Ьȴʊє Ͻ a r a v a n 🚙 🚙 🚙 (new thread!)

Favorite Character Poll Round 10!

Lucien Balthazar Mchale - Vicious hunter of humans and dragons.	27.3%	[ 3 ]
Vasul Calim Shahrad - Crown Prince of Shahrazad and righteous eagle among a flock of vultures.	9.1%	[ 1 ]
Lorelei 'Ellie' Katerini - Knight Errant and Defender of Justice who will kick your butt!	18.2%	[ 2 ]
Inyri Ven - Sharp-minded beauty and budding lady of wares.	18.2%	[ 2 ]
Eriol Epheis - Mysterious man with an eye for the prize.	27.3%	[ 3 ]
Total Votes:			[ 11 ]

This poll closed on November 27, 2014.
No longer accepting new votes.

[jadeshaw88]

If only night could hold you...
Ari wasn't really sure the bandit was all that interested in her answer. She also didn't think that he had gotten the hint that she was still pretty angry with him for hurting Aus nor did he seem to understand that she was scolding him for promising to teach her to fight and not following through. Of course, someone as famous as Rashiek would no doubt be self centered. Why would he care what she thought? Despite the fact that he acted like he regarded her highly, it was clear enough that he wasn't about to be told off by someone he felt was beneath him. She was only a tool for him...for Velius...for anyone. She had to remember that. Nesa and Jon were the only people she could really trust. They were the only ones who were her friends because they liked her. She supposed part of that was her attitude but she couldn't help that. She had been used so often that it was hard not to create a thick shell against others.

She was actually kind of glad that Jon was unconscious at the moment. If he had heard Rashiek's comment about him being a sleeping little darling, he would have either fainted again or he would have felt even worse about himself than he had before. It was hard to tell which way Jon would react sometimes. It all depended on what he wanted the bandit king to think about him. If she had a chance to talk to him, she was pretty sure that she would suggest that he not go for anything too manly. She would also suggest not trying anything romantic. Despite the fact that Rashiek hung around the flamboyant slaver a lot, she didn't think that he actually flowed that way.

When he offered to help her pack her things, she shrugged. It would certainly make things go faster if she had help packing up. She still didn't understand why she was being moved to the slaver's wagon but she was determined to make it clear that she would not be a captive again. Maybe this was really just an act of kindness but she wasn't going to hold her breath. She had been fooled one too many times. "You can help if you would like. I understand if you have better things to do but it would probably help a lot." She probably would have pushed the topic even more if she knew exactly where his thoughts were going at the moment. If nothing else, it would have been amusing. However, she couldn't read minds...

Though it wasn't too hard to guess where his thoughts had gone when he very abruptly asked her if she could. Not having her sight, she was able to hear a slight edge to his voice that perhaps no one else would have noticed. Either he was planning her death or it was something else entirely. Considering that he had just offered to help her pack, it could have something pervy. Or he could be plotting to kill her in the wagon. She chose to believe the second option though. What good would killing her now do? She allowed herself to smirk and look up in his direction. "Why? Were you being a bad bandit king?" She drawled in a flirty voice. This could possibly be dangerous but so was almost everything she did lately.

...Where I can see you, my love

[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

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ABEL'S FABLES
Volume Two Chapter Eighty
In which Abel talks a bit more about himself.

Abel listened to the man's apology, and the revelation about himself, about his pain over losing the boy Caden, a brother to him. He felt a stab of sympathy. He too had a brother that he had lost, and that was why he had left home in the first place - not that it was the reason he always gave people first. He was out to search for his fortune (which had been why his brother had left in the first place), and he also told people he was out to get himself a bounty. And that bounty was Rasheik. Fat chance he had of that though. After meeting the man, it was hard to think of himself as being the one who would catch him and bring him in. "M'brotha, I uh...I guess ya could say I loss 'im ta. Innaway. I mean, he left home when I was younga'...I mean, real young. N' I uh, I kinda hope ta find 'im when I'm out here. We used ta be real close when I was a tyke. M'da died when I was a babe, n' so it was me mum, me bra, n'me. We used ta go adventurin'. He'd lead, n' I would follow. We neva went anyplace tha' would actually be dangerous. Well, mosta th' time. Otherwise our mum would flip. I remember one time... " Abel paused to chuckle, "We went down ta th' gully. It's all rocky, n' nah the place for small boys ta go explorin', but that was why we went. Ya know? Ya tell a kid not ta go someplace, n' he wants ta go there even more. Sa, we went ta th' gully. We tol' m'mum we was goin' ta the neighbor's farm ta work. We packed ourselves a lunch n' some snacks, n' off we went. Jack was abou'....ten years olda' then me. Jacks; m'brotha mind ya.

" Anyway, 'e was the leader. Sa 'e went down in the gully first. He was real nimble, n' I was real clumsy. So I watched 'im, ta see where he went, n then I'd go after. But 'e went real fast, n' his legs were longer then mine - kinda funny considerin' tha' m'probably taller than 'im now. 'e was never really tall. Pretty average. 'Nyway."Abel moved into the wagon, carefully resting the tapestry in the spot indicated.

He brushed it off gently, in case of any of the dust from the sand had gathered upon it. It was a beautiful thing, and he wanted to keep it that way. He took another quick whif of himself, and he realized that Velius had never given him a solid answer on whether he smelled bad or not. What kind of a man to man response had that been? He scowled, but decided that Velius was probably in enough emotional pain and didn't need Abel's b.o. problems on top of it. He rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. "'e got down in the gully right quick, n' 'e left me up there. I started climbin' down, n' at one point, I was just kinda danglin'. M'feet couldn' reach a spot where 'is feet could. So I figured I could jus' drop down n' still make it. I didn' figure that m'weight would mess it up, droppin' down like that. N' I knocked the rock loose, next thing I knew, I was flyin' in the air, n' I landed on m' back on somethin' hard. Clear knocked the wind outta me. Jack ran over ta' me, n' he kept askin' if I was ok. N' I couldn' talk, n' I wanted ta cry or somethin', but I couldn'. An' he though I was dyin', n' I thought I was dyin'. N' he thought I broke all m'ribs.

"Lucky fa me, I got m' air back. N' I slugged 'im in th' arm. But it didn' hurt 'im. He laughed it off, n' we neva told mum. Probably th' best. Still, wasn' all tha' 'appened on the gully." Abel looked over at Velius, jamming his hands in his pockets, taking a step to the side and shuffling a little. Velius probably didn't care all that much about his story. It probably only reminded him of his own brother typed and made him feel ever worse for losing him. "I uh...I bet ya brother fell through th' ground like his son did. Justa thought." Abel offered him a smile that he hoped was consoling. Then he remembered what Vel had actually been curious about from the start. "Bu', a', ya wanted ta know about Rasheik. I can't say there's much a' solid fact about 'im. There's legends n' stories tha' me ma told me about when I was little, but I didn' think the man was real until I actually met 'im." Of course, Abel knew most of those stories. Knew them by heart. But, he wasn't going to bore Velius with the details of those.

Abel probably still needs a bath.

[ChinchiIIin]

Rachelle’s mind did not register that the hard substance blocking his weapon of choice was a knife. Instead, in his haze as the instincts of a predator being threatened began to take root deeper in his mind, the knife was an extension of the creature’s body. Something that sharp meant the thing was dangerous. Something dangerous meant he had to defend his home and rid himself of it permanently. He would not make the same mistake as he had with the foul smelling thing that now lay dead by his hand. These things would perish here and now, he would make certain of that.

However when he heard them speak rationalization tried to claw its way back into control. Voices speaking to him. He had not heard human speech in a very long time, save for when he spoke to himself or the fish on occasion to try and keep his ability to speak intact. But the instincts of the beasts within forced the rational thinking aside once more as he pressed into the thing blocking his sword before jumping back, his wings beating hard to take him out of reach, eyes darting around to watch them.

Two wreaked of fear, even if one of them seemed to try and overcome it. The one that managed to block him was clearly a confident and dominant male figure. Rachelle stepped slowly sideways, as such confidence in another male certainly meant he was strong. Then one of the females, also bearing a large and very strange appendage on her limbs, stepped forward to block any path to the second fearful thing. Like the male, she too had confidence in her body language. And that strange appendage was likely dangerous.

The final member, though, was a smaller female. It was this female that made even the beasts within Rachelle’s mind to pause, hesitating to strike. She was small and bore no strange limbs like the others, yet he could smell no fear from her. Instead, it was almost a calming presence he sensed from her. It allowed a small bit of rational thinking to break through the intense instincts telling him to attack again. Though he clearly thought them a dangerous herd of something to defend his home from, he hesitated in attacking once more. Though his hesitation to attack again was clear, he also refused to back down, holding his ground in a way that would leave little doubt that he would fight to the death to chase these intruders away if he had to.

His tail flicked back and forth in irritation at the conflicts in his mind, his wings ruffling slightly in response. He didn’t like this. They were dangerous, yet he couldn’t bring himself to try and kill them so easily now. His home was in danger and he couldn’t bring himself to actively defend it from these creatures who had trespassed upon it. A low growl escaped him as he warred inwardly, glaring at the ones who caused such drastic opinions within him.

[jadeshaw88]

Jonathan Cortez

Hey ladies ho ladies
Come follow with me
Hey ladies ho ladies
Come follow with me.

Perhaps Jonathan would have found their conversation amusing or perhaps he would have joined the bandit in his perverted musings about the seers undergarments. They would never know, for it wasn't until his body touched the lush pillows that Jon roused himself from his faint. his eyes focused just in time to see the bandit pull his arms away from him and exit the wagon. He was so excited that the man had carried him to this glorious place that he nearly fainted again. However, he managed to keep his head this time and took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

Rashiek the Bold had carried him! He had been that close to his idol. Had touched him and he had been UNCONSCIOUS the whole time!!!! It didn't matter though, conscious or not, Rashiek had carried him. Sure, he would have to edit it for his children when he retold the tale someday but so what? Maybe they had been attacked by men who sought to prove themselves greater than the bandit king and Jon had lept in font of the famous man to save him from a sneak attack from behind. Rashiek was so impressed by his bravery and so concerned for the innocent minstrel's plight, the minstrel who had saved his pride ((for everyone knew that he couldn't be killed)), that he carried him for miles over burning sand in a merciless desert until they found salvation with The Blue Caravan!!!! Yes, that would do.

That settled, he looked around the wagon he was in and frowned. During the many times that he had imagined being invited into Rashiek's wagon for...whatever reason...there was a different one every time...he never thought it would look like this. This looked like something Ari might like but definitely not the bandit king. It wasn't necessarily girly it was just...not manly.

Then it hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew where he was now and he really really really didn't want to be there anymore. No matter that Rashiek clearly wanted him to stay there he just...Did Rashiek think he was gay because he fainted? That wasn't very fair and if he was gay, he would be offended that the man just assumed that he was because he did something unmanly. Gay men could be manly too. He had seen it....felt it...He shook his head. He wasn't going to go down that part of memory lane. Although he didn't necessarily mind men for lovers...if they were pretty enough...he just...he didn't like the idea of being served up on a silver platter for the slaver. Plus, although he thought he was attractive, he didn't really think he was the slaver's type. He had seen the other man that had joined his wagon in Belorner and the man was a knock out. The priest would be a much better choice for a new man slave. Jon was meant to be free!!! He was the very definition of free. All he possessed in the world could be carried on his back...Except for Chubby and Chubby could carry himself.

He slowed his panicking down. He was probably just overreacting. Maybe he really did have heat stroke. He was usually much more level-headed than this, in his opinion anyway. Perhaps this was just a joke that Ari was playing on him or something. She didn't really have much of a sense of humor but she did have a wicked sense of vengeance and he had written a rather...interesting song about her devouring men. Not that he had seen her do much of that lately. He hadn't really with anyone lately either...he should probably fix that. This is what happens when you get distracted, people think you're gay. He was going to have to pick which flower he liked best and stop mooning over every girl in the caravan. That would be his goal from now on if he wasn't forced into being a man slave. He was going to settle down. He could do that right? Well he would give it his best shot. That's all you could really ask of a person, right?

I've searched the world over
For maidens in plight
To help them through their days
And me through my nights
My quest never ending
My song is now through
If you're a maiden in trouble
I'll be coming for you.

[Watervoir]

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xxxxCaden AlinarixxxxGuard
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While wrestling with his divine adversary, Caden shot a glance backward to get a better grip of his surroundings. The woman in red had vanished into the abyss. What heart-aching sorrow -- she was the next in line! His boss was gone, having strayed off to investigate the fallen devotee and then afterwards to crouch in the shadows to entertain some enthusiastic mushroom people and their snake transports. Or maybe he was at the corner because he was afraid... but that wasn't possible, he was their almighty boss!

It wasn't a smart idea for him to divert attention from an assailant, but he was only a mere clam digger. What did he know. So, his eyes darted onward, their sights jumping to Nesa before finally landing on the Artemist priest. The image made him think. As far as Caden could tell, all they had to do was give the kid a polite reminder of the policies listed in the fine print. The blonde lady with the heavy battle axe -- his cohort in arms -- had the right idea. He wasn't sure what she was rambling about with home and accidents, but she had the correct tone of voice. Peaceful negotiations (with maybe a weapon or two to get the idea across) was the key. Everyone simply had to be clear on the stipulations attached to this exclusive interview and then everything would flow as smooth as water. It wasn't clear to him at all what had possessed the others knees and make them quake in fear so. There was no danger. Besides, the pukey man was a priest -- weren't men of cloth supposed to get along with angels?

When the angel backed off, Caden gave a satisfied nod before twirling his dagger expertly and sliding it back into the sheathe in his hip. "That's a good sport." He beamed a friendly grin at the strange kid with the lion's tail and strolled up to him smartly. He was growling, but all fan boys did that when they were denied immediate entry. Each individual of that category thought themselves to be the star's 'biggest fan' and thus deserved an instant all-access pass. Granted, their behaviour was what guaranteed him a job as bouncer to begin with, so Caden shouldn't be too critical. He wrapped an arm around the angel's shoulders. "Sorry buddy -- you know how busy Boss can be. I can't say for sure, but I think he's a bit shy around the presses too. But here, listen close. If you behave, I might just be able to get you his autograph. You would like that, right?" He smiled widely at the angel to make it clear that there were no hard feelings, all the while wondering what salary cuts might result from this. The manager was a tough cookie.

"Hey! I know what would make the wait all the more worthwhile." He pointed at the priest. "You! Come back over here!" He was looking at the Artemist but his words were for everyone's ears. "Let's put on a show for this good fellow while he waits!" He put a straightened hand perpendicular to and against his forehead, although there was no sun to hamper his sights, to cast his focus upriver. "But we will have to move somewhere else. Nesa is the only one to have consumed enough air to fly. The rest of us will risk falling down that hole like Miss..." He let his head drop. It hurt too much to say. There was another woman earlier who fell with them, and he couldn't for the life of him recall where she had wandered off to. And then suddenly, his head snapped back up and he was alert, focused and smiles once more. "Alright then! Onward ho!" Now, was that knight or pirate?

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[Watervoir]

Ѵeȴɩus Kɩɾʈɑ
ɳoble

In spite of his utter desire to bolt outside and free himself of the humdrum that was Abel's story, he endured it without a complaint as a good friend would have. Rocky hillsides, running, jumping, falling, dying, chortling, a Jack. Sigh. It was his greatest wish to learn a smidgen more about the great bandit king. The farm boy was a difficult one to work with. But as irrelevant as his story was to his goals, the noble held an open ear to his tales. There was no other individual who was nearly as attached to Rasheik and was received as openly as this person sprouting hapless recounts. What the noble looked for was to form nothing short of a friendship with Abel, and as such he nodded at every one of Abel's pauses, "'nyway"s and "Ya know?"s. Abel had to realize that it was perfectly safe for him to open up to the noble. There was plenty tucked away in this country boy's noggin, and with a bit of patience Velius could learn and make use of that knowledge. Very good use of it.

He chuckled and flashed a pleasant smirk in Abel's direction. "Listen closely next time. Caden isn't my brother. I only treat him like one." Mostly. He descended from his perch on the bed and moved past Abel, giving the man a cordial knock of his knuckles against his arm before fishing out his keys once more. "You should tell me one of your stories on Rasheik some day. I would love to hear them." The door was opened, and he stood by for Abel to exit before locking it once more. "So will you be heading back to the Miss now? Allow me to accompany you." He was aware of the pair of hazel that would follow him as he made his return to the merchant alongside his merchant. Whatever the reason for the woman of that status to have her eyes trained on him so, did little to faze him. They arrived at the foot of her carpet and wares as she was making her way inside to pack. "What a shame," he remarked openly with a small simper of regret. "And I wanted to ask for her name too." The words were directed at no one in particular, but it was not long after they were voiced that a cheerful grin was given in Mercedes' direction. Her and her small army of servants.

[Dayum We Roll Hard]

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The Riddle

On their journey upstream, the stranded party would come across a series of markings on the stone walls that marched on either side of the river. Further inspection would reveal that the markings were words, and the words, mysteriously, of their common tongue. It would be difficult to find a set of characters that were whole and not faded with the years, but with a bit of searching, the group would come across some writing that was not as blurred as its neighbours. The clearest among them being, boxed in to make it clear that it was meant to be read together, would be:



MAKING
ENDEND

in

NOWHERE.
NOW↑ERE.

GO.


A sane mind might be quick to realize that what they have encountered is a puzzle. The real question would be whether it was one meant to be solved or if it was one inscribed to distract travellers from their journey. At first glance, the markings would seem to read "Making end end in nowhere. Go." Reading this aloud would cause the words and the box surrounding it to glow green, as if they were slits and a light was shining through them. A voice would tell the speaker to bring a hand against the cold surface and activate the teleportation magic that came at a great price...

[NlETZSCHE]

≼≽≼Yggdrasil "Draaz" Søren Freud≽≼≽
(Igg-Druh-S-ill "Droz" Sh-roun Frew-oid)
≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽≼≽

╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝
♦Extrovert♠ Cryptic♥ Dangerous♣
╚═════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Shady Priest
╚══════════════════════════╝

≼≽≼Far too risky To feed you with bare arms.≽≼≽

≼≽≼Wait your turn, you're greedy I hear you.≽≼≽

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Draaz watched from safety, keeping the dagger close to his chest. He ran his finger across the smooth blade, which was etched in with a name. Not Draaz' name, of course. The keeper of the knife, and also it's creator. From what he could remember of the man, he was one of the best weapons smiths on the entire continent. Named something Fjoryn or other. He only remembered the last name because it was on the blade. When they crossed paths, he was only an old crazy braggart with a strong taste and attachment to the drink.

His fingers just found the end of the man's name when the blonde woman began to speak to him. Her voice was comforting and her hand was warm as it rested on his shoulder. He eyed her, carefully, starting from her hand and moving to her face. He opened his mouth to speak but instead mouthed a thank you before she ran off to join the rest of them. He had decided to let his voice rest, as it was quite the travesty at the moment.

He watched longer, again catching the sight of the winged, horned sheep with a lions tail. Was he....safe, now? The knight certainly thought so, quickly throwing his arm around him and inviting the rest of them to join. Draaz didn't quite know what to think. A moment before, the Ram-boy had attempted to slaughter them like chickens with his strange, curved blade and now everything was fine and dandy.

He stood up as the knight beckoned him to return. A gentle smile, muddled with apprehension appeared on his face. If theatre were a sport, he'd win the Gold, silver and bronze. What he felt inside was a cool distance from the entire situation. As if he'd completely been removed from the experience, and what was left were the actions his character might take had they been in his shoes. He guarded the dagger with his hands, holding it to his heart.

"Mother please protect my soul, for I shall not harm one of your creatures." He whispered just loud enough to be heard. His eyes were wide in his face as he joined the group. "If, Mother, you choose to not protect me, forgive me for the protection I may take up for myself, and forgive the soul who threatens my life with their weapons. If I shall not survive, please take my soul to be joined with the everlasting soul of the earth. I beg of you to recycle my energy for good and make peace with those who trespass on the weak. Mother, I pray for the safety and insurance of all those who travel beside me. Protect them with your great soul, Mother and let not harm be brought onto their heads. If so you choose not to protect them with your power, please take their souls into all that is holy and great. Use their energy for good and make peace with those who trespass on the weak. Amen."

He followed the group, gripping onto his dagger as though it were his life force that he protected with his hands. By the time they'd reached the riddle, his hands and fingers would be white from gripping so tightly.


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≼≽≼How can I protect myself from you?≽≼≽

≼≽≼Trust is for fools!≽≼≽


OOC// - - -XXX》
Feeling// Displaying fear, while feeling a bit removed. I think I'm just tired.XXX》
@// Underground Cavern???XXX》
With// Daniel and ??????XXX》

[Argentine.the.Tangerine]

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Casually, Rasheik pulled himself up into the wagon that Aria had been occupying. His cheeks colored slightly at her words, wondering if she could still read his mind somehow...women had a way of being capable of doing those sorts of things to men. It had been a trick as old as time, displayed to him at a very young age by his mother, and then by any girl he'd ever dated, slept with, or walked near ever since. Was this something that happened to all men, or was he the only lucky one? "My thoughts could be worse, they're clean enough and harmless. Especially if they just stay in my head," he said, a smile playing on his lips as he began to pick up small bags of leaves, arranging them in a larger cloth sack laying about. "Do you do tea leaf readings? Or is that an offensive question to someone of your practice and skills?" He wasn't sure why any person needed so much tea. When did she even have time to drink it? Was she casually having tea parties with her passed out pal? Well, Beck was sure to love that. Anything to break out that little fancy china tea set he liked to show off. It seemed that Aria and Beck were going to get along swimmingly unless she fell in love with him. Then she'd be bound to be disappointed.


He tucked the cloth sack into a trunk and began to place other things in it delicately, trying to remain as organized as possible. Rasheik hoped she wouldn't ask him to help unpack it because he'd be so confused where to put everything. He wasn't even really sure what half of the stuff was that he was putting away. Why were there so many veils? Had she been a bride that many times? Well, she did have the sharp tongue to turn men away. Maybe she'd be a good match for that little prig who had been so quick to speak to him about his son. "You wouldn't happen to know a man with dark hair and red eyes, would you? He spoke to me for the first time today. Obviously he's not a fan of my work." Well, that was putting it lightly. He seemed to think that Rasheik shouldn't be in control of anything...not a caravan, and obviously not a son. "Granted, I haven't been much of a father for the boy. I left him at a young age because I had business and matters to attend to, and I wasn't prepared to be a father. I was selfish, and I thought I could just...stop in and see him when I pleased.

"But that's not how being a parent works, and his mother wasn't very fond of my parenting tactics, so I wasn't allowed to see him when I did come by." Rasheik heaved a deep sigh, then went back to packing, finishing off a trunk and checking to see how heavy it was to make sure he could carry it, and he could. He shoved the trunk to the edge of the wagon the leapt down, lifting a hand to help Aria down before taking up the trunk once more. "Now to see my own boy I have to kidnap him, and when I do that, he gets sucked into the ground...and I can't let him down again," he finished. He continued to walk in silence, his mind clouded with thoughts. When he returned to Beck's wagon, he threw open the curtain and slid the trunk in before getting up inside himself. He then turned to help Aria up.

When his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, he saw that Jon had woken from his ...fainting tizzy. Hopefully he wouldn't get the vapors again. That would be truly embarrassing. "Good to see you up. This is Beck's wagon. It's darker here, and well cushioned, so I thought it might be a good place for Aria. You seem to be accompanying her, and I'm sure Beck will be thrilled to have ..." a new plaything? something else to hit on? a cuddle buddy? "...more company." Sure, that sounded harmless enough.






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[artfreek]

~~~~Nesa Comec~~~~


The creature hesitated at her words. They must have done something. She moved to the front of the group holding out her hands calmly. “We aren't here to hurt, I promise.” She glanced around at the group around her. “Maybe if you guys put your weapons down he'll be calmer.” She said quietly to them. She doubted they would follow her advise though. The Negotiation was not at the forefront of their minds.

She walked out farther from the group slowly. “We just need a way out that's all. I don't have any weapons.” She said to the crouching beast, but then Caden walked right past her throwing caution to the wind. Caden really shouldn't irritate an angry dog. It never ended well and often times there was blood involved. At least Caden wasn't holding a weapon anymore. Hopefully that would help.

Nesa stepped closer to the two of them. Then Caden spoke of putting on a show and her face lit up. “Oh I would love to put on a show for the winged beast.” She said clapping her hands together. “I haven't had the chance to perform in a long time.” If they put on a show maybe it would make the beast so happy that he would show them the way out. “It would be an honor to perform for you sir.” She said giving him an extravagant bow. “But I have to agree with Caden on moving to another venue. This one is not quite up to par.” She said glancing around. Then looking back on him with a huge smile.

She pranced her way to the front of the group, moving to the rhythm of a song only she could hear. As she skipped and twirled occasionally she caught a glimpse of writing on the wall. “That's curious.” She said walking up to the wall. “Did you write these o great winged beast?” She asked smoothing her hand over the writing. They words weren't very clear, though she was sure they were in the language she knew. She couldn't make intelligible words out of them though. That was until she came up the words in the box. She could make those out pretty well. Though they were aligned very oddly.

"Making end end in nowhere. Go." She read aloud. “Well that's an odd little phrase isn't it?” She said with a laugh. Then the wall started to glow green. “Oh well that's even odder.”

Then voice seeming to come from no where sounded in her head. “ Touch the wall, and you shall be transported out of this place.” She smiled at that. Somehow she knew that when it said you it meant everyone with her. “I found the way out.” She said looking at the group before touching the wall. She felt a tug in her gut and all of a sudden her hand was extended towards a nonexistent wall and she was surrounded by grass facing a glorious lake that took her breath away.

She let out a laugh. “Well that was easy.” She said with a smile. “I have no idea where we are though.” She said staring around curiously, then turning to the group. She saw them laying on the ground and standing and was utterly confused. She looked down at here feet and saw herself laying there seemingly asleep. “Am I dreaming?” She said looking around again. She really hoped she was dreaming, because the only other thing she could think of was that she was dead..

[edit]

[anais nighteyed]

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artwork by Rainxxx

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She swaddled the furs in several sections of white cloth before tying them up with cord. This was done absentmindedly and with little consideration involved; her fingers were nimble, as if she had carried out this chore countless times prior. When she finished her task, she pushed the bundles off to one side. With her hands resting in her lap, the merchant paused for a moment to look over the state of things. The light spilling in through the open door was the only source of illumination, as the lone window was well hidden behind a tall stack of rugs and blankets. There was a humble but neatly kept sleeping pallet tucked away in one corner, sitting on the floor beside it was a small lantern and a portrait depicting a man and a woman in ceremonial garb.

She took in the condition of her wagon’s interior with a faint frown, rubbing her cheek as she supposed there was no need to be embarrassed if someone else were to see it. There was very little dust, but a few grains of sand here and there had managed to work their way inside, though that was to be expected. The clutter was as organized as she could hope to make it. She emptied her pockets of the day’s earnings and deposited them in an earthenware jar. After separating the spare coins from the rest, Kemun eyed them thoughtfully before placing them up on a shelf. She didn’t have a proper use for them yet.

Wondering if her helper had returned, she went to poke her head out of her wagon and was glad to find that Red-eyes had returned with Abel in tow. She wanted to be ready to leave as soon as possible, she assumed he had his own preparations to make and she didn’t want to keep him from them. Stepping outside, Kemun addressed Abel as she approached them. “Good, you’re back.” She looked to her sitting rug, and then she indicated the assortment of rolled up textiles lying there. “I’ll be needing you to carry these to the wagon, and I think I can manage the rest on my own. They shouldn’t give you any trouble. Just place them on the left side, by the door.” She looked to him with a grateful smile. “Again, thank you for the assistance. Do you need any help readying to leave? It’s the least I can do.”

[The Rectumbler]

What was with slaves these days? They used to be so much more with it than they used to be. He'd always been able to find those who knew the basic law of 'if I scratch your back, you scratch mine'. But these three, well, they just didn't seem to get it. It was a shame too, since he would have loved to have played the nice guy for as long as possible, keep the illusion running that he was daft and silly and a wee bit slutty and leave it at that. But sometimes, the mask had to come off, and it appeared now would have to be one of those times. But not for the first girl, no. She had been a little cold, certainly, but she was smart enough to not be rude. She merely suggested he water his magical little pony, which was a good enough idea, and Beck made a mental note to do so. "You should hook that pony to the wagon m'dear and accompany me with these other two ladies who I just need to have a chat with. We'll water the pony...and..." Beck paused, leaning in to whisper in Halima's ear. "Is she shedding leaves? I'm not making this up, right?" He then sat back upright and went on in his normal tone, "But anyway... we'll water this guy, and maybe I can get off him. The only reason I'm even on him is because I broke my leg in Belorner. Sounds like a really bad song...doesn't it? I broke my leg in Bethyrl...My wife was mad but I still mourn 'er...yeah, I'll sell that to the guy with the instrument. Yeah." Mental note, save that for man with lutey mandoliny stringy thing.

Beck pranced about in a neat little circle once more, not 100% sure why he happened to have the dancyest pony around, but he did. Regardless, it seemed to please the girl who was dropping leaves, and she clapped for him like he was a circus act. Oh well, he'd accept it. She was sure ...to be something of interest to some ...camel...or...horticulturist. Yes. A scientist. Or...an herbivore. Someone. Yes. Plus, she seemed to be totally down with coming along with him, while her sulky friend seemed to have something else in mind. She was going to be a problem.

Beck didn't generally like problems because then he had to come up with solutions for them and remedy things. He liked it when things just took care of themselves. Life was so much easier that way. When a problem rose, the mask had to come off, and the flippant airs were cast aside for only a moment. "Look cookie, I understand you don't trust me, and that's fine. For all I know your pores could be clogged with diseases from years working as a harlot whelp, but I'm going to assume you're not going to give me a venereal disease from merely looking at you. I suggest you assume I mean what I say.

"This caravan is run by Rasheik the Bold, and lucky for you, I know the guy. We have a business relationship. And this isn't a holly jolly caravan with song circles and feasting. It's filled with vagabonds, men and women with bounties on their heads and your general lot of backstabbers who want nothing more than to take a pound of your pretty flesh. If you're bright, you'll take up with the pansy man with the busted leg. At least you know that if worse comes to worse you can beat him in a fist fight and run away quicker than he can hobble." One slender eyebrow arched itself, and once more the flippancy returned. "So...I think I have some fancy cups and maybe some tea in my wagon. And pillows. Who cares to join me?"

[H3p4tic4]

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Halima stood straight,holding onto the dark horses reigns, her expression lack luster and somewhat speculative. Halima had never had the gift of reading people but her intuition was that of any other woman's, the pale man on the pony though…He seemed friendly enough. But friendly enough was not the same as safe, just as nice was never the same as good.And this one seemed the type to put those theater divas to shame. It was entirely untrue that men were not great actors. Truth be told she was almost positive that men were much better at acting then women gave them credit for, especially when they were speaking sweet nothing’s to innocent damsels. This specif plot device though was the con of offering unsuspecting ladies a safe ride with the Caravan and it was nothing new or particular threatening,besides Halima had been instructed to accept the offer from any man and or woman who offered their helping hand in this particular Caravan.

Halima turned to look at the cloaked woman when her new “friend” pointed out an aspect of the strange woman that she had not noticed right away. Indeed the woman was…shedding foliage. It was a type of foliage that did not decorate the tall palm trees of the oasis and seemed to be dried and brittle in from the desert heat. Lifting her eyes to the woman, She did not stare at the leafy woman long, but she could help the curious glance.

Even with the strange shedding woman in their company her attention fell back to the young man on the pony when he spoke again. He seemed to like the sound of his own voice though as rambled on, the only thing of real import to Halima was the fact that he rode his pony because of an injury. Well now, there was something she could do.

“ I’m sure it would be no less than a jaunty success for miners and fishers to sing while they toil”She said as she began to tug her equine companion away to do as she was told and have someone tether him to the other spar mounts.

“ I shall hand the stallion over and then when I return I will see what I can do for your leg”Turning her head slight to acknowledge that she would return. Handing the horse over to someone more capable in handling horses, Halima came back amongst them right when they were speaking of The Caravan leader, luckily missing his previous statements on the possible various diseases one of the other girls could have been carrying. Well it seemed going with the man would make her life a lot easier, He knew Rashiek personally!( at least he boasted to) Now was only figuring the amount of information he would leak (if he did)that was valuable.

“ I will join you!”She said after he finished his further ranting, giving only a passing glance to the dark skinned woman his current string of threats and warnings were aimed at.stepping closer to him, she bent to her knees in a clean fluid motion to get a closer look at his leg, pulling nimble fingered hands from the long sleeves of the robe she wore.

“ May I touch you? I need my skin to meet skin to heal your wound ”She said in a matter of fact tone, holding her hands in front of her. Of course healing was not that simple. Stimulation and guiding of energy flow and chakra was needed but she didn’t really need to explain all that.

[Dayum We Roll Hard]

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The Riddle, part 2

The correct solution to the riddle was 'Making ends meet in the middle of nowhere. Go.", but no one would have had the time to puzzle it through before minds poisoned by the popping mushrooms jumped in. However, unfortunately, once the spell was activated, there was no turning back for the fated caravan-goers. Each of them would be engulfed by a green glow that erupted from under them. If lore existed to speak of it, one would hear of the spell's magic to float one upward, to simply move past hard rock and solid mineral beds as if they were lighter than air and even less constrained. Following, the entities would solidify to their original forms once more, living, breathing and whole. The underground river served as the ferry of their energied forms; its source, the grandiose lake of a quiet forest, would be the terminus of their split-second journey.

However, while the majority would be torn across mountains and rivered valleys and clouded skies by the power of the river, those not under its influence could, and would, merely float upward, effectively returning from whence they came: the desert oasis. It was, in a certain sense, a workaround for decayed ladders.

But for each of these tunnel travellers, a glitch would grow to haunt them. At the end of their journies, the spirit and body would cleave into two. The former would never be asleep; the former would never awake. In this perpetual state, the two existences would remain until they were twined once more. This consequence was originally a nasty side effect, but even when it was brought to attention so very long ago that the fate was possibly worse than death itself, the ancients merely shrugged. Whoever was stupid enough to get caught in the trap was more than likely deserving of punishment, they reasoned, and no hands had ever been raised to challenge.

And thus, when the travellers opened their eyes, they would find themselves surrounded, with forest woods to one side and a grand lake to the other. Their bodies would be laying on the floor a short distance from where they stood, still and unmovable by their touch. A worldly hand would be required for any repositioning of their bodies. Lucky for them, there was a settlement nearby, just beyond the borders of the woods. The village could be located with the curls of smoke that rose to the heavens from the preparation of midday meals. Once they arrive at civilization, their next impossible task would be to find someone who wouldn't simply stare right through them...