they hesitated. This was their moment.
tab "They're scared," he quietly mentioned, "take advantage of this moment. I don't think demons are going to get any more frightened than this. "

tab Just as he prepared to move forward to strike, he heard a faint echo off in the distance. Gregor stopped in his tracks and listened closely. The countless of demons, some just like the one he and Jarl butchered, turned around to hear the faint echo. It was a man's voice. He screamed, whimpered and cried. Beyond that, other demons roared off in the distance, as if they tried to scare someone off. But those roars were cut short. The sounds drew closer and eventually, Gregor heard a familiar voice.
tab "Die, die, DIE!" The voice shouted in sheer anger and desperation. The sound of heavy breathing and feet patting the ground echoed even louder. Gregor ran forward a bit and hooked around a massive pile of broken rock to see his grandson, bloodied and battered, continuously stabbing a demon in the face with his rusty hunting knife.
tab "Why did you kill them?! Why?!" He demanded from the already dead demon. He scrambled to his feet and spotted another demon that was on the prowl. His breathing was heavy, his body remained limp -- whether from fatigue or injury.
tab "Thane!" Gregor called out, but Thane's eyes locked onto the demons that stared at him.
tab "They killed them, Gregor," he replied without breaking eye contact with them, "Autumn's Way, Oakrock -- it was them." Thane's hand reached out for Gregor, but it was as if he expected an item to be returned to him.
tab "My sword, Gregor." He demanded, "I will kill every one of them."
tab Gregor paused. Something wasn't right about Thane. Whether he was poisoned or inflicted severe injuries to the point of a mental breakdown, he wasn't sure. But there Thane stood. Tired, yes, but he was eager to fight. More than eager, in fact. It was baffling, to be honest. The shy and introverted Thane who screamed and stabbed a demon to death is requesting his weapon, the sword of a Champion. Whatever fire stirred inside Thane, he could ask about it later.
He extended his own hand out. White wisps formed in his hand and traveled to Thane's. The lights that resembled that of fireflies extended upwards. In a blink of bright light, Thane's sword materialized. The weight and size of it, however, didn't affect Thane's grip.
tab "It's so much lighter now," Thane whispered as he glanced at it.
tab "Have you seen the fracture?" Gregor asked, "A glowing crack in the earth. Red."
tab "It's in the mining shaft nearby, I think." Thane answered as he approached the demon. The arachnid that had the head of a woman scowled and stepped back a bit. "Make them suffer, Gregor." With that, Thane charged towards the demon and swung his sword. His posture and method of attacking was unorthodox; no formal training at all. But Gregor saw the sheer power behind each swing.

tab And with that, Gregor turned around and eyed the group. "I'm going to need a few of you guys with me."


with Thane, Jarl, Telor, Hissaelil, Aspen and Zarola at Autumn's Way Quarry
ooc // Round 2. FIGHT!


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[elsterguts]

We are the reckless
We are the wild youth
Chasing visions of our futures

Bright light flooded the area, showing just how dense the fog on the street below was. Aspen stood at the edge of the town hall's newest entryway, taking the split second to observe what little there was to see from her vantage point. She wasn't on the edge for long before she was yanked down by the archer. Crashing onto the cobbled street below, Aspen's boots hit hard, locking her legs momentarily before giving out, her knees smacking onto the ground. A small wince escaped Aspen, a bitter grimace gracing her face as Zarola helped her up. Perhaps it was the thick fog or her legs that made her tremble, but the mage could hear yelling through the fog.... along with other unholy noises. Quickly, she followed the archer through the fog, trying to keep a steady gate.

Aspen's hair was on end, and her eyes wide, as if she could possibly see anything past what was already in view. Somehow, it had worked; through the fog, she met the sight of Hissaelil, trying herself to feel through the sticky fog. The mage sighed in relief, looking Hissaelil over for obvious injury and being rewarded with the sight of a bleeding gash across the elf's shoulder. Cursing softly, Aspen pulled away from the archer, instead catching up with Hissaelil, with the archer woman in tow. "Hissaelil, you're...bleeding pretty badly. Let me clean you up as we go. Lady Archer, can you keep lookout for a quick moment?" Quickly, glancing between movements for enemies, Aspen pulled a small vial out of the pouch on her hip, uncorking it and placing the stopper between her teeth. "'is 'ay 'ing a'it..." She managed to mutter around the cork before dripping the solution over Hissa's wound.


Grimacing, she recorked the bottle, looking over her shoulder before pressing her palms to the wound and focusing, a pale green glow emitting from the contact. Once Hissaelil's shoulder had been healed, Aspen wiped her hands and then glanced around, gently tugging Hissa along while she followed the disheveled archer. From what she could see, the fog indeed thinned... yet, the darkness and foreboding remained, tinging their surroundings with unease. Aspen could swear she saw skittering creatures on the edge of the fog and she held herself ready. If she couldn't see the creatures, then there would be no reason for her to be scared, right? However, the ruckus of something screeching ahead of them made her jump, her hands in front of her ready for blocking anything heading for them.


Moments later, upon finding Gregor and the... newly comatose Jarl, Aspen had more than her share of work cut out for her. Though Gregor's words slightly calmed her about Jarl, she had caught sight of the now curled up, dead spider demons and her body stiffened, eyes wide. "S-spider demons..." the mage whispered, goose flesh running up her back. Hesitating before following the elder, Aspen was now utterly on edge. "Have we found Thane yet? Do you think he'll..." Trailing off, Aspen steadied herself, hearing faint cries... faint human yelling down the way. Immediately, she took off, releasing Hissaelil and leaving her with Zarola and Jarl. She would be fine, the elf had made it past some vine crazy plant nightmare already.

Having focused her attention on searching out Thane, her reaction time was cut as a lady headed spider launched itself at her. A gasp left her lips and her instinct kicked in, a pale barrier exploding around her fist as she went to deflect the demon. However, mere repelling wasn't the result; instead, a spray of blood exploded from the woman's face as the barrier connected to it. The demon didn't go flying, but as it hit the ground and rolled, it had already curled it's legs in on itself. Adrenaline and idiot courage raged through Aspen's veins as she wiped the demon slime off of her cheek, the strange, small shield already dissapating into small, smokey wisps. A deep breath and she was back on Gregor's heels.

When she caught sight of the farm boy, worry sprung into her chest. Her looked beaten, battered... exhausted. But she hung back, preparing to heal or block anything intent on causing any of her group harm while Gregor presented his grandson with his sword. Thane, sword in hand, offered them directions before charging yet another spidery fiend. At Gregor's beckoning, Aspen stepped forward, still weary of her surroundings. "Show the way... although possibly quickly would be a better choice!" Aspen's tone raised alarm as she planted her feet, looking to the edges of the fog for the source of the rising infernal screeching. What hell, what complete and utter hell.

[Location: Autumn's Way - Quarry]
[Company:Thane, Gregor, Telor, Jarl, Zarola, and Hissaelil.]
[Mood:Hyperaware, determined]

One day we'll reveal the truth
That one will die before he gets there.

[Insensibility]

“Of course, miss. Take your time.” After being dragged through shattered glass and forced to tumble out onto the cobblestone street from the second story of a building, it was the least Zarola could do to watch the robed woman’s back as she tended to her colleague’s injuries. None of them, not a single one, had asked to be thrown into the middle of such a dire situation—and while she hadn’t a damned clue as to who these people were, outside of Telor, or why they’d made the decision to pass through Autumn’s Way, they shared a common cause: not to perish at the hands of demons. It was a common goal that Zarola could appreciate, despite her usual unease of having to work with others. It was difficult to not be in a position authority; for over a decade she was declared a master of her craft, held above countless others because of her knowledge and prowess. Zarola was comfortable in teaching students and apprentices—not being at the mercy of individuals she knew nothing about. Yet as she watched the young peasant woman, out of the corner of her eye, conjure a pale green light from the palms of her otherwise ordinary looking hands, she had to admit to herself: sometimes there was safety in numbers.

Every so often, as the three women ventured into the fog, Zarola peered back and over her shoulder to keep track of the conjurer woman and her leggy Elven friend. She thought it strange that woman clad in rags had to be dragged along, but when Zarola took a moment to observe the elf’s body language and facial movements, it became apparent that she was visually impaired. Her lips tightened into a dash across her face as she thought about retracting her prior admission and once the trio came across a tall, heavily scarred and slightly scaly man laid prostrate upon his back, she was convinced more than ever that perhaps their meeting wasn’t going to pan out, after-all. A narrow stream of breath escaped her lips; what precisely was she getting herself into? At second glance, Zarola noticed that the unconscious man had within his possession a mess of arrows—a mess of arrows that were of a sufficient length to suit her needs. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she knelt down and collected a half dozen and slid them carefully into her hip-mounted quiver.

I’ll be sure to put these to good use—flying demon death at my fingertips.

A stomach-curdling squelch resonated through the fog and startled Zarola to her feet. As she looked towards the source of the disturbance, she saw that the young mage woman had deflected an attack from one of the spider demons with an aura that emanated from her body. Her eye grew wide as she hmm’d to herself as she witnessed the sorcery display—it appeared as though some of these folks beared skills and abilities indiscernible at first glance. That awareness helped to quell some of the archer’s initial uncertainty. And while Zarola could indefinitely stand around and play back and forth in her mind as to whether or not it was in her best interest to aid this rag-tag group, she realized that indecision would probably kill them all. Every single one. She also was certainly not in a position to babysit, especially after “procuring” a fistful of arrows from someone she failed to ask permission of, so when the gray-haired man asked for assistance, Zarola stepped up alongside the mage woman and declared, “I’ll also come with you. I might not have the brute strength of the Draskr or the wisdom of an enchanter, but I’m the best damn shot around.” A broad grin overtook her face as her chin slightly inclined, she exuded a cool air of confidence in spite of the fog, blood, thunder, “Those bastards had me cooped up in this godforsaken village for days. I’m dying to exact some revenge.”

[Lusiv x]

xxxxx


██████████████████████ T H A N E ◦◦ L A V E L L E ████
xxxxxx▬ Growth is the only evidence of life ▬




tab Thane was not a warrior. In fact, he held no proper training or discipline. The way he swung was that of a madman hellbent on survival. Surges of adrenaline pulsated throughout his body, his heartbeat raced and his eyes barely blinked at the sight of each demon. The blade that was twice the same of his height (and quite possibly his weight) was like a feather. It retained enough weight to fuel the sheer force with each swing but Thane was not dragging it by his feet anymore. His back flexed with every swing, as tension struck and formed knots all over his muscle fiber. It ached, but he rather have a knotted back than be a mangled corpse for these arachnid bitches to crawl all over.
tab But they just kept on coming. He saw through the fog dozens of those multi-legged monsters. His sword that punctured through the abdomen spewed blood. He firmly yanked the sword out and gritted his teeth as he stared at them. This feeling was foreign to him. The anger, frustration, fear and doubt, all that was once bottled up unleashed uncontrollably. It made his arms twitch slightly and his feet moving closer to these demons. Thane never knew who was behind him. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure if any of them would aid him in battle. To him, it felt like a last ditch effort. He was lucky to have escaped from the clutches of these beings. Unfortunately, he escaped to meet the population of Autumn's Way in pits of body limbs. The smell was atrocious; just thinking about it almost made Thane vomit. His footsteps began to stumble. His vision began to blur. A wave of exhaustion struck Thane.
tab He saw them approaching. Attempting not to falter, he stepped backwards and allowed each arachnid to attack him individually. He swung hard and fast. Perhaps he was fortunate enough to be dealing with demons and not armed guards. These demons had strength and the speed. As much as he tried, Thane received several more injuries. Each leg felt like a massive sword, so with each hit, it either pierced or sliced Thane's flesh. The pain rendered his adrenaline almost useless now, as his body is too much in shock to try and fight back. He screamed and rolled away as far as he could and swung some more. Each one of those arachnid sustained an injury of some degree; either one bled out or one just lost a leg. If anything, they were determined.
tab One arachnid claimed the higher ground on a mound of broken rock. It screeched uncomfortably loud before it hurled a projectile from its own mouth. It was some sort of black substance. It landed right behind Thane, in which it spiraled into some sort of smokey funnel and vanished beneath the earth. A red hue quickly formed and suddenly a small yet powerful combustion exploded in the ground. The impact hurdled Thane forward. Eventually, he turned around to see what it was and he quickly caught glimpse of the arachnid up high. By then it was too late. Another projectile attack flew right at Thane and landed in his left eye. Thane shut them tightly and stumbled backwards violently, sword swinging at whatever approached him. A smokey spiral formed right above it and vanished into the white of his eyes. His iris glowed red. Blood stained his face. With his free hand, he covered his left eye and wondered his eye will explode as well. Or his head. He had mere seconds. The demon arachnids all screeched and roared at everyone. In a state of panic, Thane cried for help. With only one eye and limited time, his search for any sort of aid remained futile.
tab In a blink of an eye, a flash of white light formed around his eye illuminated the fog and the surrounding for a moment. But it wasn't the same type of combustion from earlier. As the light died down, Thane noticed something in his left hand. With his left eye closed, he lowered his hand and saw a... silver gauntlet? It faded in and out, almost as if it never existed. The smoke emitted from his hand and fingertips. Just like that, whatever it was, it faded away. He was breathing. His head is intact. The only wounds he sustained were the ones from earlier. As always, any drop in adrenaline allowed him to feel each pain he received.
tab He slowly stood up and opened his left eye once more. Blackened with a red iris.
:******** you, ******** you, ******** you," he muttered angrily.


with Hissaelil, Telor, Jarl at Autumn's Way Quarry
ooc // ~


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[Lusiv x]

xxxxx


██████████████████████ G R E G O R ◦◦ L A V E L L E ████
x▬ If you are far from the enemy, make him believe you are near ▬




tab "Be careful, Thane." Gregor urged, as his eyes softened a bit. Despite being one of the chosen Seven Champions, who defeated Kassic the Mad and his Legion, Thane was still his grandson -- no, his son. He raised the boy since he was just a baby. He helped Thane learn how to talk, how to walk and even showed him the ropes to one of his favorite hobbies. In a flash, he saw Thane seated on a dock patiently waiting for a fish to bite his line. He would try to shush Gregor whenever he would walk on the dock. The boy said that his walk was "too loud" and that it would scare the fishes away. But in an instant, Gregor saw Thane as the bloodied Champion, with a sword twice his size fighting arachnid demons from who-knows-where. Is this a proud moment for him or a worrisome thing?
tab Aspen and the archer with the eyepatch joined him. He took one last glance at Thane before he turned around, sword gripped tightly in hand. He ushered the others to follow him and to keep anything from reaching them. If they do, he will take care of it. The closer they moved towards the mining tunnels, the more he could feel the fracture. It was a heavy feeling; it made him weaker, physically. As if he was being forced to the ground by an unknown force. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he felt his legs beginning to vibrate under the force strain. To the people that followed, they would see vague outlines in this red mist surrounding him. At first glance, it appeared to be power radiating off his body. But truthfully, those were spirits from the other side fighting back against Gregor's approach.
tab "M-Make sure those things don't get close." He ordered. One of those arachnid fell from one of the cliff above and approached the group. With a loud roar, he managed to side-step the demon and sliced off several of its legs, rendering it immobile. He placed his heavy boot on its neck and with a powerful thrust, cracked the demon's neck.
tab "Put an arrow in its head, just to be sure." He urged the archer and turned around. He approached the entrance of the mining tunnel and growled to himself; to think that he'd be underground again in a span of a week. He walked along side the tracks, to which suddenly the scent of decomposing bodies reached their nostrils. Gregor cupped his mouth and nose and narrowed his eyes. As he walked down the rocky path, eventually the ground they trek upon appeared to be soaked. Not from rain water or anything. As he glanced down, he noticed the red hue.
tab "Blood." He muttered, disgusted.
tab They didn't have to venture deep into the tunnels. In fact, the fracture was not too far off. Naturally, a dark mining tunnel would be lit by torches, but all of them were unlit -- perhaps for a while, too. However, everything underground held a deep red hue. Gregor's eyes had trouble focusing on the tunnel walls and such, considering it was difficult to navigate through dim red lights. As he navigated, he glanced back to make sure neither of the ladies are snatched away. As he approached the fracture, he stopped in his tracks and spotted a massive sinkhole in front of them. Bodies limbs filled it nearly half full. He assumed that these were the villagers, but it was incredibly difficult to tell; they were just severed heads, arms and legs. They could be from neighboring villages.
tab Then it clicked. Thane did mention Oakrock. Could this... be..?
tab Gregor tired to shake the thought off but failed to do so. He wanted answers. But right now, the fracture was the first step to getting anywhere near an answer. Beyond the sinkhole of bodies lied the tear in the ground. As if the earth shook and cracked open. But light spewed out. His sword vibrated strongly in consideration on how close they were.
tab "Stay here." He told them. The only way to get to the other side of the sinkhole was to walk on the bodies. He gritted his teeth and did so. This was hell. It has to be. What foul demon would make a live human cross a pit of the deceased? The scent was strong, to the point where Gregor's old stomach rumbled. The gag reflex began to act up, but he quickly crossed it in desperation to end this. As he approached the fracture, the weight of the spirits was far significant here. He dropped to a knee and gritted his teeth. Forcefully, he extended one hand out. Black smoke swirled around the fracture in the ground. As if time reversed, the crack closed up bit by bit. The veins in Gregor's hand and forehead revealed how taxing this was. At that last moment, he exerted more energy and the fracture was sealed. The red hue vanished instantaneously. Gregor's fell to his butt and leaned against the cavern walls.
tab "Let's go before I actually throw up." He announced to Aspen and the archer. Tired but willing to get out of this horrendous cave, he forced himself to walk over the pile of limbs once more. And by the time they reach the mining tunnel entrance, the fog slowly dissipated.
tab But the stench was still there.


with Aspen and Zarola at Autumn's Way Mining Tunnels
ooc // ~


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[TheoryOverdose]

post lost to time

[TheoryOverdose]

They surround me these familiar faces
Burned out places
Burned out faces
Will you be there as they rip my heart out
Spill my guts out
Tear my soul

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The world holds many dangers for those that inhabit it. Man had became arrogant in their existence believing they could master all around them. Her people( the elves) had tried a more simple approach of harmony. There where no mystical trees that symbolized their life spans, nor rebirth from the dust of fallen stars. Her people merely live for a long time, in their age a wisdom had been found. The understanding that eventually the world will win. Instead of fighting against it, they accepted it as it was truth and tried to work with the land to create harmony between all. Anything else about her people was merely garbage spun by madmen. They could have claimed it to be her arrogance that lead her away from the group in such a dangerous area. Or maybe it was the arrogance of others that lead her on this pointless task, one in which they had gained nothing but agony.

The place was unnatural, the land tainted by the deviant obsession of a creature bent on the destruction of others. A place like this would slowly rip ones soul apparent till nothing but their madness existed. Hissaelil was not going to be one of the lost ones, those too ignorant to leave matters they could not control alone. These where the thoughts of the lonely elf as she began to recount their steps back to the ‘entrance’ of the abandoned town of Autumns Way.

A sound caused her to pause, her head turning to each side as she listened to the world around her. She heard the soft sound of rain as the sky continued to empty upon her head. The mud clung to her feet making each step a challenge, her feet seeking inch by inch into the ground as if it wished to swallow her whole. Even with the chaos they had endured the world seemed at peace, the sound a side effect of a raging storm and and rotting wood.

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Come on doctor, come teach me a lesson
I will listen, I will listen
Will you be with me and hold me, as I die
And they find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
These dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had

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At some point she would have expected the others to fallow. The sweet mage to begin her assault once more on her knowledge of magic, knowledge that many wish to keep contained within her. As if years of practice had resulted in only the small sliver of magic she had shown. Jarl may have offered a grunt, had he been awake to see her embarrassing attempt at awaking him. He may have even cracked a joke on her ‘attempt’ at being the ‘big bad elf.’ Thane would be distracted by his grandfather, obsessed with his own internal monologue and how the world was doing him wrong, the thoughts of a child. The older man had patience, yet he seemed to feed into the child’s delusions. Telor would have been the one to try and liven the group with a story or song, maybe even attempt to make the others open up. Though the draskr lacked the proper amount of ale to loosen her lips. The newest addition, a woman who seemed swift and agile was a mystery, yet if Hissaelil had to guess she would probably share stories with telor. After all the two seemed to express some form of familiarity that the others had not.

While maybe it was a foolish thought for one like her she felt as if something….or rather someone was missing. They lacked a person who was a blunt with her words, who would distract their minds from the impending doom. Or maybe they where missing the residential geek who could spend hours musing to herself aloud about ideas. It was a shame that in all her years alive, Hissaelil had began to miss the interactions with others. For a moment the time spent on the roads, walking from area to area, seemed to hold the most fun. Yet the others, they where too quick to find a fight, maybe this is why their races died so young.

A flash of warmth ran against her neck. Thin lanky fingers ran across the glowing orb and its metal that clung to her neck. Somehow she knew…….within her that those days would never come. There was the faint feeling of doom that raised in the pit of her stomach. She continued her walk, blaming it upon the spirits of this place.

The elf did not stop till she stood at the edge of the town alone. By now her mind had turned to why the others had not followed. Was she missing something basic that the others had seen? Once more she extended her ‘vision’ beyond what was right in front of her, feeling for the others. What she felt…..was not them. All that left her was a gasp before the pain erupted from her stomach. An object the size of a branch pierced through her abdomen followed by a burning pain against her neck. She felt the teeth as they sunk into her pale flesh, ripping at the muscles that gave her neck support. There was no doubt in her mind that the suddent rush of warmth was from the poision of the best that toke her. It was shock that gripped her as her magic flared to life. Her reserves dumped all at once in a blind dash for survival. Within her the most desperate of her magic flared to life in an instant. A blinding light would have erupted from within that which attacked her, followed by the internal eruption of the beast. Within second the monster had released her neck, it teeth no longer connected to the strong jaw. The leg that pierced her through like a pin falling out of her gut and to the floor.

Hissaelil could feel the weariness that came as the adrenaline coerced through her veins. Ever bit of energy she possessed exploding forward all at once. Had she eyes that worked she would have seen other creatures approaching her, ready to rip her pale body apart. Had those she relied on to lead her….to help the blind elf been truly worth leaning upon, maybe they would have rushed to her side. Yet in this world she was alone, her magic wasted and her body fighting the infection and loss of blood.

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I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
With people screaming 'Murder'
It's a very, very .
Bad World

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For the other creatures she was an easy target and they seemed to know. Without hesitation they sprung from their spots within the shadows. Matted fuzz, teeth and claws all dug into her flesh. She tried to call out for help, in hopes that maybe someone would come. Yet her voice came out as only a wheeze, blood coating the insides of her lungs forcing each breath as a wet abomination.

Within seconds Hissaelil was upon the ground, her body being ripped apart. Had the things had mercy they may ensured she had truly died first. Yet to them it didn’t matter, she was food now. It was her left arm that detached first, pain blossomed forth in thick waves, leaving her mind in a fog. Death was supposed to be peaceful, the warmth of another being filling your soul as you saw the bright light of eternity. There was supposed to be a moment of peace within ones self, the realization that their life had been lived to the best of their potential. Yet for the elf it seemed like an life time of torture. Each nerve painfully aware of what the others where experiencing.

Death was not quick, yet in the moments her final breath escaped there was some peace for the twisted elf. The creature whose only life goal of saving the world had been dashed from the start. The rain began to wash away the evidence of the person. Anything that was attacked to flesh was hauled away by the beast that understood that somewhere within their home, other predators lurked ready to strike. The rain began to wash away the red stain of her blood. The only item which seemed to survive the encounter was the necklace that had woven itself around her neck. The metal that seemed to flow like water retreated slowly back inside the glowing orb. As if the artifact was reverting back to its original form. Yet when it seemed complete a sound rang out.

It could only be described as a thousand glasses breaking at once. The orb which had no true form cracked down the center. The brilliant light which had been associated with the holy powers of this world faded from existence leaving behind only a small blank rock. As if even Aldanian’s Divine Light could no longer exist in such a wretched world.

LOCATION: Autumn's Way
ALLIES: The blade[Thane Lavelle], Old Gregor, The Bard[Telor], The Aggressive One[Jarl], Pretty Lights Mage [Aspen] The New one [Zarola]
THE WHISPERS INSIDE MY HEAD:: Bad World by Benn

OOC:

[Negative Happy Chainsaw]

How long had it been? Years? Months? Perhaps even merely days that seemed to drag on as such? The actual answer made little to no consequence, the passage of time was all the same through Fallon’s eyes. The thought however was in relevance to how long it had been since had departed from Belmere; but more significantly, how much distance she had put between herself and that man. Adjusting the hood of cloak downward to try and shield her face from the setting sun, she reached into the small sack tied around her belt and retrieved an apple. It was a small consolation prize she had won from one of the villages a few miles back from the road she traveled. Well, won would be the wrong terminology to use; she simply alleviated them of their overstock. While common thievery was not her usual motif, things had become so dull as of late that she was forced to resort to such methods to keep herself entertained.

Sighing she brought the orb to her lips before taking a bite, this was how killers lost their edge; boredom. The last real action she had participated in was the merchant’s ball, and even that was nothing to boast of. Poison was effective in its own right, but it took the sport out of it all. The raw sensation of steel slicing effortless into flesh and bone, and with enough blood to paint the sky red, just the thought sent shivers down her spine. And yet…the sullied prince whom she had taken the job from had specifically requested just the opposite. If given the chance again, she would have dragged the corpse of that foolish draskr to Lucas’s side and danced through the crowds with it before handing it over. Furrowing her brow she spit out the chewed bits of apple before wiping away the remnants with her sleeve, just thinking his name had caused the food to spoil. Tossing the remains aside for the bottom dwellers to feast upon, Fallon continued onward down the dirt route

Her destination at this point and time was ambiguous. When she had originally been hired by that man his intentions were clear. However, the longer she remained she realized he was in fact unsure of even his own path. It had all begun with the simple task of infiltrating a miscellaneous group who had ruffled his panties during a previous encounter, for what exactly he refrained to say, but apparently they had something that he desired. And yet, it had become apparent he had either shifted his mindset to other more pressing matters or the more likely of conclusions, his intel had failed him and he had absolutely no idea where they were. Still, he had been fool enough to pay part of her wages up front, so when the opportune moment arose, she bid him and that breeding pool of a capital farewell. But the faint jingle of coin resonated loudly with each step. Assassins, especially one who had attempted to murder her master and was branded a traitor were not exactly prone to building a nest egg for themselves. Since a long and fulfilling life was out of the question since an arrow could pierce her heart at any time, the more logical reasoning was to spend it while she had it and was alive long enough to use it. To summarize, she was broke. Glancing upward from beneath the hood, the sound of horse and carriage growing near caught her attention. Pulling the material back down, she felt her abdomen to ensure the bandaging which wrapped around her torso was secure which concealed her tattoo. Being a well-known sell sword had its advantages, unless of course the person seeking you was an enemy.

As the buggy drew closer, the driver kept his speed as if he would pass by without confrontation. Watching from her peripheral, the cargo looked harmless enough, a few crates and farm feed; nothing that would fetch a hefty price should she desire to take it for herself. The horse though was a different story; it would make traveling these long distances far less of an inconvenience. Just as she turned to face the passerby, the driver pulled back on the reigns as the carriage came to an abrupt halt. An elderly gentleman calmed the horses quickly before twisting his body to look back toward her. What was left of his salt and pepper colored hair was spread about in different locations; no doubt he had been riding for some time. He was dressed as that of a peasant, a tattered and dirty shirt with trousers to match; this further resolved robbing him would not be lucrative in the least and not worth her time.

“Ah miss, are you happening to be heading toward Damerel?” the man finally said addressing her.
Turning round, she faced him properly keeping her head tilted downward so not to reveal her face, “Damerel?” she asked inquisitively.
“Aye, you must not be from these parts. I assumed as much as we don’t have many peddlers down this road due to the recent increase of bandits. They’re known to steal more than just your freight if you catch my meaning.”
The thought of bandits sounded intriguing, especially since it would provide some much needed entertainment. But that could wait for later, “I take it Damerel is a village?”
“Mm, one could call it a village, but it’s more like an infested cesspool now. Many of these uncouth folk who take to crime for a living tend to pass through often for the drink and women. Tis why I wanted to offer a word of caution if you are travelling there, word had it the Lux Boys arrived there not long ago and are causing all sorts of chaos.”
Unable to resist, she flashed a toothy grin at his good natured heed, “My my, that does sound dangerous. And you said it is this way?” she asked extending her arm and pointing in the direction she been heading.
“Yes, just twenty or so miles down this road.” He retorted with a smile.
Bringing her hand to her chin, she tapped it three times before looking up to the man, “That is a mighty fine looking steed you have there.”
“Eh?” he said confused as she approached the carriage.

Nightfall had just set upon the horizon when Fallon reached the boarders of Damerel. The man had not been lying when he described the town, she had not even dismounted the horse and had already passed by two bodies face down in the dirt, and at least three more were scattered about near the stables. Jumping down from the stallion, she ushered it into an empty stall with a slap to its hind. Dusting her hands she preceded deeper into the heart of Damerel, she had made much better time than originally anticipated; travelling by horse was much more productive after all.
The town was lively to say the least. No doubt the arrival of these Lux Boys had something to do with it, drunken shouts filled the air, the sound of shattering glass and women’s cries; this was exactly what she had been craving. With such chaos there was bound to be work, all that was needed was to settle into the sleaziest looking establishment and wait until it presented itself. Taking notice of the first inn that caught her eye, Fallon maneuvered past the stumbling fools and entered. Tossing what remained of her coin to the woman behind the desk who cowered as she walked in. Clearly she feared for her life due to the current inhabitants, but did not hesitate collecting the payment quickly and handing over the key.

Once in her room, Fallon discarded the cloak and tossed it onto the unappealing looking bed. The room itself was not the most accommodated, but it would have to do since it was the last of her gold. But that was only a temporary glitch. Walking to the window, she looked down onto Damerel with much anticipation. Now that her lodging was settled, she turned round to head back down to get started when the room suddenly went pitch black. Swinging around with a hand at the hilt of her sword, she could not sense any other presence. With caution she stepped forward toward the candle, taking hold of the matches, she lit one grazing it against the wick. As the room filled once against with light, she felt the blade against her neck forcing her head back.
“I thought it would only be a matter of time.” She inched out, with each word the steel danced across cricoid cartilage of her trachea.
The assailant did not reply nor did he ease the weapon from her skin.
“Predictable, but unless you plan to live the rest of your days a monk, I suggest you stand down.” She mused while digging her dagger into their groin.
It only took a moment to feel his resolve falter. Pushing her head forward slightly to create enough distance, she slammed it back causing her pursuer to become disoriented. Pushing his hand away from her neck, she spun around digging the blade completely into his gentiles. Covering his mouth to muffle his cries, she twisted the blade glaring into his widened strained eyes, “Then again, I am not fond of monks.” Retracting the blade from his groin, she swiftly relocated it into the side of his neck. Stepping back to admire the scene, the assassin made one last effort lunging forward, but he was already dead, he simply didn’t know it yet. Easily side stepping his attack, he fell onto the table exhausting the candle light once again. He struggled only seconds more before his body went completely limp.
Approaching the body, she knelt down removing the blade from the corpse. Wiping it against her pant leg to remove the excess blood she sighed looking around the room. Oddly it was an improvement. Looking back to the body, she reached down shoving it over to its backside before examining it. Tearing at the neckline, she pulled back the material to reveal an ever familiar marking on the lower half of his chest.

“The Sacred Hand…” she said aloud unconsciously running her fingers over the imprint.
“Ruthless as ever Fallon.”
Reacting instantly upon hearing the voice from behind, she grasped the daggers at her side before twisting her body around to throw them, but she was not fast enough. The moment her hand lifted she felt her left shoulder penetrated with enough force to knock her back. As her body hit the wall, she glared through the darkness to retaliate, “I see you still prefer cowardice tactics Gavriel.” She growled ripping the knives from her body and tossing them onto the ground. An odd sensation began to travel down the left half of her body which forced her to remain kneeling, it was no doubt poison from the curare plant, a potent but short lived neurotoxin which caused paralysis.

The man stepped forth from the shadows, shaking his head with an eerie unpleasant smile upon his lips. He wore the garb of the guild, a dark loose fitting uniform with a mask covering the lower half of his face. Only the glint of his icy blue glare could be seen behind the strands of auburn hair. “I prefer to think of it as simply keeping the upper hand, and after all, you are known to lose your temper.”
As her body became progressively numb, she eyed him closely aware she was at a disadvantage, but if he wanted her life he would have already claimed it. Gavriel was not just any member of the guild; he was the direct protégé of Quiss. In all her years with them, she had never been able to land even one successful hit on him. He was truly a monster.
“So what do I owe the pleasure of Quiss’s lapdog? Surely you didn’t come all this way just to watch one of your men die?”
“You do not recognize him?” Gavriel asked curiously, “I would not think your memory has become so hazy over the years. After all, it hasn’t been that long since you through your little tantrum over…oh what was the name of that fair skinned sister of yours who cried your name so loudly when being ravaged?”
Fallon felt her blood boil almost to the point of it bursting from her veins, “You will not speak her name!” she growled between clenched teeth. Fighting her own body to move, she desired nothing more than to gouge his eyes from his skull and feed them to him.
“Now now, you know it is useless to resist the toxin’s effect. But it should last long enough to finish what I was saying. Tell me again, do you not recognize him?”
Only able to see red, she did not alter her line of sight away from him.
Sighing he walked to her, “Rebellious til the end.” Kneeling down she grasped her head violently turning it toward the corpse. Reaching out he pulled down the mask revealing the man’s face.
“Esk.” She muttered emotionless.
“Bingo.” Gavriel chimed, “Esk, Quiss’s son and only heir…well he was.”
“And you watched him die.”
“Right again.” He said before shoving her head against the wall, “See, I knew you were still as sharp as before.”
“He’ll have your head for this you know. Quiss was anything but merciful. My only regret is that you two may kill each other in the process.” Fallon snarled.
“Quite the opposite, since you are the one who killed him.” He replied taking a few steps back, “You see Quiss always regarded you as something unique. Even after what you did the guild was ordered to watch you, and for years we did as such. Did you honestly believe you had escaped our eye? Even meeting with that pompous prince in Belmere we were close by. Nice touch with that draskr by the way, such a filthy race, it was quite enjoyable to watch.”
“If you have a point get to it, because once I regain control of my body you will be dead before you can take another breath.”
Laughing mockingly, Gavriel nodded, “Of course, but I am afraid we are out of time, that is the signal.”
From beyond the walls of the inn blood curdled cries echoed throughout Damerel. Fallon did not have to guess what was happening; she knew well enough what those sounds meant. The town, the entire town was being exterminated by the men who followed the man standing before her. She knew not what his plans were in their entirety, but he meant to keep her alive to claim responsibility for the blood spilt this night.
“Until next time.” Gavriel chimed before vanishing into the darkness.

Fallon was unaware how long she waited, but she had finally regained sensation in her limbs. Jumping to her feet dashed through the door as the stench of death filled the halls. Racing past the body of the innkeeper, she exited into the still and silent town. Corpses littered the ground, hundreds ranging from children to the elderly. The town which just moments ago had bustled with life was now nothing more than a graveyard. Pushing forward she reached the stables to find the horses missing. Clenching her fist she cursed loudly to think they wouldn’t have handled such a small detail.
“What in Aldane’s name has happened here!” a voice exclaimed from behind.
Spinning around she saw the same older man from before jump from his carriage calming the newly attained horse as he covered his mouth to block the stench. She was unsure how exactly he had acquired a new steed in such a short amount of time, but she did not care.
Averting his gaze to her his eyes widened spotting the marking on her abdomen and fiery red hair, “You.” He managed to stutter out while lifting a finger pointing toward her, “You’re that woman they talk about aren’t you, you did this!?”
Ignoring his words, she approached him which caused the man to stumble backward tripping over one of the bodies. Trembling upon the ground he watched as she unharnessed the horse from the carriage and mounted it quickly.
“You won’t go unpunished for this!” he cried in fear, “Be it the king or Aldane himself, you will be judged!”
Fallon smirked looking down at him as she maneuvered the horse by, “Then pray to your god he be swift and merciless.”
With a kick of her feet the horse reared back before galloping into the night.

Fallon rode through the darkness with the foolish hope that she may find Gavriel and other guild members. The toxin had dissipated not long after they had taken out an entire town, but she was aware it was not soon enough. Still, she pushed the animal beneath onward searching for something, anything. It wasn’t until the morning dawn creeped from beyond the horizon that Fallon made camp at a small brush of forest to allow the creature to rest and tend to her own wounds. As the horse collapsed to the ground, she approached to see if it was dead. Luckily it was merely exhausted, but had she gone any further it would surely have been. Tearing apart the riding cloth with her dagger she began to wrap her shoulder, though the point was rather moot as the bleeding has all but stopped. It was a temporary fix for now until she could find a water source to properly clean and wrap it. Looking around her surroundings she was sure that she was in an area of the kingdom completely unfamiliar to her, it was likely that she was no longer even in Riemos territory. She had ridden blindly all night and put quite a bit of distance between herself and Damerel. Even before that Fallon had been travelling for unknown amount of time, so if there was a proper word to use it would be lost. Her body dropped to the ground as she closed her eyes propping her head against a large oak. Her mind raced to make sense of what had happened. Why would Gavriel risk his own life to frame her for the murder of Esk and an entire town? For as long as she had known him he was fiercely loyal to Quiss, no master could ask for a more devote right hand; and yet he had betrayed him. What was the meaning behind his words that Quiss had regarded her as unique? Her mind had gone blank the moment he mentioned Rasiel, so nothing had registered until now. All she knew was that her body ached and her horse would not be fit to travel for hours. Her mind began to drift once more but this time only darkness consumed her mind as she drifted to sleep.

It was the violent stirring of the stallion’s neighs that awoke her some time later. Without thinking she was on her feet with a hand to her sword. Her eyes darted back and forth, but there was nothing in sight. Releasing her grip on the hilt, she walked to the animal to try and calm him. He was obviously spooked by something which caused him to thrash about. Grabbing hold of the reigns, she growled trying to control the creature, “Knock it off you beastly thing.” Finally able to gain control of the horse, she patted its head but it still did not seem appeased. It kept its body in the direction east of their location still unsteady and refusing to remain stationary. Sighing she nodded, “Alright alright, I’ll go look.” She muttered walking toward where it was focused at.
Moving through the brush of the trees, Fallon remained alert ready for a possible ambush or attack. Finally her gaze fell upon something in the distance. Approaching with caution, she drew near as the hazy apparition came into focus. It was a body. Had the Sacred Hand passed through here? It was unlike them to kill without purpose, even if that purpose was the genocide of an entire town. Kneeling next to the body, she turned it over to reveal it was a woman, upon further inspection it wasn’t just a woman, but an elf. Golden waves of hair fell across her face and elongated slender body, but perhaps the most distinctive feature was a blindfold covering her eyes. The body itself was unscathed, not even evident of a struggle, except for perhaps her face which was taught as if she had experienced great pain before losing consciousness. Reaching down she slid her fingers beneath the cloth upon her face, it was quite a curious discovery what lay beneath, but whatever it was, was not the work of the guild. The elf herself was an enigma. How had she come to be at such a place, alone and utterly defenseless? And yet something about her, be it her presence or the mysterious aura which emanated, she could not help but think back to what Lucas had said of the group he had wanted her to find. She looked to frail that Fallon would have no trouble slicing through her flesh with minimal force. Her fingers danced about the hilt of her blade as she contemplated the thought. Standing she turned back toward where she had come and released an echoing whistle. It took a moment, but the horse came trotting over having finally rid itself of fear. Reaching down she managed to lift the woman what little strength remain and hoist her onto the steed. Leading the horse back to the campsite, she unloaded the elf propping her against the tree upright. Positioning herself across from the unconscious stranger, she kept her hand at the hilt of her sword merely watching and waiting. Whoever she was, Fallon was not taking any chances should she awaken with misdirected aggression. But she had some questions to answer once she did wake.

[TheoryOverdose]

The beginning of a new adventure.

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There was a darkness around her, yet she heard the whispers. The constant buzzing in the back of her mind that often made no sense. The voices meshed together, their words uttered far too quickly for anyone to listen onto. Yet there was something about these voices that seemed familiar, as if she had once heard them. Those soft voices seemed to have no end, their words becoming more jumbled as the elf tried to listen.

Hissaelil was content to just let the conversations be a soft background noise, ignoring them completely. Yet within time the words began to become more frantic, the voices crescendo in volume till they hit unbearable climax. It was as if her instincts toke over and somehow…the elf opened her eyes to the dull light under the tree.


There should have been a wave of pain when she opened her eyes. A gasp still left her lips as her body froze in a mixture of fear and shock. The memories flooded forward, the teeth against her neck, the poison as it infected her body. Yet she felt none of this, was it possible that there was something after life? No…..because no heaven would continue to deny her the use of her eyes.

It was the sound of a horse, snorting at the ground as it picked through the grass, which drew Hissaelil from her mind. No one within the group had a horse, and there was no way Autumns Way had any such animal hiding within its folds. How long had she been awake, had they truly moved that far without her? Quickly she dropped the bubble around her, allowing her magic to fill the surrounding area so that she could see those around her. There was only one problem, before her was a person….one in which she had never meet.

Was it wrong that in that moment her heart seemed to skip a beat? Why where the others gone, had her……’event’ been real, did they really ignore her? The elf could have spent forever wracking her brain for the answers she craved, yet that would get her no were. The crimson glow of a person in front of her was a stranger, which meant Hissaelil needed to move beyond the fog that claimed her mind and take action.

Her body shifted, testing her limbs and their mobility. It seemed that whoever this was had not thought to tie her up, which was always a good sign. It meant that maybe this person could be trusted, at least for the moment.

“Who….who are you? I do not recall our meeting or what has happened. Perhaps…..you can fill me in?”

It was a habit for her to adjust her blindfold throughout the day, ensuring the cloth still clung to her skin. Yet it felt loose, as if someone had been messing with the fabric. Her pale fingers touched her cheek feeling the tattered threads of that which was supposed to be located much higher. While part of the fabric had been put back in place, it had been rushed and therefore did not remain in its spot. It seemed her new….’acquaintance’ was incredibly nosy and lacked any sort of personal space.

“Why did you move my blindfold? Isn’t it obvious why a person would wear one? Trust me it’s not for personal pleasure….”

If the elf had the function of her eyes she would have rolled them with such volume that the person would understand her frustration. Instead they would just have to settle with her face twisting into a scowl, her jaw locking into position without hesitation.

LOCATION: Unknown, in the shade
ALLIES: Nosy [Fallon Nile]
THE WHISPERS INSIDE MY HEAD:: Reapers by Cell Theory <- I had this in mind with the whispering part.
OOC:

[Negative Happy Chainsaw]

Fallon clicked her tongue; boredom had taken root once again.

With a leg crossed against the other and her head in her hand, she had been watching the unconscious woman for what felt like hours. She had already grown tired of trying to deduce her own circumstances, and the foreign elf had been meant to serve as something of a distraction; at least for the moment. Having done everything from trying to balance of the tip of her dagger on her finger to using the woman as target practice, she was beginning to reach her limit. The horse was already rejuvenated having eaten nearly all the grass in the immediate area, which meant that it was ready to ride again. She hadn’t given much thought to where she would go. By now word had already reached Quiss regarding the fate of his son, it was only a matter of time before he would come for her head personally. The concept didn’t shake her in the slightest; it only meant that he would be that much easier to find. No matter what Gavriel had planned it didn’t change the fact that she would kill them all eventually.

Having finally become fed up with waiting, Fallon stood returning the dagger to the holster at her backside. Whoever this elf was she no longer cared. The daylight was growing dimmer by the hour and she desired to get as much of the road traveled as possible. With the last of her coin going to purchase a room in Damrel, or what was left of it, she needed to pick up a job fast. The problem, well one of them was that she was unfamiliar with the terrain. She had no map, no money, and a guild of elite assassins after her; so an average day.

Tending to the horse, she placed the bridle and reigns back onto the horse and what was left of the riding blanket. Her plan was to ride until nightfall, at least then she could use the veil of night to find out the information regarding where exactly she was and if there was a village or town nearby to find work. It was then she heard the rustling from behind. With her hand already at the hilt of her sword, she swung around to find the woman was finally regaining consciousness. Taking a few cautionary steps toward her, Fallon made sure to keep her uninjured side toward the stranger. She had not bothered to bind the elf, what with her frail state and what lingered beneath the blindfold…or lack thereof, she was confident should the woman be hostile that she would be able to subdue her with ease

Once the elf had finally come to, she appeared dazed a moment before locking onto the direction of where Fallon stood. She did not hesitate in speaking, though her voice and what she spoke indicated she too seemed unaware of how she came to be here. But the damsel in distress façade quickly deteriorated once she took note her mask of sorts had been tampered with. Raising an eyebrow at how quickly her tone changed and the words which followed, she couldn’t help but smirk at the expression this woman wore, especially in her predicament.

“Well considering the rest of your attire, one can never be too sure.” Fallon replied still with her hand at her blade. She paced around the tree the elf still sat at gauging her reaction time, and despite the obvious handicap, it was quite on point. It was impressive to say the least, but not intriguing enough to warrant applause. “Think of it as mere curiosity. After all, one does not normally end up face down in the middle of the woods and live to tell about it, at least in my experience.”

Releasing her grip of the hilt, Fallon stopped before the woman with her arm crossed against her chest, “As far as whom I am, well let’s just say I am no one to be trifled with. Regarding how you came to be I wouldn’t know. Your presence startled my horse and there you were. Considering the wolves hadn’t had their go at your body, I’d say you couldn’t have been there more than a few hours else you’d have more to complain about than just your blindfold being tampered with.”

It was then a thought occurred. While the woman posed no immediate threat, she could be useful. The peddler she had encountered before had surely spread word of her by now. She would have to deal with evading kingsmen as well as the Sacred Hand. Her usual modus operandi would give her away to anyone looking, but a traveling companion may provide the necessary guise, at least until she was able to kill Quiss and Gavriel.
“While I know not if you were traveling alone or have become separated from your companions, you have two options at this time. Wait here in hopes someone far more compassionate than myself stumbles upon you and offers aid, or accompany me.”
Fallon smirked glancing down to the woman, “I won’t guarantee your survival, but what’s the fun in that.”



Location [Unknown Forest] With [A sassy elf] Mood [Intrigued] Status [Broke]