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449.6 | 2023-01-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nNorthwind\n\nEverything happened all at once. An arrow flew past his ear, whistling through the air before hitting its target, the sound of the impact echoing through the open expanse of the camp. Arin turned, watching as the body fell. Arin grinned, the thrill of battle warming his body. \n\nArin caught the man's initial swing on the cross guard of his sword, rotating his wrist to try and disarm the man, but before he could complete the motion he was stabbed at by the other fighter. A bead of sweat dripped from Arin's forehead as he rotated, the blade barely sliding across his back. It left a thin scratch, and Arin retaliated by kicking at the man, pushing him back before striking at the other man with the butt of his sword. \n\n\"Go kill tha bitch. I'll handle this scrawny bastard.\" The man said as the pair locked blades again. The skinny male smiled, his rotting teeth dark as he looked over at Marsila before rolling out of the way of an arrow before charging her. \n\nArin narrowly ducked the thin blade slicing through the air, the large man aiming at his neck. Arin quickly pivoted on his back foot, before thrusting the blade at the man's open abdomen. The main was quick to dodge, but Arin left a deep gash in the man's side. The man roared, and charged, tackling Arin to the ground. They fought like wild animals, no longer using swords but beat each other with nails and fists\n\nArin kicked out from underneath the man, but the man swung wildly, barely connecting with Arin's jaw. Arin saw stars, but as spit and blood ran down the side of his face he kicked again, and scrambled for his knife, fighting the man off. The man put his hands around Arin's neck, squeezing the life out of Arin.\n\nArin's vision began to darken just as he gripped the leather wrapped handle of the small knife. He drew it and weakly stabbed underneath the man's chin, the sharpened blade easily sliding into the soft meat of the man's neck. Blood dripped onto Arin's face, a red river coursing it's way down Arin's dagger. Arin coughed as the man's grip loosened, and just as Arin was about to give up the man fell, and the blue sky greeted his face. Arin laid there for a moment, regaining his lost breath before forcing himself to sit up and look for Marsila."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila Vema\nNorthwind Cannibal Camp \n\nAs Marsila was approached, the shifter knew it would be futile to attempt another chance at using her bow and arrow when one of the men charged towards her. As he lunged towards her with his sword, slicing through the air horizontally while aiming for her torso, Marsila jumped backwards with her spine rounded to avoid the blade from embedding into her obliques. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as the man's arms rose to swing again. However, the shifter took this opportunity to lunge towards the man before he had the chance to attack. \n\nIt was evident that this man barely knew how to properly handle a sword, or lacked training in doing so with the way he continuously left himself open before each attempt on her life. He had been caught with surprise when the man felt Marsila's shoulder dig into his stomach whilst being thrown back. In a fluid motion, the two slammed into the ground before the shifter took advantage whilst he was momentarily stunned due to the force she applied when connecting her body to his and climbed above his chest. Wasting no time, she ripped the weapon from his hand, raised it above his head and plunged the sword through his skull, entering from his eye socket. The moment he rushed towards her to the moment she plunged his own sword into his cranium was fast paced, almost instant.\n\nRaising her gaze from the deceased man beneath them, she locked her eyes towards the two men who fought barely a couple meters away. She watched as the man strangled Arin and felt herself grow fearful of his potential death and began to rise until he managed to slide a blade upwards, through the bandit's jaw and through the roof of his mouth, the end point landing between his eye sockets from within. Her shoulders dropped with relief as she lowered back down, sitting on her attacker's chest. \n\nWhen Arin looked in her direction, he would notice her staring blankly ahead of her, almost as if she was dissociating once again. That was not the case however as she was using her hearing to listen for any other potential attacks. Instead she heard the light snorting of horses in the distance, just out of their line of sight. \n\nKnowing they were no longer placed in a life-threatening situation, the adrenaline left her body as quickly as it had appeared. Her muscles ached as a pinching pain emerged from her stomach. As she lowered her sight, she saw a thin line of red along the torn material from the initial swing she had attempted to avoid. Marsila raised her shirt to gaze at where the wound would be and found it to be nothing but a simple scratch that continued to heal until there was no evidence she had been injured besides the blood that had seeped from it. Relieved, she looked towards Arin with an exhausted expression. \"Are you alright?\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nNorthwind\n\nArin gave a slight grimace, before rolling over and pushing himself to his feet. He sighed, stretching his arms before wiping his sword on the man's clothes. His muscles screamed in agony; the fight had used much of his strength. He sheathed his sword slowly, the sound of metal against wood ringing as the sword fell into the sheath completely. He glanced down at his dagger, scowling as he gripped the handle. The blade came free with a sickening sound of blade against bone, and Arin watched as blood dripped off of the slender piece of metal. He shook the excess blood off, before cleaning it just as he did the sword. He placed it back into the sheath at his waist, before letting his arms fall to his side as he turned to face Marsila once more. \n\nHer face was covered in blood and grime, and Arin laughed, realizing his own face probably looked the same. He grabbed two handfuls of snow and rubbed it across his face, wincing as the cold substance bit at his skin. He used his sleeve to dry off, before using the flat blade of his dagger to check his work. He repeated the process until he was satisfied, and as he finished he walked over to Marsila and took a seat beside her. \n\n\"Quite.\" He said, his southerner accent seeping into his voice even though he had tried his entire life to break it. He leaned his head onto her shoulder unintentionally for a moment, before sitting up straight and looking over at the edge of the woods. \n\n\"How are you?\" He asked after a moment, glancing at her once he found the courage to speak again. \"I apologize for letting that man get past me. If I had not been so afraid to open my wound again, I would never have made such a mistake.\" He said, touching his side. It had remained closed, a miracle he silently thanked the gods for."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "**Marsila Vema\nNorthwind Camp**\n\n\"Don't\" She began, keeping her eyes locked on him while noticing the obvious fatigue in his features and the way he carried himself to sit beside her. Arin had no reason to apologize to her and she felt a mixture of awe and amusement when he placed the blame on himself which hid the subtle flutter in her stomach when he rested his head against her.\n\n\"You're joking right? You have no reason to be sorry.\" She questioned with a raised brow. Did he really expect himself to be able to stop two of the remaining bandits on his own with the injuries he had sustained from the moment they first ran into them? Perhaps he felt like he was to blame as she was a woman and he felt as though it was his responsibility to protect her.\n\n\"If it helps, I do feel fine. Much better than him in fact\" She commented while looking down towards the man she remained on top of. She was attempting to make light of the situation before exhaling deeply as she pressed her hands onto the corpse's chest to lift herself up onto her feet. She looked down towards Arin whilst contemplating on what they were to do next. \"If you really want to make it up to me, you'll stay here while I grab the horses alright? Then we can leave this bloody place.\" \n\nWithout giving him a chance to argue or disagree, Marsila turned on her heels and began towards the sound of the stallions they rode. Taking a couple steps, she paused momentarily while looking over her shoulder towards Arin to make a comment before continuing. \"I'm serious. Don't move.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nNorthwind\n\n\"Good.\" He said softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he rested his body. \"I just got worried. Do that sometimes..\" He said, a slight chuckle following his words. \n\nArin went to stand up to follow her, before planting himself back on the ground, holding his hands up in a mock surrender. \n\n\"Alright.. Alright. Fine.\" He said, the blood vessels under the skin of his face expanding as a small blush appeared. \"I'll stay here. Just don't take too long or I will have to come after you.\" He said, glancing up at her, squinting as he tried to avoid the bright sun. He watched her walk away, before leaning back onto the soft snow. He stared at the sky, thinking for a moment. A soft breeze settled over the now quiet campsite. For a moment, Arin was at peace again. The pain in his side shook him out of his peaceful state, and Arin couldn't help but laugh. \n\n\"How did I end up here?\" He said out loud, looking up. He shook his head, settling into the snow again as he waited on Marsila. \n\nThe sounds of approaching hoofbeats shook him out of his short rest, and Arin pushed himself up, brushing his shirt and hair clean of the wet snow. As he did, he gestured up at Marsila, before stopping his horse, soothing her by placing his hand on her neck. \n\n\"It's ok, girl. I won't let that happen again.\" He said softly, scratching the horse's neck lightly before climbing into the saddle. He looked over at Marsila, pulling his cloak back around his shoulders as he settled into the saddle. \n\n\"I guess we are one step closer to finishing all of this.\" Arin said, a hint of sadness touching his voice. \"Ready to ride?\""
}
] | 408 | 2,248 |
293 | 2023-02-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis walked over to the front door, peering out the window that was alongside of it. The area was bathed in soft, pale moonlight, though about half of the corral was overshadowed by the deep, dark shadows of the great oak which provided refreshing shade for any animals that were left there in the heat of the day. The sheep weren't laying down and silent, as they should be at this time of night, but rather were stood stalk still, staring silently into the gloom beneath the oak tree. Something was up. It might not be a wolf or anything, since she heard no warning snorts, but something had set the animals on edge.\n\n\"I'll be right back,\" She said as she grasped the staff that had been propped up against the door frame. \"You stay inside.\" \n\nWith that, she quickly ducked outside, staff gripped firmly in hand, prepared to meet whatever ills might beset her flock."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid's blade leered in the moonlight, jutting out from the great oak's shadow like that tree was its wielder. His eyes coldly shifted between the huddled sheep. Most were too plump to steal, others too scrawny, some concealed behind the herd. His gaze came to rest on a subadult - at least, he supposed that to be its age - and it would do well. He calmly strolled forward, prowling with an easy confidence; bobbing at his every step, that shiny steel reflected pale moonlight. So too did it mirror Arvid, shining a dim spotlight onto the cusp of his cheek. He glanced down at it before staring ahead at his bounty. The sheep recoiled like a hive minded mass. Their collective flinched away from him. \n\nThe ewe of his choice cowered in the pen's leftmost corner. One by one, its fellow sheep abandoned its side, intimidated into flight. It pressed its flank into the stall's corner when the gentle moon was eclipsed by a man and his terrible sword. \n\n\"Aren't you a pretty little thing?\" Arvid took his blade's hilt in both hands, raising it above his head. Its tip was steady, unwavering, stark, and true in the night. \"Goodnight, beauty.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nThe sheep were not used to being handled by humans other than Amaryllis and Rosalee, and they barely tolerated the two of them sometimes, so they were already on edge at the presence of a strange human to begin with. Even more so when Arvid began cornering them, a small group of the flock bunching tightly around the ewe he had his eyes on, but slowly, as he pressed closer and closer, scattering off one by one, bolting past him with wide eyes and frightened bleats. \n\nThe final ewe, all alone and trapped, had a wild look in her eye. She ducked her head low, eyeing Arvid wearily as she bobbed from side to side, hooves scuttling on the earth as she attempted to figure out the best route of escape. Then, like a linebacker, she lunged toward Arvid, head tucked and shoulder lowered to plow drive him with everything she had. If she couldn't escape by, she would escape through! \n\nWhat had started as simply unease had turned into an outright ruckus, sending Amaryllis into a dead-on sprint to protect her flock. \n\nAs she approached, she could just make out a figure in the darkness and the glint of something silver in hand. A knife? She couldn't be sure, but she had no time to think! She had to protect her flock!\n\nShe leapt over the top rail of the fence, nightgown and cloak swirling about her, and ran towards the figure shouting, \"Get out of here! Shoo! Git!\" While raising her staff to attack."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nThe sheep secured its fate in a moment of frenzy, scrambling straight to its death, blind with terror. His sword lunged down before sheathing itself in her racing mind. Her little thoughts were muted by a sword driven through her skull like a pike. She dashed her jaw against the packed dirt before growing terribly still. Arvid turned his head to witness a human shape - perhaps a specter, surrounded by a cloak and a ghastly nightgown - rushing towards him. His bicep tensed as he freed his blade from the slayed ewe. Silver, now crimson, raised to threaten the woman's face. He batted her staff away. Slick golden locks were white beneath the moonlight; shadows made a deep scowl of Arvid's boyish features. \n\n\"It's dead already - I'll be taking it now. Unless your life is worth a sheep's, I would suggest you leave me to my work.\" Arvid's voice, despite its youth, was pure ice. It crept into one's ear like a curse. Settled into one's mind like a winter chill over the Witherlands. \n\nUnabashedly, Arvid stepped forward, wagering his steel against her staff's wood. Its tip was aimed for her throat. His gaze wandered along her. \n\n\"Say, this homestead is humble, isn't it? You wouldn't happen to have anything *Valuable,* Would you, farmer? Nothing worth stealing aside from a sheep? It would be an awful shame for me to have to go through your things.\""
}
] | 308.5 | 1,172 |
250.923077 | 2023-02-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis' blood boiled at the sight of her slaughtered yearling. The poor creature laid with its nose buried in the earth, tongue lolled out and eyes wide open and glassy as blood pooled dark and black around it. Such a horrible death for the poor creature, and more importantly, a major loss of profit! That was to be the new generation—the foundation of her growing enterprise!\n\nShe scowled at Arvid, staff gripped tightly in her hand as she growled, \"Get off my land, or by the gods I will strike you down. There is nothing for you here—not even that sheep.\" \n\nUnfortunately, this was not the first time she was standing at the receiving end of a blade, nor would it probably be her last. Thankfully, she had gained some experience in self-defense in her travels and was no longer entirely the helpless shepherdess she had been when she last faced off against someone over her flock. *Damn shifter anyhow*\n\nThe only bad thing was that she was at somewhat of a disadvantage, having come out here in her nightclothes and barefoot. Nevertheless, she was intent on defending herself and her property."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid narrowed his eyes as she remained defiant, steadfast in her resistance, her cloak billowing in the sharp breeze that had stirred. So they were still, locked in their positions. Like dogs in the street, tails rigid, hackles bristling, waiting with snarls for the other to act first. The shepherdess spoke; a dog had opened its jaws. In one motion, he stepped forward, and his sword followed suit. Arvid's blade pricked a pinhole into her throat - a mild, if not stinging injury - and that cold steel corked the wound, preventing it from leaking. \n\n\"You aren't in any position to be making demands,\" He cooly reminded her, tone nonchalant, \"You've got your stick, your slip, your bare feet, and a sword at your throat.\" Arvid's gaze suddenly hardened. His voice grew cruel, his intentions unmistakable, and his frown deepened. \"I'll kill your entire fucking flock. You can watch too, if you like. Answer me. What do you have that's worth stealing?\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nShe was tempted to lash out, to flail at him with her staff and clobber him over the head with it. She could probably get a good clock in alongside the head... But the risk was too great, with the blade at her throat. She couldn't leave Rosalee an orphan.\n\nHer eyes flicked back towards the cabin for a moment at the thought of Rosalee, then back to Arvid, quickly turning back into a glare. Sometimes the best defense was playing it cool and letting them think they had completely bested you. When their guard was down a little, then you could regain the upperhand. \n\n\"Nothing,\" She hissed. \"That sheep was one of the most valuable things here.\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid's gaze followed hers to her home, albeit in a predatory manner. His trailed Amaryllis' like a wolf followed a caribou's tracks, knowing her subconscious sought to guard its goods - it was instinctual, the fear of losing one's valuables. Had she thrown her attentions to the cabin in a ploy, or did they escape there, considering the chance of Arvid merely passing her by? Did the poor shepherdess think that she could preserve her sheep, her belongings, and herself? It was a mighty task. Arvid hummed as he considered those things. Then, he spoke.\n\n\"Then you shouldn't mind me checking. Lay down on the ground.\" Arvid commanded, pressing his blade into her flesh. \"Lay that staff down, too. Let go.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis winced slightly as the blade dug deeper into her flesh, biting deeply enough to draw a bit of blood that slowly slipped down her neck. \n\n\"There's nothing there!\" She insisted again, though when his blade only dug deeper in response, she let go of the staff, letting it fall to the earth with a soft thud, sending nearby sheep scattering. The animals, already driven to a frenzy by the heavy stench of blood and the slaughter of one of their own, were more skittish than ever. \n\nHe wouldn't harm Rosalee, would he? He would have no use for a child! Surely! The thought of the child's safety preoccupied her mind more than thought of valuables—more than thought for herself. \n\nSlowly she knelt down, and when he pulled the blade away just enough, she laid face down on the earth, the thick scent of the soft, upturned dirt mixed with lanolin and manure and other various wastes filling her nose. Once more her eyes flicked to the cabin, where she saw the curtains move."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid took a deep breath, which tasted of earth, metal, and fear. As soon as Amaryllis surrendered her staff, his foot shot out to kick it across the pen. Momentarily, his sword was not posted at her neck. As if to predict a resistance - one that did not come - his blade lunged towards her sinking form. Inches separated it from her scalp. He relished in the outright control; still, she moved to grovel. With her home and her livelihood balanced on his sword's tip, she knelt, forfeiting herself for the sake of it all. An honorable thing, he thought, down on its luck. How unfortunate for the poor soul, to be struck by a robber in the dead of night. Pity. What obedience, too. Arvid thought for a moment that the sweet shepherdess could have made a good wife. Not for him, but some righteous man. These thoughts culminated in an action: with Amaryllis before him, lowering herself to the dirt, he swiftly jabbed her breastbone with his boot. A blow that would burgle her coming breath. \n\n\"I'll be back for you. Stay.\" Arvid trotted to her staff, bending down to retrieve it before moving towards the cabin's entrance. \n\nArvid stood before her door. He examined her staff, assessing its weight in his grip. It was an unwieldy thing - a piss poor thing to pit against his steel - nothing worth keeping. Like one would launch a javelin, he tossed it into the nearby woods. Twigs groaned and snapped distantly as it found a resting place in that wilderness."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis doubled up in pain, desperately gasping for air that seemed to stubbornly resist her, and watched Arvid stalk to the cabin. *Please, please, hide* She thought frantically, terrified for Rosalee. *Please let her be safe.* With a trembling, contorted body, she started to try to drag herself over to the edge of the pen, hopeful that her breath would return to her and she could run to get Rosalee, if need be. At least try to defend her!\n\nRosalee had been peering out from behind the curtains and had witnessed the whole scene, watching in horror as Amaryllis had been held at knife point and struck. As the strange man turned and started for the cabin, pure, cold terror gripped her. What was he coming for? Would he hurt her? Would he kill her like those bad men had killed her parents? \n\nShe scurried away from the window, the pale curtains fluttering like ghosts, and dove under the bed, hoping that he would never look under there and that the blankets that hung down off of it would help hide her. Her heart thundered so loud in her chest that she could have sworn that he would hear it, blood rushing through her ears from pure adrenaline. \n\nThe door opened, creaking loud and long, followed by the thud of boots walking around inside. She clasped her hand over her mouth, desperate to not let out even the slightest of sound. She scarcely breathed!"
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid's entrance was announced by the door creaking, protesting his very presence, and the floors followed suit. Floorboards groaned with the burden of his presence. Every step was announced with a creaky protest. The door was left ajar. Clouds swirled and shrouded the moon's silver light. Total darkness. A pervasive, suffocating thing. It filled the mouth and flooded the senses, suffocating delicate human senses; darkness, stillness, sent a mind to war with itself. Floorboards warned little Rosalee of danger like sheep crying to their flock. A footstep. Another. Until they were crashing into one another, step after step, echoing in the house. \n\nArvid idly searched through what belongings were laid throughout the house. His sword's tip nosed through sacks and lifted lids. His hands tinkered with locks, knobs, glasses, intimate possessions that were not their own. Alien surfaces and textures. Adrenaline spiked his senses - everything was so novel - his actions were deeply forbidden. There he was, in someone's parlor, inspecting the details of their life. He was mad with curiosity and delight. Feet rapidly pranced this way and that, and fingers merrily explored a whole homestead of new sensations. Arvid whistled out a tune of his own creation, a chipper melody, tapping his foot and rifling through a shelf near the hiding child."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nRosalee laid there beneath the bed, heart thundering and hand clasped tightly over her mouth. It wasn't like she could make a sound anyway—try as she might. She had tried to talk to Amaryllis before, but it wasn't like her voice was imprisoned somewhere within her. She wanted to talk! Desperately so! She just... Couldn't. \n\nShe peered out from her hiding place, watching the pair of boots tromp around the house as Arvid snooped through their things. There really wasn't much in the way of valuables. Food, a few small pieces of jewelry, various knickknacks, and some coins hidden beneath the mattress. The majority of Amary's savings, however, was hidden beneath the floorboards. \n\nThe tune, while chipper in nature, was enough to send chills through Rosalee. This man was not only here to rob them, but was enjoying it too! Her eyes slid to the still-ajar door, then back to the boots, debating whether she could get out from her hiding place fast enough and make a sprint for the door. No, he was too close at the moment. Perhaps if he moved over to the other side of the cabin, with his back to her, then she could slip out from under the bed and make a run for it."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid pocketed the jewels and ate of the food, biting into bread with one hand whilst sifting through the drawers. He set it aside, half enjoyed and shedding crumbs, on the cabinet. He dusted his hands off before continuing his search. His boots bared their heels to the girl, and they began to cross the cabin's floor. His sword, sheathed in the boyish delight of his search, was once again drawn. His whistling turned to humming, humming to a shuffling of his feet. Arvid's boots began gingerly stepping onto the various boards, feeling a change in their uniformity. He prodded the floor in this way. Eventually, moving feet became a sword tapping the wood: the sharp, staccato *Thump* Of steel striking a hard surface. Percussive and cold.\n\nThere was a narrow window, in the mind of a child, to flee. Though his reach was great, and his intentions were wicked, Arvid was turned. Occupied. Maybe she could slip between him and the wall. Maybe his sword would catch her throat. It tapped the floor. Wood groaned as Arvid's weight shifted."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford \nRural Northwind\n\nThe child stared at the boots, far enough away from her now and pointed in the opposite direction. He seemed to be preoccupied, tapping on the floorboards and searching for something. Rosalee really didn't know what he expected to find! As far as she knew, Amary didn't have anything of real value! But maybe this would buy her the time she needed to escape.\n\nSlowly, carefully, the child crawled out from under the bed, moving silently so as to not draw attention to herself. Then, once fully out from under it and standing upright, she made a break for it, springing across the one-room house and making a desperate dive for the door. It was as if the rest of the world melted away, her one and only focus zeroing in on the door. On freedom."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid stilled as his skin prickled, telling of a movement in the house. He was unsure of its source, but the floors sighed, betraying all who trusted the wood with their weight. Then, the skittering of small feet, like an overgrown rodent. Arvid's blade snapped out, its cutting edge turned to the ceiling - the child was intercepted by its flat side. Cold eyes blazed with some unrecognizable emotion. Perhaps a volcanic frustration. Perhaps a childish mirth. It was difficult to discern. Rosalee was given a glimpse of him: well groomed, blonde, fair skinned and frosty-eyed. Nothing that fit the bill of the bandits of rumor. Bandits were filthy, rugged man-beasts. \n\nShe was given a moment to consider him before his blade - still pacified - batted her onto her rear. Arvid glanced towards the door. Then, he speared the child with his eyes. \n\n\"You must be scared.\" Arvid kneeled, keeping the cabin's entry in his peripheral vision. \"You'll be okay. Just tell me where mommy keeps her coins.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nThe child fell to the floor with a harsh thud, staring at Arvid with wide, frightened eyes. Eyes much like the sheep that now lay dead outside. Golden in color, big and round with terror, they darted from Arvid, to the door, and back to Arvid once again as he started to kneel down to look her in the eyes. Fear gripped her, and Rosalee skittered backwards away from him using her hands and feet.\n\nBut there really was no where to go, and she didn't get far before her back bumped into the rough wood and mud wall. She was trapped, her back quite literally to the wall, and with her only escape route blocked off by Arvid. \n\nHer breath came rapid and ragged, gasps that bordered somewhere between sobs and outright hyperventilation. She wanted to scream! To beg Amary to come rescue her! To tell the bad man to leave her and Amary alone! Anything! Instead, all she could do was quiver like a mouse trapped by a cat! Silent and helpless.\n\nBut even if she could speak, she couldn't have given him what he wanted. She didn't know where Amary kept any coins!"
}
] | 249 | 3,262 |
298.705882 | 2023-02-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid had no response to her horror, spilled across her face with her tears, only a flat, steady stare. He looked to the door once more before stepping towards the girl - an awkward, loping prowl - his sword scraping the wood. His demeanor was rigid, alien, like he could not formulate an emotional response. \n\n\"Don't cry,\" He comforted, \"I won't hurt you. Don't be silly. I just want to know where the gold is. I don't want anything with you.\" Yet, as those words cleared his lips, he knew they were a farce.\n\nArvid reckoned that the girl would fit nicely upon a horse's rump, so long as she was properly secured. Unlike that ill-fated sheep, she could be preserved indefinitely, fattened, and... Well, Arvid supposed, the rest need not be considered. He could rob the shepherdess of her girl or her livestock; Arvid could not carry both. He extended a hand.\n\n\"You can show me where it is, if that's easier.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nRosalee cowered away from Arvid's outstretched hand, sniffling and sobbing softly as she shook her head. There wasn't any gold! They weren't rich! If Amary kept any, it wasn't anywhere she knew! She couldn't help the bad man. Yet the very fact that she couldn't, nor could she tell him as much, filled her with that much more dread and fear. He was going to hurt her! He was going to hurt her because she didn't know where the gold was!\n\nThat thought sent a fresh bolt of adrenaline through her and the child lunged for the door again, leaping to her little bare feet and desperately making a beeline for it. Yet once more she was thwarted, this time by Arvid simply grabbing her by the back of her nightshirt as one might grab the back of the neck of an errant kitten. \n\nOutside, Amary was still struggling to breathe, but pushed herself up off the earth in desperation to help Rosalee. She had never seen the child come out of the cabin, and there had been enough ruckus inside that she was almost certain that the child had been found. Slowly, she crawled through the rail fence and walked towards the cabin, still gasping for air and clutching her injured side."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid lifted the girl by her scruff, and the corner of his lip twitched irately. His sword slammed into the wood, and its polite, rhythmic taps became history. This was not a playful click, but a deliberate and terrifying stab to the floor. \n\n\"Fucking bitch,\" He hissed in her face - and their proximity gave way to a heavy metallic odor, replacing an earthy musk, \"Crying won't help you. *Nothing* Will help you. All of *This*,\" He shook her, apparently referring to her panicked state, \"Isn't good enough.\" \n\nWielding his sword in his left hand and a child in his right, Arvid heaved Rosalee over his shoulder. Her weight was unsurprisingly minimal, his strength unexpectedly robust. A firm grip fixed her to him; agitated, he started towards the door."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nNorthwind \n\nThe sound of the horse making its way along the wooded path was the only thing breaking the silence between the pair. Arin nibbled on a piece of jerky, trying to keep his mind off of the events that had transpired that day. He had not spoken to Marsila since they left the camp, and he glanced up at the sky. \n\n*About four hours.* That's how long Arin assumed had passed since they had left the corpse-ridden camp. Arin took a deep breath, rubbing the mare's muscular neck before adjusting the straps holding the saddle in place. \n\n\"Are you feeling ok?\" His voice sounded strange, invading its way into the quiet forest. He had asked the question almost instinctively, having pondered that very thought for almost an hour. He had heard her screams as her body had morphed, but had kept silent throughout the entire ride. \n\nHe listened to her response as he rode, watching as a deer crept its way through the dense brush. He smiled softly as a small fawn bounced up behind its mother. He watched the pair for a moment, before they disappeared from his view. \n\nArin watched the path ahead for a moment, disappearing deep into the recesses of his mind. His childhood was a blur to him, but in this moment he could remember one memory.\n\n*A young man, resembling Arin but his features were changed.. Not quite his own. Arin watched as the man smiled and waved at him. Arin smiled and waved back.*\n\nA memory began to form as Arin sat, blood dripping off of his twitching fingers. He took slow breaths, barely awake as he struggled to maintain consciousness. He closed his eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. \n\n*\"Arin!\" A booming voice shook him awake. Arin was resting against the railing of the ship. He stood up slowly, wiping the sea spray off of his face. He frowned, and glanced up, the sun hiding the face of the man talking to him. \n\n\"Come on! I was almost asleep.\" Arin said, shielding his eyes and grinning. \n\n\"No time for sleep, brother. Maith's men have been prowling the edges of our territory. What good would you be if they killed you in your sleep, eh? The least you can do is die standing.\" The other man said, walking towards Arin and placing a hand on his shoulder as he walked past. \n\n\"I'm joking, little brother. Don't be so serious.\" The other man said, as Arin frowned. \n\n\"I'm as old as you are-\" Arin started, before being interrupted.\n\n\"But I was born first, therefore I'm the older brother.\" The other man said, walking out of Arin's vision. The world around Arin blurred as things began happening quickly. Men began scurrying about, tightening sails, brushing rails, and doing other various tasks they were assigned.*\n\n*\"SHIPS! ATTACK!\" Words began to interrupt everyone's calm. Arin dropped the brush he was holding, glancing around frantically. His eyes noticed five ships, all bearing the mark of Bradai Maíth. Arin's eyes widened as he turned and ran towards the small corner room he called home. He grabbed his sword and ran back outside. Men yelled, ordering each other around. The captain of the ship had already jumped ship, afraid to die. \n\n\"Together men! We can hold but we must turn and run. No use dying here and now!\" Arin jumped up to grab the wheel of the ship, spinning it to turn the ship away from the oncoming ships. \n\n\"Why should any of us listen to you?\" Another man spoke up, looking up at Arin. \n\n\"Because I'm the only man here who has any sort of self-preservation... Obviously. Now get to the sails and open them fully. NOW!\" Arin yelled, as his brother emerged from below deck. \n\n\"Glad to see we have such a brave captain leading us\" Herin said, looking at their former captain, swimming towards shore. \"You heard the man! Get those sails up!\" Herin yelled to the men, before turning to his brother. \"I hope you know what you're doing, because if I die here, I'm haunting you for eternity.\"\n\n\"Of course I don't. But remember, our mother always told us our father's blood ran through our veins. Let's hope it gives us a bit of luck today.\" Arin said as the wind began to fill the sails, giving the ship a bit of speed as Arin held tightly to the wheel.*\n\n*A single arrow pierced the biggest sail, and Arin swore loudly. They weren't fast enough. Arin knew they wouldn't be able to outrun Bradai's men, but he was hoping he would have been able to make it farther than they were. \n\n\"Ready your weapons men! We ain't leaving here without a fight!\" Arin said as the ship's began catching up. A rope with a large hook attached to it caught on to their ship, then another and another. Arin quickly scrambled to try to unhook them, but an arrow embedded itself into the floor between his feet. He glanced up, and the eyes of a demon met him.*\n\nAs Arin slowly came back to reality, he was looking at Marsila, and he sighed softly, the memory fading from his mind. He could no longer recall what it was, only that he was missing something he could never remember having. \n\n\"I am sorry. What were you saying?\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nThe breath was knocked out of Rosalee for a moment as Arvid tossed her over his shoulder, smacking her stomach against it, but it wasn't like she could have screamed even if she had had the air to do so. She gasped like a fish out of water for a few seconds, but all at once the air came rushing back into her lungs and she began to battle like she had never before. She didn't really know what he intended to do with her. All she knew was that he seemed to be taking her away from here, and she couldn't let that happen! If she left here...\n\nShe was driven by blind panic, kicking and beating on his back with her tiny fists, flailing and contorting her body in any way she could come up with to try to get him to let her go, even if it meant dropping her. She kicked, she clawed, she bit. It was like he had just grabbed a little wild animal. \n\nAmaryllis, outside, retrieved the axe from the cutting block outside and stood outside the door, waiting and listening. Her side still ached, but she sucked it up enough to grip the axe with both hands and heave it over her shoulder, prepared to drive it downwards in one fell swoop and blast it through the robber's skull the moment he stepped outside."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nRosalee squirmed and writhed against him, yet Arvid remained slate-faced, dull to the child's thrashing. Her fists were walnut-sized, horrifically useless as they squarely struck his shoulder blade. Hit, hit, hit - it was as though Arvid could not sense her at all. Like she was a diminutive sack of potatoes to be hauled. When she threatened to upset her balance upon him, his hand would bite her scruff and reposition her. Her teeth sunk into his forearm. Arvid, unflinching, forced his arm further into her maw, eventually prying it open; unless the girl fancied suffocating in his grasps, she would release him. \n\nHe passed through the threshold of the door. Rosalee was stationed on his shoulder - the one facing Amaryllis and her waiting axe. Arvid turned to see where the shepherdess had scurried off to."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nThe child winced as he drove his arm further into her mouth, forcing it open enough that she could no longer bite down and making it hard to breathe. As he had intended, Rosalee stopped biting down and yanked her head to the side to get his arm out of her mouth. Yet that was not to say that all the fight went out of her, as she continued to smack at him and kick and claw.\n\nAmaryllis' heart fell to her stomach as the two of them came out the front door, horror gripping her. He had Rosalee! He was going to take her! Yet she had no clear aim to strike him with the axe, since Rosalee was in the way! She pressed herself against the wall, hoping he would not notice her and would pass by enough that she could get a strike at him from behind."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid paused as he saw the pen to be empty, lacking its shepherdess. Her conviction had been so strong, she was bound to that house and its flock, even if it meant her own life. No, those things *Were* Her life - one such thing was squirming on his shoulder. To lose them would be to lose everything, to be a vagrant in the hungry winter. Bemusement gave way to suspicion; Arvid raised his sword. Rosalee thrashed. Arvid lifted his shoulder before dropping it. He turned his head to chastise the girl.\n\n\"Quit fucking -\" His eyes met Amaryllis', and his pupils shrunk to pinholes, \"*Ah.*\" In a flash, he lifted his sword across his body, predicting a swing of the woman's axe."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\n*Dammit.* She held the axe up and swung bodily at the sword, her abdomen screaming protests at this sudden, forceful movement after such a recent injury. If she could only use the axe to knock the blade from his hand, it would put them on a more even playing field. And, perhaps with a madwoman swinging at him with an axe, he would drop Rosalee and she could escape.\n\nShe aimed for the lower portion of the blade, just above the hilt that protected his hand, hoping the concentrated force would knock if loose. As the two connected, she drove forward, the adrenaline coursing through her veins providing the strength she needed to overcome her own pain to protect her home and, most importantly, Rosalee. \n\nRosalee, meanwhile, took the opportunity to reach back with the hand closest to him and grapple at his face, doing her best to drive her little fingers into his eyeballs, or at least make it harder for him to see what he was doing!"
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid recognized the folly of contesting an axe's mighty swing with his slender sword's edge. When the axe struck, his knuckles were bleached with his grip's stubborn force; he allowed his arm to fall, leaving his blade low and his body unguarded. He surrendered his territory by just one step, reeling backwards. Still, Amaryllis was vulnerable. She had committed herself, her momentum, to the force of her strike. Now, at its resolution - an axe head stuck in hard-packed earth - Amaryllis was forced to grapple with its weight. Arvid was ready for another blow. He raised his foot to manage a glancing kick to her side. Its force was diverted as little fingers crawled into Arvid's sights. The intrusion was unexpected - it served to fuel a slowly boiling agitation. \n\nGrunting with frustration, Arvid threw his head to the side, away from those reaching paws. He blindly swung his sword in Amaryllis' direction, swooping where he though her abdomen to be. Meanwhile, he occupied himself with Rosalee. He raised his jaw. Then, his teeth clamped down on her dainty hand. Young bones bowed beneath a vice of a bite. With the girl's hand as his bridle, Arvid readied his sword and gazed down at the shepherdess."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford \nRural Northwind\n\nShe managed to avoid getting struck by the blade of Arvid's sword, but it was a close call. The blade had swung close enough that she could hear the wind whistle by! Yet, as close as it had been, it was not enough to deter her—not when Rosalee's very life might be on the line. With a great heave, she plucked the head of the axe from the earth just as she plucked it from the chopping block, then held it across her body to use as a modicum of defense, and also a battering ram. She rushed at him, arms slightly with one hand at the end of the axe handle and the other at the base of the head, aiming for his diaphragm, but also prepared to attempt to catch his blade in the thick wood of the handle. With any luck, it would stick!\n\nRosalee, meanwhile, howled in agony. Or, rather, her face and mouth contorted into a howl and breath rushed over her vocal chords, but no sound came. She writhed and screamed, pain radiating like fire through her little hand, and contorted herself so that she was now sideways on his shoulder, facing him, so that she could use her right hand to claw at his face and attempt to pry his jaws from her hand."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid, preoccupied with the wily child and her furious mother, could not evade the axe's ramming. It crashed into his flank - he turned enough to guard his ribcage - with a bruising force. Yet, he did not stumble in the throes of agony. His heels carved gouges into the dirt as he merely withstood the staggering strike. The agony one would expect of such a blow never came; unyielding, he stared at Amaryllis over the back of her orphan. He twisted his body to face the shepherd, unbothered by the iron grinding into his anatomy.\n\nTwo actions occurred in tandem. His right hand clamped down on Rosalee's face, fingers pressing pits into her skull, threatening to crush her cranium. Her nose was crumpled against his palm, her mouth forced against its heel. His left hand swung its blade haphazardly, slicing the arm Amaryllis had used to stabilize the axe's head. He cleaved once and withdrew, though his blade was thirsty yet - a twin blow followed his first cut, seeking to deepen it."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nSomething about the way those cold eyes gazed at her over top of the writhing, clawing child sent a chill through Amaryllis. There was something so evil, and yet so unfeeling. The eyes of a man that was unphased by even the most powerful blows she could muster. She had little time to dwell on the feeling, however, before the blade sliced through the hem of her robe and nightgown, a thin line of blood staining the pale fabric of the gown almost immediately. \n\nShe winced and recoiled, but not fast enough, as the sword swept forward once more and sliced deeper this time, separating flesh from bone. She screamed, stumbling backwards as her left hand released its grip on the axe to pull backwards and tuck itself away towards the safety of the rest of her body. Her right hand, however, still managed to keep its grip, some primal part of her keenly aware of the fact that letting go would be a death sentence. \n\n\"Let her go!\" She shrieked, swinging the axe up over her head with her good arm. It was more unwieldy and less effective with just the one arm, but she could still manage to swing the axe and put up a fight. And she would put up a fight until her dying breath, to save Rosalee!"
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nAs soon as Amaryllis' arm shrunk away from his blade, a decision was placed before him. He could slay that common woman, leave her to be found by the next sorry passerby. Arvid could sift through the exciting and foreign landscape of her home. Arvid could escape then, could leave the shepherdess to her flock and its deceased. He could mark his presence in her mind, or split it in two. The notion of a continued control - the anguish of a child stolen, the fear of every passing shadow - excited him more. Where Amaryllis was electrified with adrenaline, a genuine fear of losing her life, Arvid was slipping through a routine. He glanced up. He knew her surviving arm would quiver as she lifted the axe, and it did. He knew she would swing it down on his head. He knew her heart was beating a frenzy behind her ribs, shaking those bones as if it meant to escape. He knew she acted in outright terror.\n\n\"Swing, then.\" Arvid commanded.\n\nLifting Rosalee by her face, Arvid presented the girl as a hunter would a hare. With the writhing bundle as his shield, he stepped forward. His sword swiped downward at her exposed leg, aimed like he meant to divorce her calf from her thigh. Just as Rosalee's thrashing became too much to bear, he retreated from the range of her axe. She was returned to his shoulder. Rosalee morphed into a shield before returning to a burden, mere deadweight upon Arvid."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nThe child wriggled and squirmed like a worm that had painfully been skewered on a hook as he held her out to Amaryllis, who of course, could not take the bait without risking injury to Rosalee. It was an action that threw her off-guard, and so she was unprepared as Arvid fought dirty and took a swing at her legs. By the time she saw the flash of silver in her periphery, she had only a second to try to dodge, but it was largely too late. The blade bit deep into her flesh and she screamed, knees buckling and stars blurring her vision from the sheer pain. The only thing that saved her from fully having the calf divorced from her thigh was the flowiness of her clothes, which kept Arvid from fully being able to gauge where to aim. \n\nHot tears blurred her vision as she looked up at the monster before her, who clutched Rosalee on his shoulder once more, despite Amaryllis' best efforts to free the child. The sight of Rosalee still wriggling and writhing, despite being quite battered herself, broke Amaryllis' heart, yet at the same time, it gave her the strength to stand once more. She wobbled dangerously, blood pooling at her feet, and yet she stood.\n\n\"Let her go,\" She said again. \"Take anything else, but let her go.\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid was well out of reach of her axe, and its bleary-eyed, wobbling wielder was in no condition to pursue him. Beneath the fickle moonlight, Amaryllis' blood seemed like ink; it seemed like make-believe, that their confrontation was a charade. Arvid took another step backwards. The gold and the riches and the bounty seemed a fantasy. Right there, caught in his clutches, was a promising reality: a winter survived, a meal sustained through many days. This meant more than gold. This meant more than fantasy. Arvid flicked a number of dark droplets from his blade, watering the farmland, raining upon the parched earth. \n\n\"No. I won, fair and square.\" Arvid stared at Amaryllis through his brow. \"This is what I want now.\" \n\nHe took more steps backwards."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis fought back the rising panic at those dreadful words: \"This is what I want now.\" Rosalee began to panic more, thrashing and kicking harder than ever, but the poor child's fighting gained her nothing. How hopeless it all seemed...\n\nAmary shook her head, following him with a lilting stride, her left leg dragging a bit behind the right. She still had the axe gripped in her good hand, but she was using it more as a crutch as she advanced forward, stubbornly protesting for Rosalee's freedom. \n\n\"No, she's not,\" She replied, her voice more begging now than demanding. \"What could you do with a child? She'd just be another mouth to feed—and you couldn't even feed yourself! That's why you came here, isn't it? To have a sheep to feast on? Please, just give her back to me. I'll give you anything. You can have whatever you want. Just please, give her back!"
}
] | 242 | 5,078 |
300.2 | 2023-02-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\n\"Exactly the point,\" Amaryllis shot back. \"She weighs a little bit of nothing and would gain you nothing. A sheep would feed you for days. Weeks, even. Besides, you're not going to eat a child. It's just going to be another mouth to feed until you manage to sell her or something. Just give her back, and you can have the sheep and anything else you want. Just not her!\"\n\nPoor Amaryllis! How naive she was; oblivious to the fact that this madman intended to eat Rosalee. Instead, she assumed that he intended to take the child and sell her into slavery somewhere, or perhaps indentured servitude, or at best, sell her to some couple that desperately wanted a child of their own. The last one, however, she was quite sure would never happen. \n\n\"No one would want to buy her anyway,\" She continued, still hobbling after him, leaving a thick, black trail of blood behind her. It was getting harder and harder to move, the darkness threatening to consume her. \"She's a mute.\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nFor a time, it seemed Arvid was fighting a humorous grin. His lip would quirk upward before being reigned in to that neutral, thin line frown. Then, his smile would itch. Eventually, as she declared that he would not consume Rosalee, his restraint buckled. Cold laughter echoed from his hollow chest. It was condescending, spiteful, the laugh of a man who knew more than poor, sweet Amaryllis. Like he was partaking in a joke she had no stake in. Arvid carried on; his sword did not falter in its threat. It remained pointed at Amaryllis, even as its wielder guffawed, its tip lightly bouncing in time with his laughs.\n\n\"Poor, poor girl. The money doesn't interest me.\" Arvid managed after some time, treading backwards as he had before. \"*This* Can feed me for months.\" \n\nFor the first time in their encounter, he smiled. It was maniacal. Inappropriate. The corners of his mouth were pinned to his cheeks unnaturally, like he was imitating what a smile ought to be. Chilling, especially when its glee did not reach his eyes."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Lord Albert Rhoderick\nNorthwind Council\n\nRhoderick rather hoped that, in all the hubbub, no one would consider the fact that he had met Levi before and should have known-and pointed out-that Malachi was not, in fact, who he claimed to be. Of course, he had little faith in the other members of the council and seriously doubted they would ever come to that realization, but it would be... A nuisance, shall we say, if one of them did. \n\nRegardless, he took the sudden change of circumstances in stride, which really could not be said for the other members of the council. They bickered and fought, arguing with Levi and each other, but mostly they shouted at Levi and Malachi, furious that their council had been defiled by an uninvited outsider. It was only when Levi towered over Lord Kalheim threateningly that they fell to silence. None of them had the courage to take on a man such as Levi, for all their talk. They sat in sullen silence, glowering at Rhoderick, Levi, and Malachi as they spoke amongst themselves.\n\nDisgracing Lady Reagan? Playing mind games? Sinking his fangs deeper into the very heart of Northwind? His lip curled in a smug sneer as he nodded and replied, \"Convincing them that a hormonal female isn't fit to lead? That should easy enough.\" He chuckled. \"Rian should easily see that she was a feeble minded woman that was just easily persuaded, blind to the way that the Koerns have used their house, if he's half the man I think he is. When we talk man to man, he'll see that he needs to take back their house and oust Cyprien.\"\n\nAmaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nA cold chill gripped her heart and a wave of nausea washed over her, though she wasn't entirely sure if it was the blood loss or the horrifying realization that this monster intended to take Rosalee and eat her. Probably a combination of both. This whole time, she had thought he intended to kidnap and sell Rosalee; it had never occurred to her that he would want to feast on the child. How could she ever convince him to give her back? Reasoning with a monster seemed futile. \n\nYet she had to try. \n\n\"Please,\" She pleaded, moving a little faster and with more urgency. \"I have a little money that I can give you instead! You can feed yourself well for months! Buy whatever you want! It'd be better a bony, scrawny child! And the sheep! You can have the sheep! Or I'll go with you instead of her! Please, anything else, just don't hurt her!\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid cocked his head inquisitively as Amaryllis spoke.\n\n\"Oh, that's strange. I remember somebody saying that this cabin didn't have anything valuable. Nothing at all, that's what she said.\" His eyes were lidded, expression portraying something like a mockery, \"My daddy told me not to trust a liar's word.\"\n\nHe supposed she was not unlike an animal thoroughly pinned in a corner, hissing and raising her hackles. The bristle and the grit and the up-and-down swears were distinctly human, primitive at that. Amaryllis had threatened him until she was relinquished to bargaining - then, her true nature bled out, following her blood in a heated race across her skin. What good were anybody's words in a state like that? What were promises heaved from between the lips of the dying? Empty, terribly hollow. Arvid turned his eyes to the moon. Pleas were made with the night air, for Arvid did not hear them."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmary grimaced as he mocked her, pointing out her lie from earlier. Of course, even her savings were meager, but she would give anything at all now. No fighting. No argument. As long as he returned Rosalee, there would be no further resistance.\n\n\"Please,\" She whispered, her voice cracking. \"I'll give you *Anything*, anything at all.\" She stopped following him, pausing, before turning so that she was partially facing him and partially facing the cabin, then dropped the axe. It fell to the earth with a hard thud that seemed to break the night. Maybe it was foolhardy, but she had to hope that, disarmed, perhaps he would hear her out. \n\n\"If you'll just come back and let her Rosalee go, I'll get you a warm meal, show you where I keep our savings, give you the sheep, and... See to any needs you might have. Please, you really don't need the girl.\""
}
] | 236 | 1,501 |
223.5 | 2023-02-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid was indifferent to her sorrow and numb to her despair. His gaze followed the axe, lingering on it, even as Amaryllis pleaded for her orphan's custody. His face then reflected genuine thought - like her words had finally evoked consideration from the beast. Arvid's teeth gnawed at his soft lower lip. He cared not for gold; gold offered him nothing his hand could not gather. He considered the flock briefly, but the child seemed a more appetizing bounty, like a precious lamb and its prized veal. Of course, Arvid knew he would not return to these grounds. Never again would the little shepherdess plead her case before him. It would be a crime beyond foolishness for him to believe her hollow assurances: food! Gold! Return, and I will reward you for burgling my cabin!\n\nArvid's pointed stare flicked back onto Amaryllis; he donned a fanciful new mask.\n\n\"Give me your arm,\" He requested gently - relatively speaking - with a handsome, subtle grin, \"Your arm and your leg. Skin for skin.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis' face paled another shade, though already she had looked like a ghost from all the blood loss. A fresh wave of nausea and fear at the horrible realization that she was going to die, as she obviously wouldn't be able to survive such an event, especially after already losing so much blood. But Rosalee might get to live...\n\nShe wavered, hesitating, fear and a vague sense of self-preservation threatening to overtake her. Why do all this for a child that wasn't hers? Not biologically speaking, anyway. What kind of live would Rosalee have if she didn't have some adult to take care of her? She'd probably die anyway... But letting Arvid take the child just didn't seem like an option, even with those thoughts rearing their heads in an attempt to persuade her to save herself.\n\n\"Very well,\" She said slowly, her voice choked and small. \"But before you do it, you have to set her down and let her go. It's not like I can run anyway, so you will have me, and it's not like I can stop you if you chose to just take her anyway. It's the only way I can be sure you'll keep your end of the bargain.\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid glanced between Amaryllis and her discarded axe. There was complete neutrality in him, even as he commanded that woman's sorry life, like he had merely asked an errand of her. His thoughts on the matter were practical and unbothered. Amaryllis nauseously swayed. Her voice was strained, a whisper, escaping her with her breath. Arvid knew he had spoiled her and marked her to live - at least, ensured her story would not end on his sword's edge - when he sliced her arm. Then again, she was an experience he had enjoyed before. He had dined on the meat of woman, man, peasant, and noble. Sheep, too. Rosalee was the only exciting prospect set before him. Still, there was work to be done; he had not properly stolen the girl. Not yet.\n\n\"I won't be taking them myself.\" He gestured towards the axe. \"This doesn't bring into question my ability to use an axe. No, it's about your willpower.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis stared at him incredulously, her mind not entirely believing what he was asking her to do. Yet he looked back at her with such serious indifference that she knew this was no joke and that he fully intended for her to remove her own arm from her body. \n\nShe hesitated, then finally bent down to pick up the axe, though when she did, a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her so strongly that she crumpled to her knees. Somehow, she managed to take hold of the axe anyway, grasping it in her good arm and picking it up, though it felt as if it must weigh a hundred tons. Had the thing gotten heavier in the time since she had first picked it up?\n\nShe held out her bad arm and looked at it, gripping the tail end of the axe in her good arm, gauging how she could manage such a thing. The angles just didn't work out. It would be impossible for her to cut off her whole arm, especially in her weakened and partially incapacitated state."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid observed Amaryllis with a resuscitated interest - the same terrible, dark look he'd shot her from the other side of her axe. He seemed a mountain with the woman on her knees. Rosalee was stranded on his peak, her resistance worn to tired kicks and half-hearted squirms. The girl had a narrowing supply of oxygen left up on that hill. Who knows how long Arvid would entertain the burden of a child? Rosalee's life could persist for days, or perhaps months, if she behaved. She had to be terribly gentle with that supply of air, with Arvid's good graces. \n\n\"Pity. Look, girl.\" Arvid cupped Rosalee's cheeks, forcing her to gaze upon a groveling Amaryllis. \"She doesn't want you enough. She won't even try.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nRosalee's lips puckered a bit like a fish's as Arvid gripped her cheeks tightly to force her to look at Amaryllis, his grip tight enough that it left little half moon patches on her face where the force of his grip drove the blood away. Her little face was streaked with tears, and at the sight of her caretaker in such a sorry state, she began to cry harder. Amary! Amary had to save her! Amary would save her! \n\nAmaryllis gazed up at the two of them, a little flash of anger flickering in her eyes, like the last licks of flames at a dying campfire. \"I think you're just too cowardly to take it yourself,\" She snapped, a little bite to her voice. \"And you still didn't put her down. I'm not doing it until you let her go.\""
}
] | 225.5 | 1,341 |
210.166667 | 2023-02-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid's lips were plucked upward by Amaryllis hot-headed assertion. It was endearing what humans would do to preserve themselves - bargaining, swearing empty promises, threatening, wagering - nothing was too much. She had a seemingly-infinite toolbelt of methods, of ways to plead for that little orphan. Was it mere instinct? Or was it learned? Had she bargained before, her words her savior? Arvid was entertained greatly by her tricks and turns. Her desperate mind was ravaging. \n\n\"Oh, I'm sorry. I must've misrepresented myself.\" Arvid responded politely. \n\nHe brought his sword to his shirt, realizing hastily that he had no spare hand to wipe it clean. Bloodying his shirt would likely attract unwanted attention - both from men and wildlife - regardless. Instead, Arvid raised the steel to his lips. His tongue darted out, polishing a fat strip of its blade. The taste of metal punched his tongue, festering in his mouth, carried in his saliva. He lapped at it again. He had never been so parched in his life. Twice. Thrice. All the while, he listlessly gazed at Amaryllis over its edge; eventually, he allowed it to rest once more by his side. \n\n\"Did you mean to cut your arm off first? Well, what I really mean to ask is what limb you'd like to lose first.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAmaryllis stared at him as he lapped away the blood from his blade, a little shiver running through her. It was like watching a blood-thirsty animal! A madman, clearly. And still Rosalee was trapped in his grasp. \n\n\"If you set down Rosalee and let her go,\" She replied sternly, insisting again that he put down the child before she upheld her end of the bargain. \"Then I will give you what you want—arm first.\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid's light, playful demeanor seemed to buckle. His smile - at least, the implication of one upon his lips - withered to a thinly lined frown. Everything seemed a savage game to him, like a cat toying with a mouse upon its clawtips. Every cut he'd taken from Amaryllis was lighthearted. It was a mere jest. It was an illusion. It was fantasy. \n\nBut then, right then, he grew bored. The entertainment Arvid built around himself collapsed, his delight decayed, and then everything was real. The air stunk of metal and wet earth, a girl had sunken her teeth into his arm, a shepherd was soon to die at his feet. His sword felt awkward in his grasp. He would trek miles through the forest, he would fatigue himself, he would exhaust his reserves building a camp. Everything was grey and routine all over again. Even the robbery in progress seemed worn out. \n\n\"It's no good. Gods, fuck.\" He sheathed his sword, washing his now-free hand over his face. \"You're not fun anymore. Pass out over there and die with your sheep.\" He pointed at the nearby pen. \"Maybe somebody will find you.\" With that, he turned on his heel and began to depart, Rosalee in tow."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\n*The wrong answer.* Horror seized Amaryllis as she realized that he was set to take Rosalee away from her, and it was all her fault for being too weak to stop him! It was her fault for not just doing as he asked! For demanding he set the child down before she gave him what he wanted! But what else could she have done? If she had obeyed, he would have likely just laughed as she bled out and taken Rosalee anyway! \n\nBut this sudden shift roused both Rosalee and Amaryllis from their weakened stupors. Rosalee began to kick and thrash and bite and claw with renewed vigor, as feeble as those attempts were against Arvid, and Amaryllis began to clamber after him, screeching like a banshee. \n\n\"No!\" She screamed, her shrieks echoing and bouncing off the hills around them. \"You can't take her! Put her down! Stop!\" She babbled and shrieked, obscenities and pleas and everything in between, desperate to rescue Rosalee, and yet not even having the strength to stand."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Arvid Erwynson\nRural Northwind\n\nArvid turned his head as Amaryllis shrieked. Rosalee's renewed efforts were quashed by Arvid's hand, which dwarfed her little ones and trapped them like a ten-fingered bouquet. His back remained turned to the disheveled thing behind him. Still, there was an indication that he heard Amaryllis. Perhaps his attention was feigned, another trick to trip her. Perhaps his attention spelled her doom. Either way, she earned it with her wailing. \n\n\"I can't take her? Nobody's tried to stop me. I deserve to eat too.\" Arvid returned, closing his statement as he turned away from her."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Amaryllis Sweetford\nRural Northwind\n\nAnger ripped through her when he so nonchalantly said that nobody had tried to stop him, surmounting her pain and weakness. She grasped the axe in her hand, gritting her teeth as she raised it up over her head, advancing on him as fast as she could with a bum leg and arm and such profuse bloodless. \n\n*Bastard! I'll bash your brains in!*\n\nHe was still a few strides ahead of her, but if only she could catch up before he realized of this second wind, she could—\n\nHer foot caught on something and she tumbled down, her chin smacking hard enough on the earth to make her see stars and the axe flying from her hands and embedding itself in the dirt nearby."
}
] | 206.5 | 1,261 |
1,093.833333 | 2023-03-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "A dock near the Keep Sempiternal, the Grey Hills \n\nIn the distance, the shimmering lights off the castle of House De Lysse could be seen flickering and wavering. One could deduce the stronghold was bustling with activity standing even miles away. There was something majestic that emanated from its aura, even late at night. The construction of the castle seemed to make the night clouds part so the moon may shine its favour upon it. \n\nOf course it was well and good fawning over scenery and landscape without actually being there. There was no envy on that front. \n\n\"She'll be busy tonight, that one we dropped off,\" A crewman said to another, making his way to lean against one of the wooden beams on the dock. He wore a white button-up shirt, faded leather suspenders and black work-pants with some holes visible in them. He was clean-shaven and had a broken nose, which seemed to bend more to one side when he smiled. \n\n\"I don't even understand what sorta punishment that is for 'er. 'ow's placing 'er in a fine-dinin' situation wiv uhva fuckin' nobles gonna let 'er know she's still property uhv the tradin' company?\" The other crewman asked. He was dressed similarly to the first, though more neat in his appearance and possessing a handsome face. \"I saw dat Skagerlly girl, she had a wild look in 'er eye,\" He added. \"Apparently Galt-Drake found a knife on 'er during the party,\" He finished that sentence by taking a drag of his cigarette. \n\n\"I'm surprised Galt-Drake finds anything uhva 'dan his tongue up the King's arse.\" They both laughed. \"I like 'em wild. She's the best-lookin' thing I've seen in a long time whilst I'm travelling the seas transporting whatever his majesty pleases. I bet she's a good fuck.\" The first of the crewmen smirked at the notion. \n\nThe second of the crewmen rolled his eyes. \"She'd stab that blade uhv 'ers right into your neck if an ugly fucka like you so much looked at 'er wrong.\" He took another drag of his cigarette.\n\n\"Man 'as to try, aye? Every stop we make I take a woman. Uhvawise I'd 'ave to fuck you,\" The first crewmen laughed. \"Maybe your muhva' will be on one uhv our stops. I know she always needs a good needlin'.\" He smirked, seemingly making his nose bend. \n\n\"Brilliant,\" The second crewmen responded, annoyed. \"What about the uhvas? 'er bruhver and the diplomat?\" He enquired. \n\n\"Hrrm,\" The first crewman sounded, stretching his back and making it audibly crack. \"The King 'ad no use for 'em. Sent 'em off on some uhva ship. Probably smaller, and wiv a nicer crew.\" He smirked again, making his broken nose look even more bent.\n\n\"And what about... 'im, in there? The King wanted us to personally trade him off wiv Carter's men?\" The second crewmen asked. \n\nThe first one laughed again. It was a horrible, rattly thing. He looked up the gangway and saw the Black Poppy sails flapping ceremoniously in the winds. \"You mean Gitten's bitch? Poor sod is still reeling after the lashings she gave 'im. For a slaver though, I thought fifty weren't nearly enough. I'd personally see to it that 'e gets hundreds more.\" The first of the crewmen stole an apple from an open crate being carried between two other shipmen onto the deck and bit into it. \"Aye, the King wants us to hand-deliver that one to the right 'ands so justice is properly dealt out. I volunteered our crew because 'e's a slippery eel, that one. We'll whip 'im into shape. Again.\" \n\nJust as the first of the crewmen had finished speaking, a man in the only fanciful piece of clothing seen across the entire dock leaned over the starboard. It was a fine, long naval jacket, befitting only a captain. It was black, with finally sewn cloth and satin at the cuffs and clavicle, a dark, rich turquoise, in the fashion of House Maith of Tonate Proper and its sigil.\n\n\"Oi, Grennick, Moalley!\" He called down. \"Will you two fuckin' 'urry up?! Daylight 'as gone and we're about two mindless fuckwits away from being caught in the fuckin' storm. Get a move on!\" The captain swiftly disappeared. \n\n\"Aye, Captain Finnbargh!\" The second crewman, presumably Moalley, answered. \"''e's right, c'mon. I should probably make sure our guest is fed for the night before the worst uhv the waves meet us.\" He started to walk up the gangway. \n\nGrennick grabbed at his arm before he could make his way up. \"Uh-uh,\" He said. \"I'll go. 'e probably misses me.\" Grennick grinned with worn, cracked teeth. \n\nMoalley sighed. \"You shouldn't fuck wiv 'im the way you have. 'e's a dangerous man,\" He warned. \n\nGrennick gave another rattly laugh. \"You're not scared uhv that piece uhv shit, are you? 'e's nuffin'. We get some uhv the worst crewmen in all the Isles, and I mean true to the Tides Barer, the most limp-dicked, most incompetent, useless cum stains the Isles can muster, cut off one uhv their 'ands each, get 'em deliriously drunk and they'd still be mopping the decks clean wiv the one free 'and they 'ave left after the bloodbath they created from smashing that lunatic and 'is men. Those savages from the north, 'is lot, they're just wannabe pirates. Can't man a ship to save their lives.\"\n\nMoalley sighed again. \n\n\"And anyway, I'm second mate, and you're just a crewmen, so fuck off and go scrub the deck wiv the uhva one-'anded invalids.\" \n\n\"Wanka,\" Was all Moalley had to say to that, before finally walking up the gangway. \n\nGrennick soon followed up behind him. The deck was bustling with crewmen from aft to stern, with men running around following the captain and the first mate's orders. Crewmen were pulling at the halyard to raise the sails even more and capture the strong winds of Northwind. After he planted his boots on the deck, men began pulling up the gangway and untying the spring lines at the dock. Captain Finnbargh stood at quarterdeck.\n\n\"The storm will delay us a day or two, but if you all do your fuckin' jobs, we won't be 'eld-up too drastically. No vessel from the Isles 'as ever been this far north before, let alone the Witherlands. But we 'ave a mission, and I'll see to it that it's accomplished. The *King's Wisdom* Is a good bitch, and she'll see us good and protected from the Dusk Sea's chilly embrace. That's all. GET THE FUCK ON WIV IT!\" He boomed, and all men who had been listening so intently almost instantly bolted back to work at the captain's command. \n\nGrennick, however, didn't seem to be in any particular rush. He reached over to a hollow crate where he'd placed his things on. His grey woollen flat cap, and his black salt-washed overcoat with a black poppy badge sewn into the breast. He swaggered around like he owned the place. The *King's Wisdom* Was a competent ship, as Captain Finnbargh had yelled. It was big, easily able to hold over a hundred men. It was sturdy as well, time-tested as could be told by the worn deck and paintwork. Its mast and the sail it brandished could be seen a ways away, almost like House De Lysse's castle from where they were stood on the dock.\n\nHe went down below, into the galley where the cooks were at work. \"Where's the prisoner's meal?\" He asked when he entered the dining area. The smell of salt, smoke and spices were pleasing. \n\n\"Right there on the table, Second Mate Grennick. Stewed trout,\" A cook replied.\n\nWithout saying anything else, he took the bowl with the spoon and descended further in the *King's Wisdom*. Grennick had been working on ships for as long as he could remember, and could almost always pinpoint the exact second when his ears were about to pop the lower he went. They did so as he expected, and the sound of the old wooden stairs creaked just like Moalley would describe his laugh. It was dim down in the cells, with scarcely a candle to guide his way. Yet he knew exactly where to go. After clattering around to find his keys, he opened a dusty oaken door without a peephole. The keys groaned as he twisted. When the vague light traced into the cells, the outline of the Sea King's face, the bastard David Brass, could be made. His wrists were chained around his cell, so he was sitting on the floor. \n\n\"The King uhv the Chair!\" Grennick proclaimed, adding the first signs of life to the cells presumably had been in days. \"No chair now it seems, though. A shame, really. You seemed quite taken with it.\" He grinned to show off his worn and crooked teeth. \"What will it be now then? King uhv the mouldy, shit-ridden floor? King uhv the the chains? King uhv the iron bars? ... King uhv the whip?\" That last suggestion was said in a low, ominous tone. Grennick knelt slightly so he could be at eye-level with the prisoner.\n\n\"That'd be fitting, wun' it? Considering 'ow many you've put to it before and 'ow now you're branded by it.\" The irony wasn't lost on the captive, he was sure, though he did enjoy parading it right in front of the man's face. \"You certainly don't look like any King uff the Seas I've ever seen. Not after a *Woman* Pulled you down like a common peasant, stripped you from your garb and *Whipped* You in broad daylight like a dog. Why, I dun' even know if you look much like a man anymore.\" Grennick laughed. It almost sounded like he was choking on smoke. Almost like a blacksmith's hammer had been lodged in his throat, but continued its master's bidding by ramming and rattling around in there, conjuring up Grennick's amusements rather than good steel."
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "The sudden light and subsequent harassment from his food-bringer met the self-titled Sea King's eyes and ears all at once. The Brass King looked less kingly while he sat in the shadows like a beggar on his knees. David's face, once fully in view, looked unkempt; his normally short brown hair and beard looked more like seaweed, blackened by the dirt from the ship and dampened from the sweat and oil off his unwashed body.\n\nHe spat at Grennick's feet. \"You southerners never speak with a clear voice,\" The Brass bastard said. His throat sounded drained and dry as he spoke his insult towards his food-bringer. He didn't have much to drink, only enough to keep him alive for whatever the Pirate King wished from him. \n\nThe dim lights of the dark cells flickered each time David moved, so he had to be careful with each of his movements, not wanting to stumble into the remnants of his last meal that littered his cell. The stench was hidden by the strong smell of the salty waters, almost a blessing from Dovka herself, blocking the awful odours from his cell. The darkness did well to also hide the wounds on his back. They had mostly healed, but his scars run deep. The dark yellow rags placed on him were very unsuitable for a king of any kind. Though they barely covered him, he was hidden by the dimness of the cell.\n\nDavid took a moment before leading back and gazing upwards at Grennick. \"That *Woman* Would snap your neck quicker than a winged scale stealing a stone-shell's eggs. You speak only now with backbone.\" The chained king coughed before addressing his food-bringer. \"I never thought the likes of you could be first mate. My forgetfulness has gotten the best of me down here. Either way, I didn't know they had the duties of a waitress in the south. You look dressed for such a part.\" David did well to hide his anger as he rubbed his chains across the floor slightly as he continued to speak. \"You cannot move me as the sea herself guides me, do you not see that?\" He questioned.\n\nThe blowing of the wind from the sea could be heard as silence between the pair took over. The unkempt captive chattered his teeth slowly before uttering his next words, looking into Grennick's green eyes. \"This is the third time I've had to suffer under your unwanted smile. I suggest you just depart after offering my feed.\" He rattled his chains. \"Unless you offer anything worth my hearing, I'd rather sit within my throne of chains, wearing my crown of cold and sitting within my royal hall of fucking darkness than hear you entertaining yourself.\" David shook his head then paused and started laughing; a long and twisted laugh, the sound twisted almost like the wind from outside on the ship.\n\nThe Sea King was, after all this time, entertained, realising something. \"You do walk down here to entertain yourself. First mate is a position that should be carried with a point, not carried as a burden. Yet you hold it as a burden and you want to lessen such a burden on me, because at this moment I may be under your power, as you think. Nay– even now you hold no true power, just a pretender with a cracked face. Jester. That is what you'll be. A jester for the Sea King is what you are.\""
},
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "Grennick had spent almost the entirety of the time the captive had been flurrying barbs and shanks his way by helping himself to his meal of stewed trout, taking extra time to lick the spoon clean and chuckle at whatever his prisoner had to say. \n\n\"Fuuuuckin' 'ell,\" He said after the Sea King had finished his ranting and ravings. \"It really is like the ramblings of a soft-'eaded lunatic whenever you speak, innit?\" He asked, taking another spoon-full of the meal. \n\n\"You say us southerners don't talk so good, but I couldn' understand a single fuckin' word that came out uhv your stupid mouth just then. 'Winged scale' and 'stone-shells'. What the fuck *Is* That?\" He sounded almost angry enquiring about it. The very notion of that foreign, ridiculous man remarking about some foreign, ridiculous thing seemed to offend him. \"Absolute poppycock *Shit,* Whatever it is. Made up bollocks from some inbred savage fool, lordin' ohva uhva inbred savage fools. Your bruhvas and sistas most like.\" The thought caused Grennick to chortle. If David's laugh was the twisting winds of the waves, Grennick's was the sound of crashing ships. \n\nGrennick stood his full form once again, causing his knees to pop. He took another mouthful before saying, \"I'm second mate, you blitherin' wanka. You know that.\" He wrapped his idle hand around the iron bars that secured the Sea King on his new throne. \"See, ranks and stations actually mean somethin' on the Isles. Every nook and cranny 'as significance in traversing what the Tides Barer sets out to test us wiv. We saw 'ow well your crew and ship fared. Nuffin' but a bunch of gormless northern fuckwits 'oo'ed sooner bash an oar ohva anuhva' rower's 'ead and bare-back 'is unconscious body than use it to sail the seas.\" He settled down the dish inches away from, only a finger's reach away from being able to grab it.\n\nHe lowered himself once again. \"You fink I'm the jester 'ere, but... Just look at you, wearing those shit-stained rags, sitting down 'ere in the dark, not knowing if it's dawn or dusk, pouting over the lashings a woman much stronger than you gave you. The sea guides you, aye.'' He took his other hand and wrapped it around the iron bars and pulled himself closer to the prisoner. \"It guides you directly to your deaff. You've lost, my friend. You lost everyfing in one fell-swoop and you still fink you've got a big enuff cock to say uhvawise. You're in the bowels uhv the *King's Wisdom* Yet you are the most delusional, mindless man in any realm, anywhere.\" \n\nGrennick leant his elbow and forearm across the bars, taking a more casual stance. It also blocked the view of David's mouth, which pleased him. \"I *Really* Don't fuckin' like you. The very first time I saw you poncin' and gallivantin' about the mansion, I knew you were someone 'oo fought' they were untouchable. People 'av said that exact same fing about me before, but I never cared. I s'pose we're similar on that front. Why care if someone don't like you if they're weaker than you, or lesser than you?\" He looked up and down the iron bars and tested their integrity by shaking them, which rattled David's chains. \"It's all about power, though. I 'ad the power to not give a shit if some lickspittle didn't like me because I knew I could crush them, and you knew it didn't matter if someone didn't like you, because you and uhva people were stupid enuff to fink that you're some sort uhv king. You believed no one would dare touch the king.\" Grennick laughed again, like nails scratching on chalk. \"But now you're in 'ere, completely 'elpless. Would that really happen to the king?\"\n\nThe second mate swiped the dish he saw the beggar king had been eyeing since he set it down and held it in his hands. He snorted as painstakingly long as he could with his broken nose before coughing up a clump of mucus and saliva into the dish. It looked like a malignant poison had corrupted the contents of the meal. He then proceeded to pour it over the captive's head until it was dripping off of his head and onto his worn rags. The stewed trout mixed with his saliva and snot crowned the fallen king, like he had been immersed in some foul witch's concoction. It poured off him in clumps, like a malignant ichor from a pustular sore. \"That's the fing about power,\" He told him after he was finished pouring it onto him, still holding it in its slanted position. \"It's eva-changing. Out there, before, you were king uhv some rock and I was some middleman uhv some cargo ship. But in 'ere, now, you're nuffin' but a beggar, and I'm the fuckin' king. And it is with righteous aufourity that I decree that you, my 'umble subject, will be broken by the time you're 'and-delivered to Carter.\" He stared at him for an uncomfortably long period. \"No one's untouchable,\" He said, before turning to leave."
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David Brass leaned back against the shadow-covered walls for a long moment, aiming to understand the foreign accent of his watcher. He felt his chains rattled, but never rose to the provocation. David remained silent for the duration of his captor's spiel, allowing the second mate his sense of control, the sense of power, though truly thinking that all of Grennick's words were humorous. His smirk was hidden by his poorly-groomed beard and the shadows of his confines. It was entertaining to David; his jester was doing what he wished. \n\nDavid continued to think about many matters at that moment. He paused his anger-filled convictions and watched on. The entertainment just kept going. For a man that said the Sea King rambled, he spoke more needlessly than Old Vickon. Unnecessary ego was a true showing of a weak man, all capped off by the actions and words of this bragard David was faced with. *He could have dropped the food and departed, but no. My jester wishes to please himself like a common whore before me.* He looked at the meal in question that had been placed mere inches from his cell. *I'll allow it, and soon twist him to my will.* David thought that could be his way out of chains. *By Dokva does he ever shut up? This is just sad now. A man wishing to just be so self-important. All I have is time, yet still he is wasting it*.\n\nThe mind of the Sea King stopped at an idea, and leaned forward as much as his chains allowed him. He cleared his throat. \"A man of great insight. Again, a pity you remain down here so much with a mindless, delusional vagrant such as myself. Still, you entertain... Entertain yourself, *And* Myself.\" He carefully rose to his knees, so he no longer remained on the filthy floor. The effort proved to be a great struggle. His physically fit body had started to deteriorate in captivity, alongside his treatment from the Southern Islanders. When he properly positioned himself, he breathed and sighed heavily whilst eyeing Grennick, so much so that it almost dulled the sounds of the waves beneath them. Eventually, he coughed out a laugh. The laughter was short, but dark in nature before David Brass spoke again. \"Your time is clearly more valuable than mine. Why not speak of your observations to your crew. They must respect you, eh? With you being second mate and all. Or perhaps...,\" He paused, his lips up-turning into a slight smirk. \"Well, I shouldn't be telling tales. A king shouldn't produce discontent.\"\n\nDavid Brass then felt the stew pour on top of him in slimy, cold clusters. The half-eaten, poorly-aged meal dripped down his forehead. He did not rise to it, however, and remained stone-faced as his tormentor spoke his piece. The situation didn't call for any rash reaction. A king knew when to allow his rage to take him, and when to allow a slight, only to perhaps return the favour later on. The prisoner of the *King's Wisdom* Shrugged his strong, sinewy shoulders and slowly sat back down. His dishevelled form rejoined with the shadows of his cell. \"What do I know? I am the only man with nothing to gain from speaking this to you. Still, perhaps you'll be able to visit me more often with less duties to hold.\"\n\n\"Your words ring true, no man is untouchable.\" The king gritted his teeth as his dark silver eyes remained locked on his food-bringer, his jester, his way out, perhaps. \"Some can be more difficult to touch; less under threat when not alone. It seems at this moment you are alone, at least to my eyes and,\" He gestured around him. \"I know that feeling of being alone also. Our reasons for that are different. I remain locked up in darkness. You are alone up there, being used by a crew that doesn't respect you. And well... Perhaps the position of second mate might be changed.\" He clicked his tongue at the end, to punctuate his point.\n\n*Delivered to Carter,* David thought to himself, *Which one, the cold elder head of their selfish house or the petulant younger brother that failed in rebellion against the elder? Well, a failed rebellion is what scrolls and rumours told me.* David pondered that a moment longer. *It was a battle of Carters, the details were not important. Anything of worth is written within my family's collection of tales to remember. The spiked squid uses its mind as well as its jagged tendrils to prepare for danger. Either one of those despots of the mainland would take my head. Dokva would not allow that and neither will I.* David's thoughts drifted for a moment almost like the sea carrying the boat they were on, not even allowing the words of his watcher to really sink in."
},
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "The second mate of the *King's Wisdom* Had poured the contents of what would have been the prisoner's meal over his head to shut him up and assert his dominance over the situation. When Brass huddled backwards into the shadows, without another word, contradiction, or utterance, seemingly defeated, a sick satisfaction washed over Grennick. He smirked the most insidious smirk he could muster before smugly beginning his ascent back up to the ship. \n\nThat was until the bastard spoke from the depths of his gloom. \n\nGrennick stopped in his tracks, almost denting the waned woodwork on the floor within the vessel's jail cells with the heel of his boot with how abruptly he stopped. Those words from the dark, it was nothing more than the drivel of a ghost; a damned, heathen soul that would soon be snuffed out when the Tides Barer dragged it to the pit of the sea's never-ending damnation. Or... He would answer to whatever heretic god he never shut his mouth about. The thought of this oppressor, this supposed king being attainted by the very god he worshipped was better than any fuck from any wench waiting at the port towns for him. Yet still, even with that thought presiding in him, he had halted at the Sea King's words. \n\nHe snarled, grinding his worn, chipped teeth together, and clenched his ringed fingers into a fist until they grew white. He inhaled before turning back to the darkness that beckoned him. \n\n\"You nevah shut that stupid fuckin' gob of yours, do you? You fuckin' *Love* Natterin' on and on, 'earin' the sound of your own voice, don't you?\" He paced back to iron bars and pounded his clenched fists on them, making the frame rattle slightly again. Grennick gripped at the bars whilst he pressed his forehead to the bars. His flat cap shadowed his face, obstructing his features like a visor of darkness.\n\n\"You're someone that finks that they can and always *Will* Get the last word. That's what you fink constitutes as power...,\" After a moment of contemplation, he stood back up right and moved back slightly into the narrow, dim column of light that the torch from the hallway offered. \n\n\"I s'pose that's what a king finks 'e's entitled to. The final say.\" He laughed, shaking his head. It sounded like the rattling of a snake before it striked. \"Not down 'ere, boy. Nah. Down 'ere this is **My** Fuckin' domain. You 'ear me?! **I AM THE FUCKIN' KING DOWN 'ERE!\"** The rage in Grennick's voice when he shouted seemed to shake the entirety of the dungeon. The one torch that gave them a modicum of vision faded even more. There was a silence in the bowels of the *King's Wisdom* That seemed to last a century. Eventually, Grennick laughed again, realising he was playing into Brass' game. \n\n\"I bet you fink you're so fuckin' smart, don't you?\" He asked, starting to pace back and forth whilst he fixated on the figure alone in the black. \"I'm sure you fink you're coy, or cunning. Try'na sow seeds of doubt and make it out like them boys up there walk all ovah me like shit on their boots. Right. Very good.\" Grennick laughed again. It sounded like the bastard's chains scraping against the floor whenever he would move them. \"I'm sure on your dismal little rock that's what counts as intelligence. I guess that's why you're their king... Or well, *Were.\"* He smirked, and so his broken nose appeared even more crooked. Grennick was a man with a nose that bent very easily, but an ego that refused to ever bend to anything.\n\nHe looked up for a moment, extending his neck upwards so much so that it almost appeared to be a strain. In the dark, his murky green eyes looked almost reptilian when he locked them onto the ceiling. Then, his gaze drifted back to the object of his infatuation. He sucked his teeth. \"'ey, listen mate, I get it. 'undreds of years ago, our Isles were no be'ah than yours. We was just a buncha savages. That was until we were colonised and turned all 'civilised'.\" He gave an exhale, indicating amusement. \"So I'm sure, considering your circumstances and where you come from, you *Are* As coy and cunning as you fink you are.\" \n\nGrennick scratched at his clean-shaven face. The irritant he felt was stubble coming in, or perhaps something else. \"As for me being someone else's whippin' boy, I'm afraid you're the only in 'ere 'oo fits that role. I don't get walked on. **I** Walk on them. 'ell, I *Leap* Over 'em and stomp the bottom of my 'eel into their skulls to get ahead. 'ow'd you fink I got to be second mate in the first place?\" He laughed into the vast, empty darkness. \"Mah'er of fact, the lads and I got a bet goin', yeah.\" He reached into his pocket to pull out some valuables. \"Three pieces 'a silver goin' on when I can break you to the point you renounce your 'eretic god. The lads fink it'll take me a while, seeing as you're barkin' mad. But I ain't evah lost a wager on the *King's Wisdom.\"* He smirked, pocketing the coins once again. \n\nHe knelt down once again to retrieve the dish he had used to pour the Sea King's meal on his head. He threw it between the iron bars, sending it crashing and cluttering into all the other plates Brass' cell had been littered with. \"Grub's up. Enjoy it, *Your grace.*\" The second mate made his way out the oaken door of the jail cells, taking a second to look back before slamming it shut."
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "The Sea King David Brass simply smirked in the shadows as he reached towards his meal. \"I will enjoy it. Jester.\" The Young Brass chuckled to himself."
}
] | 1,113 | 6,563 |
641.666667 | 2023-03-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Lyra Beaumont\nSomewhere in Northwind\n\n\"Let's stop.\"\n\nLyra's voice, though muffled and tinny beneath her mask, was still sharp enough for the mercenary driving the cart to pull the horses into a slower stride.\n\n\"What do you mean? Still enough light to see by,\" Said the other mercenary sitting in the cart with her. He followed Lyra's gaze to the treeline behind them. She'd been glancing behind them for the past hour, now, each time letting her eyes linger longer. _She must be nervous about those noises,_ he thought.\n\nLyra looked over at him, seeing that he was also scanning the trees above. _So he's heard them, too?_\n\n\"What's wrong?\"\n\nThe mercenary pulled the horses to stop so he could turn around, a puzzled expression drawing together his bushy brows. He was a young, scrappy man, but he had ruthless precision — and a knack for finishing jobs quickly, even days before he needed to. That also made him pretty impatient. And having to bring Lyra along to what would have normally been a two-man (emphasis on man) job had him on edge.\n\n\"There's been some strange noises trailing behind us for a couple hours now, Trip,\" The other mercenary said, pulling his eyes from the boughs of dingy green above to look at their designated cart driver. \"You probably couldn't tell from where you're sitting.\"\n\n\"All the more reason to keep _going_,\" Trip said. His gaze shifted to Lyra, and it suddenly felt more fiery. \"Or is the Canary scared?\"\n\n\"I have a feeling that whatever's following us is waiting for the night,\" Lyra said, standing up and fastening her weapons belt more securely to her waist. Placing one hand on the edge of the cart, she swung herself over, startling the horses. She landed square on her feet, eyes still fixed above. \n\n\"What are you doing?\" Trip said, throwing the reins down, and only agitating the horses more. \"Viper, do something, will you?\"\n\nViper just raised his hands, staying in the cart. \"She's right,\" He said, giving her a nod of assurance. He was a little older, middle aged. The top of his head had balded, but he still had long hair down the sides of his head and a full beard swallowing his chin. \"Someone's gotta see what's back there. We'll stay here, Canary. Just come back in one piece.\"\n\n\"Or, don't\" Trip said beneath his breath, so only Viper could hear. \n\nLyra didn't waste more time after she received Viper's blessing. She was determined to neutralize the threat regardless of her companions' approval, but Viper was one of Levi's followers whom she was more willing to listen to. It was unnerving to hear shitbloods talk to her the way Trip did. She'd been inches away from pinning him with her knife to his neck several times on the job, and they'd only been gone a day or so. But Viper had always been hospitable and respectful in his speech. She'd noticed a wedding band on his hand when they were introduced. It seemed the both of them had come from very different lives. Maybe he could see it in her eyes, too.\n\nLyra grimaced as she walked, drawing her knife. _And who are you now,_ she thought. _Saying \"Neutralize\" When you know you mean \"Kill.\" How many have you neutralized, now? Sweetly, or otherwise?_\n\nThe question mattered, but now wasn't the time to chew it over. It couldn't be. This was her idea, after all.\n\n\"Come on out,\" Lyra called, using her free hand to untie her mask's loops from behind her ears. She welcomed the night air as it hit her face, tucking the mask's ties into her belt strap. \"We know you're following us. Show yourself, or I'll lure you out, myself.\"\n\nMask undone, Lyra now placed her free hand on her amulet, drawing from its power. Her pupils started to glow amber as her eyes scanned the treeline, anticipating movement."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Selkie N'yenskor\nNorthwind\n\nFootprints swept aside brush and other debris like dandruff in tree canopies, left by racing, pale feet. Dark wings expertly attached themselves to tree trunks and limbs - beneath them swung a maiden's legs. Flashes of silver grew more sparse as the sun sunk lower beneath the horizon. Wiry, umber fur grew black under a starless sky, its gasps of life suffocated among the leaves. All of these components joined together to form some chimera, some horrible, nimble Frankenstein. She had the torso and head of a bat, the lower half of a woman, all splotched with uneven patches of fur. She stalked the torchlight. Ears swiveling, snout twitching, Selkie picked her way through the canopy. She noisily leapt from one limb to the next, emitting a near-mute squeak. Eyes like marbles strained to see more than shapes, suggestions of objects - it was a futile effort. Her vocalizations better illuminated her surroundings, allowing her to pinpoint the figures. Their distant conversation was practically held in her ear on account of her excellent hearing. \n_ _\n\nThen one turned and spoke. Selkie's entire body grew still, and she was a gargoyle, locked in the terror of being caught. No, it was not that alone - that voice, that chilling voice - Selkie was horrified to consider its owner. The ever-burning silver clasp seemed leagues tighter around her throat. Perhaps the lump she swallowed around was a tumor forming in her esophagus, squeezed beneath her silver, ready to suffocate her. She clasped her snout and covered her eyes. Braced against a tree's trunk, Selkie pressed her bony fingers into familiar grooves upon her face. Pale scars traced lines like wrinkles beneath her eyes, etched by years of stress relief. She had escaped so far, flown as far as her little wings could manage - how, then, had her past already found her? Had the Beaumonts so meticulously combed Marin for her? Were the trees clueing the family in, whispering to the lavender-eyed matriarch? Was the device around her throat relaying her location? Selkie was mad, frothing at the mouth with questions and paranoiac conspiracies. \n\nSelkie did not move. Instead, she clicked quietly, staring sightlessly in Lyra's direction. There was a helplessness anchoring her to her perch. If the Beaumont lady could track her across Marin, why flee? They would collect her, or they would not. Selkie lowered her beastly head with a deep sorrow. She did not want to be a captive. She did not wish to be caged, yet that seemed her fate."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Lyra Beaumont\nNorthwind\n\nLyra's pace slowed to halt. She heard a series of clicking (or... Chirping?) coming from what felt like all around her. She wanted to close her eyes and isolate its source, but she figured that making herself sightless, even temporarily, was not an ideal move considering her goal of finding something _before_ the light was gone. Whatever was making the noise, it didn't seem to be aggressive. It also didn't seem to be entirely human.\n\n_That's either good for me, or disastrous,_ Lyra thought, holding her knife with a more firm grip and raising it slightly. She slowly swiveled her head back and forth. The clicking sound was echoing off the trees, stronger depending on what way she faced, but still hard to pin down. \n\nIt would take too long to lure this thing out. Lyra could feel sweat forming on her brow, having to swipe her locs from her face for some relief. She unclasped her cloak, in the event she needed some more mobility. \n\n_And what about your voice?_\n\nLyra blinked, startled. The question sounded similar to her own, but it also felt like an intrusion, of sorts. Unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.\n\nThe woman took a deep breath, trying to shake off her nerves. It made sense. This was not a time to panic, but to persuade. She stood square, eyes lifted up, unsure where to aim her spell, but ready to cast nonetheless. Power escaped her body as she began to sing, quietly enough so as not to lure the mercenaries waiting behind. Oddly, the song she sang felt implanted somehow. Dripping with sweetness, but also a sharp loss.\n\n_Far too long you flew\nWhen safety here awaits you\nShow yourself, don't flee\nCome safely back to me\n\nPain, no need to fear\nAs I still stand right here\nI'll take you as you are\nCome, now, from the dark_\n\nThe woman felt her eyes sting as she sang, bewildered by the emotion. She had no connection to whatever had been trailing them, at least, none that she knew. And yet, she felt like she was singing to something long-gone. She grasped her amulet tightly, replacing what she'd been losing."
}
] | 577 | 1,925 |
522.666667 | 2023-03-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Selkie N'yenskor\nNorthwind\n\nSelkie's slender snout gaped as a song echoed out among the trees, a lullaby to the night - a lullaby to her, bidding her to return. The shifter was caught in the throes of a trance-like state, forced to gaze towards the song in blind awe. She lowered her head and caught her ears in her digits, attempting to ward off the sound. It was so cruel. It reached into her mind with sing-songy, evil intent, cloying and demented. Her state restricted crying, for she lacked tearducts; instead, she simply sat with her legs dangling. There was a fist around her heart. Bizarre, airy, choked sounds escaped her throat, agitating it as they strained to escape. The night felt like a blanket thrown over a cage. A false security. At any moment, a woman's hand would peel it back, would twist her palm around Selkie and pluck her from solace. The feelings ripping through her were white-hot and foreign, a fiery tsunami rocking her mind. \n\nThe girl stood, replacing her awkward cries with periodic clicks. She deftly crept towards the song. Still shrouded in both darkness and foliage, Selkie stalked the edge of the forest - the edge of Lyra's perception. Though poor, Selkie's own sight allowed her to witness a blade's sparkling edge, a necklace's twinkle, armor's charismatic glint. Silver shone handsomely in orange torchlight, betraying Lyra's location. Selkie's lip twisted beneath jagged teeth. Amber eyes peered at Lyra from between leaves. Selkie understood that the girl was not alone. Her companions would likely recapture Selkie before she freed herself of the collar. Still, Lyra - agonizing as her memory was - was the first armed person Selkie had seen in days. She could not squander the opportunity being foolish, being weak. Her ears swiveled as she attempted to touch Lyra's mind with her words. If the woman's mental defenses were lowered, Selkie's message would slither into her thoughts:\n\n*\"You help me.\"*"
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Levi Cortez \nNorthwind\n\nLevi glanced back down at the worn map, before tracing a line through the middle of the page. He looked up at Rhoderick and at the men around him before looking back down. \n\n\"Trade routes trace through the mountains, all leading to Rivers Peak. My men have been watching them closely, and they have discovered that many of them are just decoys. Anyone entering Rivers Peak with the Koern's blessing takes this road.\" He said, tracing a small curved line that angled sharply, cutting a distinct path through the dense forest. \"It's well protected, with guards placed at checkpoints that are placed every few leagues. Nothing gets in that they can't see, or that they haven't checked. Easy enough to bypass, as long as we have the right papers and cargo. My men and I will take care of the preparations.\" Levi said, before turning to face the rest of the men. \n\n\"The rest of you. Be prepared for war. It is inevitable. It will reach these doors before long.\" He said, before pulling his hood over his head. He gestured at Malachi to take his place before walking back out into the stone corridor outside of the massive war room. \n\nA chilling air settled around Levi as he made his way past the small crowd of nobles that had gathered inside of John's council. He felt their eyes on him, the unsettling feeling of people watching him making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. He was thankful for the hood. It gave him a mask, made him an enigma to most people.\n\n*\"You do not belong here.\"* A small voice slipped its way into his mind, and Levi's storm-like eyes danced around him, looking for the person who said it. \n\n*\"You belong with me, Levi!\"* The voice deepened, and as Levi looked forward, a trace of Tharn's eyes met his own, emblazoned with a yellow fire that ran shivers down Levi's spine. The echo of Tharn's voice bounced around Levi's head as Levi stumbled slightly. \n\n\"Are you all right, master Levi?\" An elderly noble reached his arm out to stable Levi. Levi shook his head, muttering an excuse about an old wound before walking outside. \n\nIron Gate's endless expanse stretched out before him, and in front of him sat the town square, a bustling hub of activity. Merchants pushed their way through the crowd, selling their wares as if they were the most important thing that someone could buy. Soldiers marched in unison, following the steps of their fathers as they skirted the edge of the crowd. John's banner hung loosely on their poles and on their capes, and his colors flew lazily in the soft breeze. Levi took a deep breath, before walking down the stone steps, disappearing into the crowd."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Lyra Beaumont\nNorthwind\n\n_\"You help me.\"_\n\nLyra practically balked. The creature's voice, meager and raspy, seemed to have slithered into her mind, snaking in places uninvited, and too lukewarm to blend with her own consciousness. In a moment, it felt like her heart thudded with more alarm against her chest. A shiver went down her spine. Did that... _thing_ just speak to her?\n\nShe couldn't make out what the thing was, exactly. But the amber, beady-looking eyes peering at her through the underbrush were telling enough. It wasn't human. She imagined it could have been a host of things, friendly or otherwise. Whatever it was, its voice seemed oddly familiar, as if it tapped into a distant memory. The amulet around her neck seemed to react to it, too. Feeling it pulse, Lyra flinched and snatched her hand away from it. The amulet's stone glowed violet, giving one last departing shine before dimming. \n\nMaking a mental note to check on... _that,_ later, Lyra drew in a deep breath, weighing her options. If all else failed, she could kill off the somehow-sentient creature if its demands were too much for her to handle — or too little for her to care about. And if it didn't take kindly to being neutralized by her blade, a hearty scream would do. But even these trajectories felt incomplete. Within her, deep enough to feel almost indiscernible from a muscle cramp or a stray chill, was a desire to not only keep this thing alive, but to keep it _with_ her. The notion was eerie. Why would she want something so creepy and crawly?\n\nStill, she knelt down and nodded her head, even though she doubted the torch she carried illuminated her that much to set off the affirming gesture. Her light armor clinked, and she set her knife down by her foot. With it free, she extended it toward the creature. \"Yes. I will,\" She said. It seemed to be able to discern spoken speech well enough, so she didn't dare try communicating through her mind, especially without knowing if she actually could.\n\nLyra tilted her head, intending to keep playing nice.\n\n\"I only came here because we heard you, you know,\" She said, trying not to let her typically critical tone seep in too heavily. \"Do you need food? Safe passage? We can help. Just tell me what you need.\""
}
] | 526 | 1,568 |
661.5 | 2023-05-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Lyra Beaumont\nNorthwind \n\nLyra watched Selkie, almost with bated breath. It was clear that no objective of hers would be met tonight. That knowledge annoyed her. Even as she watched the bat girl's forlorn gaze, it was hard for her to muster up much sympathy. Her arrival had delayed the party's return to the camp. It also threatened an unearthing of her identity, an act that would _actually_ send one of her siblings her way. And through it all, her mother's amulet burned with a desire that would not be sated. Once again, Lyra was pinned beneath Freya's wishes, bearing the weight of the woman's sins. \n\nHer mood perked a tad when she saw the shifter's unsightly body start to move... _toward_ them. Instinctively, she shuffled closer to Viper, the man also taking a more defensive stance. Selkie wasn't moving for an attack, but in their business, one could never be too sure.\n\n\"Interesting,\" He murmured, taking in the creature's disturbingly hybrid state. His gaze, though, remained fixed on the collar, the culprit for the poor thing's condition. He could only imagine how much the metal burned, in more ways than one. To know that such a small band was keeping it stuck in an unfortunate form must have started taking even an emotional toll on the creature. He could tell by the way it cast Lyra a compliant, but less-than-trusting side eye.\n\nHe stole a glance at Lyra, herself, who also seemed to be staring at the collar. Her own gaze seemed to carry a worry of her own. Indeed, Lyra beheld the collar as if it could speak. As if it could incriminate her, somehow. It looked like she longed to say something, perhaps a warning. But she didn't.\n\n\"Look,\" She whispered instead, lifting her hand to point at Selkie as the shifter tilted up her chin. The collar was exposed. \n\nViper just grunted and drew his sword from its sheath. He moved slowly, gripping the hilt with both hands.\n\n\"I'll try not to hurt you,\" He called to Selkie, dropping into his typical fighting stance. He hoped to rush in and cut the thing in one swipe, using the momentum from the charge to boost the power behind the blow. He only hoped that nothing else would get lopped off in the process.\n\nSo, Viper closed the distance between himself and Selkie in two quick strides, lifting his sword up above his right shoulder. In one graceful movement, he swung the blade down to the left, metal clashing with metal as it struck Selkie's collar with a loud _ding._\n\nAlmost immediately, the collar snapped, a cloud of magic energy lifting from the silver band. However, Viper's blade was also now covered in blood and stray patches of fur. His sword had broken flesh."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Selkie N'yenskor\nNorthwind\n\nSelkie's heart hammered furiously in her bosom, as if sounding its every alarm, her mind screaming to flee. Her limbs were anchored in place; Selkie was wholly petrified by the gaze of Viper's blade. His comforts met deaf ears. Her pitch eyes were pinned to the steel that reflected them. Then, as he raised his sword, Selkie's muscles realized their paralysis and acted. She winced when steel met silver, and his heavy-handed cleave marked a deep notch in Selkie's sternum. A choked yelp escaped her involuntarily - that sting was a soft touch compared to what immediately followed. Her collar shrieked a terrible, shrill death rattle as Viper sliced it cleanly. A horrific scene unfolded thereafter. \n\nInstantly - like gravity had increased tenfold - Selkie dropped to her knees. There was not a moment to ponder her freedom as an unbearable, hellish agony ripped through every cord of her. Every muscle, every tissue, every fiber, every bone: Selkie's entire existence became one of white-hot torture. A blood-curdling, inhuman scream ripped free of her lungs, shredding her vocal cords in its agonized wake. Where it seemed a bat could not cry, she did. It was a squealing, grating sound. Her great wingspan began folding itself into measly, compact, human arms, dark membranes traded for pale flesh. It was a grotesque transformation. Like her flesh was the soil from which sprouts - what were her wings - grew, they wilted back into her. Fortunately, a curtain of fiery hair quickly grew to conceal her visage's - undoubtedly grisly - mutation. A nauseating crackling underlined her terrified screams, which were growing more human by the moment. \n_ _\n\nHer screams subsided as the shifter before them stood a woman. Selkie's arms, which were propping up her torso, wearily collapsed with her body. She seemed disjointed entirely, laying on her side like a laboring animal. Gingerly, life stirred within the heap of her - made modest only by a knee-length mane of rusty hair. A young girl's face appeared within the fiery thicket. Lips as crimson and plump as autumnal apples sat beneath a narrow, mouse-like nose. Hazel, bewildered eyes glanced down at a human body. Selkie's hands shot up before her face, and she cautiously sat up, gazing at them incredulously. Slowly, methodically, she curled each one of her ten fingers. Hot tears gathered and blurred her vision. Never had she been more joyous to wipe the dampness from it - though she nearly speared her eye with an uncoordinated finger - as tears began flowing freely. She half-laughed, half-wept, drawing her knees to her chest and continually wiping her tears."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Lyra Beaumont\nNorthwind\n\nViper stumbled back, startled almost as much by the sound of the collar's demise as he was by the blood on his blade. He swore beneath his breath, coming to stand next to Lyra, chest heaving. The sword in his grip slipped to the ground. It wasn't for its weight. His fingers were trembling. Wide-eyed, he watched the shifter seem to crumble under a punishing weight. The man's face was stuck in a perpetual grimace, stomach churning from the screams.\n\nLyra, too, was horrified. Gruesome as the sight was, she couldn't bring herself to look away. Oddly, the screams stunned her still. Lips parted, she only took in shallow breaths, shock rendering her otherwise motionless. \n\n_Don't you ever wonder what she looks like when she's not shifted?_ Lyra remembered her brother asking her once. Lior's curiosity of Selkie had always been different from hers. He seemed to wonder more about the conditions of her freedom, unlike Lyra's obsession with furthering the slave's torment. At the time, she remembered dismissing him — probably because the question had come after Selkie had scratched her. Still emotionally wounded, Lyra had simply scoffed.\n\n_Probably just as ugly,_ she'd said. Lior didn't have much to say about it after that.\n\nIt was probably because he'd hoped Lyra was wrong. Silently, he must have hoped to see beauty from Selkie one day. He'd always been the optimistic type.\n\nAs Selkie breathed in her freedom, Lyra swallowed, needing to wiggle her toes to come back to herself. Her eyes settled cautiously on the girl's fair skin, shrouded by her rusty hair. The sound of her cries and laughter... It made something in Lyra ache. The mask kept her empathetic nature dull. But then, she'd always been a bit cold and skeptical of emotional realities apart from her own. They'd never felt as important. But now, Selkie's relief felt.. Contagious. Lyra's fingers felt numb, heart still racing. Were her hands even.. Sweating? The guilt felt stifling.\n\nLyra unclasped her cloak and started handing it to Viper, turning as if to leave.\n\n\"You can give her this to wear,\" She said. \"I'll head back to Trip, and—\"\n\nBut Viper gripped her shoulder, his grip firm even through her armor. \n\n\"Unhand—\" She started saying, lifting her chin to correct him with nothing short of fury. But he looked back at her, eyes set with as much intensity. He looked.. Disappointed.\n\n\"See this through,\" He said, his voice low. His grip didn't let up.\n\nIt was all she could do to stare him down, too. A small challenge. But it was clear he wasn't going to let her run away. It didn't seem to matter how long she stood there, sticking to her silent protest. \n\nEventually, Lyra sucked her teeth, the short, sharp sound muffled just slightly by her mask. She yanked her shoulder from Viper's grip and released a pent-up breath, peeling her gaze away only to turn toward Selkie.\n\nHer cloak felt like a meager offering, held gingerly in Lyra's hands. She approached the girl slowly, as if walking toward a wounded animal. A yard away, Lyra knelt. Only her eyes betrayed her mood. But they weren't unkind. Indeed, they seemed a bit fearful. If Selkie decided to run, now, there was no hope for a smooth(ish) return to Azarya. But for some reason, that outcome wasn't what made her feel so on edge. It was a similar feeling she'd experienced as a child, after being scolded to apologize to Lior for some menacing act of hers. Of course, he'd always forgive her, probably just as threatened under the stern ire of their mother's stare. But what if he didn't? That possibility had always made Lyra say her sorry's through tears. \n\nThere were none, today. Just a similar anxiety.\n\n\"You can have this, if you want,\" She said, trying to strike a gentle tone. Still, she wanted to seem indifferent. Not ironically doting, like Freya. It was hard to tell if the attempt was successful. \"The walk to our cart isn't far.\""
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Selkie N'yenskor\nNorthwind\n\nFor some time, Selkie was immobilized by her relief. She was unable to comprehend the world beyond the sensation of touch, the feeling of her warm skin like a peach, the feeling of her own dexterous, *Human* Fingers. Her digits were splayed out across her cheeks, gently pinching what fat deposits were there. Her right hand hastily moved to the fiery tresses of her hair. She weaved thick strands through her porcelain fingers, combing through a years-unfelt mane - proud as a lion's - marveling at its immense volume. Incredulously, she lifted a heavy loc. Selkie seemed unperturbed by the forest debris her hair gathered from the ground. Were it not for the context of her beastly form, Selkie would have been a portrait of beauty: of freckled skin, of youthful innocence, of gentle eyes and a doe's heart. \n_ _\n\nThe last time she assumed that form was in a cage. The last time a human had known her visage - her own humanity - was through bars. As the immediate, blinding elation subsided, Selkie was left with a bittersweet, gnawing nostalgia. Now what? Selkie never considered herself beyond the collar and never plotted beyond its removal, like it trapped her rebellious thoughts alongside her body. She was human and alone on a foreign stage with a phantom of her past. She was liberated, yet she never felt more stagnant - more isolated. Could she survive alone? Selkie had not met the world without company, had not existed without supervision. Selkie's teary gaze flicked onto Lyra. She attempted to rise, but her legs were flimsy, still weak from her shift. Those unreliable muscles quivered before Selkie collapsed forward. A humiliated, furious flush quickly spread across her face. Grunting, she pressed her palms to the ground and strained to stand. Stabilizing herself on all fours, she began straightening her legs, leaving her hands planted in the dirt. In this tripedal position, Selkie gingerly managed to ease herself onto her feet. She was notably diminutive, far shorter - and more petite - than both Lyra and Viper.\n\nShe dared to place one foot in front of another. However, she was so unacquainted with walking - especially without counterbalancing a heavy top half - she immediately stumbled and toppled. Sighing, Selkie looked up to Lyra disgracefully."
}
] | 603 | 2,646 |
236.2 | 2024-01-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila Vema \nNorthwind\n\nMarsila didn't believe him truthfully, yet she kept her doubts about his behaviour to herself and instead focused on their journey ahead. \"That makes the both of us.\" \n\nShe listened as he explained his issue with his memory or lack therof, followed by his uncertainty on the realism the memories brought back. Marsila felt herself relating to Arin whenever she found herself in a shift. Her memory within the animalistic state felt like a dream and at times, couldn't tell whether it happened during an actual shift or within her dreams as she slept. \n\nWhen Arin changed the topic, it didn't go unnoticed. Instead, she let it be and played along with his new topic. She looked down towards her stallion who was unbothered by their journey, enjoying the distance as he was used to long distance travels with his handler. \n\nMarsila then looked towards the man she partnered with, nodding in agreement while pulling the reigns to a halt. \"I'm happy to rest but how much further do you think we have until we reach Terrasol?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "`Az'maveth\nNorthwind-Forest`\n\nNew persons had entered the forest. He could feel it in the trees and in the wind, their scent traveled through his domain like a light wisp. He was asleep in his Ivy when he carefully peeled his eyes open, looking through the greenery toward the direction of the trail leading to Terrasol.\n\nHe sat up and stretched, looking up as the sun was moving to settle in the horizon, peering through the trees and telling him goodnight. He must have napped longer than intended. He moved to stand. \n\nHis inky hands combed through the ivy as he stood, gently rubbing the back of his tangled crimson hair with a lazy yawn.\n\nHe began to carefully step through the forest. Every root and branch avoided caused his trek to be silent and swift, as he knew the forest better than people know themselves. Tall trees began to thin as he approached the road, and looked along it to spot his new visitors. Ah, just up there. He smiled to himself and crouched down, watching from afar, his equally crimson eyes locked in on every movement he could make out. \n\nHe couldn't hear them from this distance, but what they said hardly mattered to him. He wanted to see if they'd play a game... Perhaps keep-away, or catch the hog. He did so like being chased. \n\nMoving back into the growing shadows, he skirted around them. They'd have to settle somewhere, somewhere close by. He wanted to see if there was something they'd chase him for."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton\nNorthwind\n\nArin shivered as the cold wind from the late evening whistled through the trees. The deerskin jacket needed repairing, but for now it was all he had. His hands were gripped tightly around the reins of the horse, and he did all he could to ignore the cold. \n\n\"As long as we don't get snowed in, at most a day. There are dark clouds brewing in the east that I am beginning to be nervous about, but we should be fine.\" Arin said, unsure who he was trying to convince. He glanced around, before looking at the sky. \n\n\"We used to hate it when it snowed. Rain's bad enough. Mix in the cold and the way it just sticks to everything? Impossible to deal with.\" Arin said, filling the silence so his brain couldn't catch up. He pointed over at a clearing in the forest, before checking his pack. \n\n\"We can set the tents there. Use some of the nearby trees to create some guard against the air.\" He said, bringing his horse to stop next to hers. \"Unless you have a better plan?\" He offered."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila Vema\nNorthwind\n\nShe thought of the choices they could make and decided it would be best to rest and recover. From the look of the weather that was creeping towards them, the two may experience some colder temperatures over the night but fortunately they had enough coverings and fabric with them from the group that attacked them a few days earlier. \n\n\"No, I agree with you.\" She pulled the reigns in, bringing her stallion to a halt before looking towards Arin. His skin paled significantly to a blue hue compared to Marsila's own fair skin. \n\nWhen Marsila dismounted her horse, she didn't bother to tie his rope to a branch as it was at no risk of running away. Instead, she began going through the packs the horses carried. She managed to pull out a couple strips of jerky before moving onto the packs containing thick fabric that would defende them from the wind and snow. \"I think we should set up camp and then search for some wood to light a fire. Otherwise you have a chance of falling ill.\" \n\nMarsila chewed on the Jerky as she started on the camp, finding her stomach turning from hunger as the small peice of meat barely satisfied her."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "`Az'maveth\nNorthwind`\n\nHe silently watched, creeping around them behind bushes. He smiled warmly at them. \n\nA lovely camping trip. He thought to himself how perfect the spot they picked was. It was a soft bed of grass, with enough rocks around to have a practical fireplace, and to weigh down the edges of their tents. \n\nHe began to scan their belongings lazily, his eyes flittering over every little thing. He began picking his teeth while he waited. He had to grab the stuff he could play around with when they were a good distance away. Close enough to see and give chase, but far enough they wouldn't catch him so fast."
}
] | 240 | 1,181 |
342 | 2024-01-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Arin Cragton \nNorthwind\n\n\"We should hunt as well. Our supplies are running low. But that's an issue for early morning. You are right. I am shivering so much, and my hands are losing feeling.\" He said, blowing heat into his hands to warm them up. He pulled a small axe and cleared out some of the underbrush. \n\nIt wasn't long before the pair had a small camp set up. The movement kept Arin warm, but the night kept approaching. He knew before too long they would need to have that fire going. \n\n\"I'll go grab some wood.\" He said shivering. He glanced around, before grabbing the axe from earlier. It did not take long to find wood, but dragging it took longer than he expected. He grabbed as much as he could, lugging the larger logs behind him as he stacked the wood as close to their tents as he could. He placed them underneath the flaps of his own tent, safe from any snowfall that would occur that night. He kneeled in the center of their tents and cleared off the ground. He made a circle out of rocks before building a small pyramid out of sticks. He set a piece of kindling in the center before lighting it with the flint and steel he carried. He held his hands out as the flames grew, eagerly licking the dry logs. \n\n\"There. Maybe.. Just maybe that'll help.\" He said quietly.\n\nLevi Cortez\nNorthwind\n\nLevi shook his head, a motion hidden as best as he could by the hood covering his head. He lowered it so that those in view could see his face, now twisted into a scowl. \n\n\"Do not assume what my men are capable of. Gold means little to them. They've tasted finer things. However...\" He said, forcing the calm smile to reappear back on his face.\n\n\n\"One quarter will do. However, it would do well for your men to secure your land first. Even after we drive out the Harrowicks, there will still be common bandits and the like. There are those who have not joined the Eclipse, and those men are not to be underestimated. When my men depart, keep your men at the ready.\" He said, before glancing around the table at the other men present.\n\n\"Now, are there any objections?\" He asked, looking into the eyes of each man present. None of them met his gaze. He felt a silent fury burning deep within his body. \n\n\"No? It is decided then.\" Levi said, glancing down at Satella. \"I will join you in driving out the Harrowicks. Should you need supplies, get them now. My men and I will ride out in the morning.\" He said, before standing up. \n\n\"Now, unless there is anything else, I have preparations to make.\" He said."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila Vema \nNorthwind\n\nMarsila was relieved that they were able to set up their small camp with ease and made her way towards her Stallion, brushing his nose in comfort. She reached towards her quiver and the blood tipped arrows that had been used previously. She turned to face Arin as he sat by the fire.\n\n\"I will go find us some food since I have the energy and I don't feel as bothered by the cold compared to you.\" She gave a small smirk towards her teasing tone at his vulnerability.\n\nHer eyes scanned the horizon, her eyes narrowed as she observed for any sign of movement. With her bow slung over her shoulder, Marsila moved further out, knowing she would have to put some distance between her and the camp before she had the chance at coming across some form of prey. As Marsila ventured further into the wilderness, her senses heightened. The biting cold seemed to fade into the background as she focused on the task at hand. Her footsteps matched the rhythm of her racing heartbeat, each stride purposeful and confident.\n\nSuddenly, a distant rustle caught Marsila's attention. She crouched low in the underbrush, her bow at the ready and arrow notched. She scans the surrounding area for any movement, his sharp eyes trained to spot even the smallest twitch of an animal's ear or tail. Then she caught sight of it, a boar.\n\nThe bowstring felt taut against her fingers, ready to be released at the perfect moment. She watched as it rooted around in the undergrowth, unaware of her presence. Calculating the distance and angle, Marsila slowly drew back the bowstring, feeling the familiar tension building in her muscles. Her breath steadied, matching the rhythm of her heartbeat.With a swift release, the arrow soared through the air, arcing gracefully towards its intended target. The arrow found its mark with precision, piercing through the boar's hide, causing it to let out a surprised squeal before collapsing onto the forest floor."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Az'maveth \nNorthwind\n\nMarsila heard it first, after she struck the boar with her arrow. A well aimed shot, and a powerful moment of the boar dying in one single movement. It was... Laughter. Not hearty and loud, but small and mischievous, a giggle.\n\nArin heard it second. The laugh was just off to his side now, and he could turn and see a roughly 6 foot tall man rifling through the saddlebags on the horses. \n\nOddly enough, it was as if the horses didn't notice him. Or, perhaps they didn't care. He was covered from head to toe in black ink, and didn't seem struck by the cold like the other two.\n\n\"What's yours is yours, what's yours is mine~\" He said playfully, to himself, but then his head snapped to Arin's direction. Scarlet hair, and matching eyes looked the camper up and down, and his eyes blinked independently from one another. It gave him an unsettling, uncanny sense to him.\n\n\"Are you nice and cozy?\" He asked directly this time."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Albert Rhoderick\nIron Gate\n\nAlbert's lip curled into a sneer as he watched the storm cloud brewing over Levi. What a man to question the integrity of! And of his men? Laughable. Levi was so blinded by *Good* And his own pride in his *Integrity* That he would trip over everything else to maintain those things. A fool, really, but it was even more amusing to see someone question him and watch Levi stew over it. \n\n\"And I,\" Albert said, slapping his hands on his knees and standing, \"Will lead our men to Rivers Peak and take care of the traitors.\" *And leave you to babysit...* He added mentally."
}
] | 321 | 1,368 |
187.333333 | 2018-11-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "Damien had watched over the seas silently as he had waited for his recently legitimised Brother David, Damien after he had watched for a good hour stepped back inside into the throne room Damien had gave the room a glance around, Damien had remembered how silent the room was when he had ruled over the Horn Hills that all changed after he had been forced by David legitimise him or face death by his hand ,even with these thoughts that had echoed in Damien's mind he still had felt that silence in the room, after he'd let out a sigh Damien once again as he had took his seat in the throne silently waiting to be of use for House Brass once again ."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Jaxon pulled the thick leather cloak around his face, shielding himself from the wisps of icy spray coming off the water. He and a small group of men had come ashore, behind him, a small longboat rest against the coastline. \n\n\"I hate the True North.\" Olander muttered. Jaxon scoffed at the oaf. He knew little to nothing about the Horn Hills, but nonetheless was sent here for a reason. He was supposed to have commune with the leader of House Brass.\n\n He was a Northerner himself, from a small fishing village outside The Iron Gates. One thing had lead to another, however, and he found himself the captain of a small group of marauders. It was quickly becoming too cold to sail, and in about a month the waters around here would likely freeze solid, making it near impossible to traverse without an icebreaker at the bow. \"This place isn't worth the salt its built on. Let's hope they need our help.\""
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "Damien had been sat silently until one of the few guards that hadn't been taken by the so call King of the Sea David, The House Brass guard approach and kneed at Damien and had said \"Lord Damien a bunch of outsiders have arrive at the docks\", Damien raised his eyebrows with sight concern and said \"Are they armed?\" He bit his lip sightly as he awaited the guards answer. The Guard has shaken his head \"No clear way of telling my Lord Damien\" , Damien had thought for a moment with his brother away The Horn Hills where under his protection he couldn't afford to make a mistake he had thought , Damien breathed deeply and sighed before he said \"Ask the guards to be check them for weapons not normal for just tradesmen, If nothing is found leave them be but if any weaponry is found bring them here with care\". The Guard nodded before rushing off and had made his way to the docks to inform the other guards on his orders from Lord Damien Brass , as Damien sat silently as he watched the Guard rush off and then turned to one of his servants \"Get me a drink please I think I'll need it\"."
}
] | 200 | 562 |
366.470588 | 2019-01-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "[This takes place in a flashback]\n19. She was 19. Izojnir'd just set off on her journey, and was a scant 30 miles from her village. She'd already had ideas on how the wolrd would end; perhaps she would splitnthe ground by soulspeaking to it? Maybe the great sky woud collapse? Maybe the seas would rize and leave in thwir wake cold destruction?\n\nThe more she thought about it, the more she urged hrself to hurry. She had much to see, before this world ended. More accurately, before she ended it. A great deal of the coast she saw now, even so (relatively) close to her home, was new to her. She'd never been fishing, let alone on a boat, and had never come this far. She'd never before let the village escape the horizon; looking over her shoulder, she confirmed with herself that she was not going back. She continued on.\n\nFor several days, she walked, resting in the dead of night before carrying on. She often stopped to go down by the shore, picking through shells that had washed ashore. One of the snails was still alive. She dropped it, a chill shooting up her spine; she should not touch that snail. It was barely clinging to the last threads of life, but it seemed capable of easily taking hers, however that may be. So distracted was she by the slug, that she didn't see two other travelers coming down the road; both men, in black, wearing bowler hats and heavy cloaks, faces masked. Highway robbers. Not suspecting a thing, she turned toward the two just as they nearwd her; she was quick enough to put up her gaurd, but not quick enough to avoid a strike to her side.\n\n\"Come on, now, surely you habe something.\" One chuckled. \"It'll all be over quicker, if you just fork over that statchel of yours.\" The other grunted, beckoning for her to theow it to them. She brandished her axe, holding it pathetically before herself. \"....Stay back. Stay. Back.\" She grunted."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Nestled on some oversized tree at the middle of the day, a being wrapped in dead leaves and twigs made his appearance from a most cumbersome sleep. Who thought it was a good idea to bench his back against a frigid trunk and close his eyes surrounded by nature to conceal his presence? It paid off with no logical reason ascertained, thus the man ignored his own frustration at a sore body and rose from where he sat on, dropping what had covered him earlier.\n\nHuman sounds made his ears perk and gaze wander off to their source. He did not have a clear view, thus the wanderer moved. He stepped through the winter branch of the tree and skipped to another one, choosing which wisely at a time. At the edges of the arid forest, where the ground is permeated with brown leaves in contrast to the black of tall flora, he could witness the happening at the coast not far off. A woman was approached by two men, two robbers by their outfit and slandering words. What a waste of human breath the latter were. He squinted his eyes and slid to the ground, the thump of his landing muffled by the snow.\n\nRekkan approached in a casual strut, red cloak hanging on his broad shoulders and draping with his movement forward. He rummaged with his hands under his garbs and fidgeted the hidden blade with a thick digit.\n\n\"What a party you are having here. I didn't know about it. Why was I not invited?\" He said, his voice drawing on a guttural and coarse tone, almost inhuman. Rekkan glanced at the girl for a smirk and a nod, subtle the two, then turned to the men."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "Watching with suspicious eyes, she figured this red-cloaked man, initially, might be a third lerson she must deal with. She wasn't sure how to deal with this situation, so she just attempted to menacingly pose with her axe. She grimaced, her eyes like underwhelming daggers, dangerous, but not frightening. It was more easy to say that she was the one who manifested the fear in this one spot.\n\n\"Another one? This one looks rich. Tell you what, mate. Pay up, we let the girl go. Don't pay, we'll have a go at her. Not only that, but you'll be under the snow with a knife in your neck.\" Ths theif said, brandishing a rather long dagger, that could be easily used a a shortsword or dueling weapon, if need be.\n\nThe other bandit screamed; Izo's axe stuck haphazardly out of his shoulder. He staggered, but brandished his own; it may have sunk in, but the woman was not a particularly experienced individual to know what the optimal axe-sneek-attack locations were. She backed away from the man, slowly, as he began to.Close the distance. The other one glaced at this new sight. This was shaping up the completely opposite of.What he wantedm"
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rekkan read the situation in accordance to the participants and realized that the girl was in trouble. She was frightened and felt cornered, but she did not seem to have the experience to deal with the men. The wanderer was rather nonchalant about the threats that one brandished toward him, focused more on the girl that swung her axe and threw it, cleaving at the shoulder in a chance or talented attack. Either way, the man was pissed and eager to have his revenge on the girl.\n\nIt was clear that the other was not going to let Rekkan pass without a fight. But if he was a challenge, it was time to find out. The large red cloaked figure towered at six-two of height and his figure walked in a rather imposing and dauntless form. He cared little for the dagger in his adversary's hands and showed that with his pace quickening after each stride. The snow his feet sunk onto was crushed, rustling sounds echoed throughout the shore, less so audible than the wake of waves turning foam into the white coated coast.\n\nWithout a word, he was already pulling the Gift from the side of his right thigh. A large dagger in its own right, held by callused and experienced fingers and palm. They wrapped tightly around it as he moved, shifting his body right for a feint before tumbling left. In that second step, he took action on intent, sizzling the wind with his flesh cutter in a space which the tip would try to cut the throat of the man, sever it to the point the extreme edge grazed the bone of the spine. If he succeeded, the blood would leak like a fountain gushing onward, a blood fall that drenched his black clothes and made his eyes bulge."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "The one who faced the wandwrwr figured he'd encountered some sort of barbarian, and reacted accordingly. \"Go ahead, put yourself right on tht tip of my-\" He began, plunging his arm forward in an attempt to stab the man in the chest. His voice was interrupted by the obvious: a dagger cleaving into his throat, slashing across his neck with little in the way of resistance. The highwayman fell, dropping his dagger, clutching at his own neck in panic and disarray. The other prepared to stab the girl, taking his time; it was inconceivable that his partner might have fallen so quickly.\n\nIzojnir wasn't paying attention to anyone else; she was focused on slowly backing away from the man, trying her hardest to maintain enough diatance that a move on the bandit's behalf would not end her own. \"Girly, you'll be sorry you stuck that ace right there. I want you to focus on it.\" He chuckled. \"I'll take my time with you, watch you squirm.\" He snickered, slowly raising the knife. He assumed a hunched position. \"When am I gonna strike, hmm, girly?\" He chuckled, preparing to lunge at the insolent woman who'd dare offer such resistance when she barely knew how to swing an axe."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The dagger's cut gave birth to a crimson flood that did not only spill outward. It clogged the throat and made the highwayman choke on his own blood. His eyes bulged in horror, for that was the death that he arranged onto others more than once, perhaps. If one's life were to flash before his eyes, would he smile or cry? In the bandit's case, he may as well weep, for there was no one to mourn his death. The guttural sounds that came from the back of his throat were all but muffled by his partner's ramblings and the rush of adrenaline in the chase, which also concealed the continued motion of the wanderer's feet.\n\nThe slash was executed with a turn of the whole body. It was momentum en mass with a limb stretched outward more than a time longer than the victim. That was why it was possible for Rekkan to bring an end to his enemy's life. His right foot was the one that led his upper body to shift to the left as the throat was struck, followed by a step forward that ignored the petrified stare of the dying man. His vision first turned watery and tearful, then numb and void.\n\nThe second roguish fool could not be less aware. If ignorance is bliss, then the bandit was dying to go to heaven. Literally so, as the tale weaved showed. In his rush to scare the girl in an attempt to soil her pants and ease to groom the kill, his snicker failed. Behind and above his hunched form towered a red demon with glaring red eyes that the young girl could see as more daunting than the man threatening her. How could a savior look like a monster? His entire frame seemed shadowed by his dark intent, with only the glistening red of his orbs settling sight on the disgusting knave.\n\nThe same dagger that slitted the throat of his colleague gleamed through the dark red liquid that coated its edge. Droplets of blood splattered on the snow covered shore as the blade was shot at the right side, the crook of the villain's neck. Were him to ignore the sizzling sound, eight inches of intricately carved steel would impale his throat and put an end to him. A lazy reaction perhaps made it rip his Adam's apple instead. But Rekkan had the faint hope of him having a sixth sense, just to entertain him a little longer. That hope died quickly because he knew how fragile these rogues were. They were scourge. Worse than trash. And his aura, more so than his body, swallowed the bandit already."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "Izojnir'd widen her eyes, suddenly, and then... Scream. She may be poor at combat, but she wasn't poor in common sense. She'd make sure this man didn't hear his end coming, her sudden pitch catching him off gaurd, and leaving him blind to the sound of the incoming blade. He still held his smile, as the blade plunged into his neck, and quickly gave up on life. The pain was there, but so was releif; he figured it had to happen some way, some how.\n\nAt least he didn't suffer, right?\n\nIzojnir held an apologetic look in her eyes. Her innocence maintained, despite the two men causing her panic. As the man inevitable fell to the ground, she stooped over, eyeing the remaining man cautiously. He was massive. Scary. He'd killed them both like a wolf, ripping at their throats. He was a wolf in a cloak. She wrapped her fingers around the axe, pulling it free with such fervor that she ended falling onto her rear. She stared up at the man, axe held in both hands, determined to protect herself from the same fate as the two men. Perhaps... Perhaps she could... Diffuse this situation?\n\n\"....We both wear red.\" She pointed out, moving to slowly remove the blood from her axe with the hem of the bandit's shirt."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "They were both dead. The two bandits were now lumps of flesh and bones, blood spilling onto the ground to slowly puddle around their heads. One was lying on his back, the other on his gut. That was the only difference between their then rotting carcasses.\n\nRekkan removed the blade as fast as he plunged it in the man's neck. He watched him fall limp and was lazy to draw his gaze at the girl he saved. She looked fragile, but her will was not shook. If it was, she was doing a good job hiding it. She felt fright, but not fear. It did not consume her. In the silence that ensued, she was first to break it with a most casual observation.\n\nThey wear red. Rekkan's blank expression drew a smirk that was quick to rip into a full on chuckle. He tilted his head back and his shoulders shuddered as much as his chest did. She had no need to grip her axe, but one could not be too cautious. He was indeed a wolf ripping the throats of prey, and she could have been one were she in the wrong side at the right time. But she was not. She was a being that reeked of weakness and the man almost pitied her then. He stopped laughing only to look down at her in more than the literal sense. The chuckle ceased to let the years old haughty smirk prevail.\n\n\"Are you hungry?\" Rekkan asked, reaching out the girl with his right hand, right after swapping his blade and letting the digits of his left hand lazily play with it, let the dagger twirl around them four before resting on the palm, with fingers and thumb wrapped around it.\n\n\"Come. I have food and water in my camp.\"\n\nThe promise was perhaps too good to hear after the dark brooding experience, but it was sound and true. His voice was bone chilling, though. Not outright monstrous, but in limbo of man and beast."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "Izo's eyes focused on him, the cautious, detail-focused eyes of a girl who'd obviously not been around much. She nodded, slowly, and placed her hatchet back into the sheathe on her statchel, one hand moving forward with a slow, creeping motion, before finally accepting his hand. She inhaled, and then sighed, her eyes now focused on his dagger.\n\nIf she was going to die, he'd have killed her by now. That was certain. He took too little time in his motions. He was quick. Patient, but the limit between pateince and action was, she decided, very thin. Lime her grandmother, perhaps.\n\n\"I am... Greatful. There is no way I could have fended them both off... Let alone... One \" She admitted. \"Were they desperate? Is the land in such wastes that people assault each other for sustenance?\" She asked. Perhaps that was how the world was ending. Not enough food? The only meant she'd need to move with hastened pace. She had suddenly gone from meek, to impatient, in that one instant, a flip of emmotions not normally associated with those who had nearly tasted the end of a blade.\n\n\"Let us go, then.\" She demanded, her expression now blank, unassuming, unnafected."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "His dark browns settled on the girl's focus and observed her, studied her. She turned from frightened to cautious, but she accepted his hand. She could feel its warmth and the calluses on his palm the rugged sensation of scarred flesh wrapping around her dainty hand, her slender fingers surrounded by his thick digits. The blade that stole her attention was cleaned on the snow, turning the white red with a stab and a rip of the ground. He then removed the blade and slid it under his cloak. It seemed like be was rummaging through his garbs, though it was plain sheathing the blade back in its holster.\n\n\"They were not desperate.\" He answered plainly. \"They were greedy.\"\n\nWinter could be harsh, but the desperate were not the hunters that stalked the wild, but the beggars and drifters that haunted the streets of villages and towns. Those men were hunters too, poachers of royal grounds and killers of unsuspecting travelers. The bad side of predators. \"Mourn not their deaths.\" As he found out quickly, she would not.\n\nIzojnir changed her attitude, her hand pulled towards the man at the same time she turned from the feeble little girl to an impatient teen. Her features changed as well, drawing a stoic charm about her. But he assumed little and hesitated less, turning on his heel to guide her into the woods and through their trails.\n\nThey came upon what looked like a chaotic pile of leaves and twigs, much like how he found himself waking up not far from that location. He let go of her hand then and swept the campfire and meager tent into clear sight, pushing the flora camouflage from them. From inside the tent he removed a canteen with fresh water.\n\n\"Drink.\""
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "She paused, puing from him to run back to theie corpses. She turned them over; puing them side-by-side, she faced them towards the shore. This took time, but she insisted on doing it herself, careful not to get blood on herself. \"The ground will take you back, even if no one else would. If it does not, your souls are damned.\" She said, packing snow over both of their eyes.\n\nShe ran to catch up to Rekkan again, her somewhat heavyset steps bringing her closer witb every stride. She certainly wasn't short; depending on how she stood, she seemed to linger between five-nine and five-eleven, wich wasn't exactly much shorter than Rekkan was. Had she had a bigger hatchet, she might have just been left alone. She ducked into the campsite, somewhat enamored by his seculsion, the excellence of something being hidden away like this. However, she had little time to focus on that, for he'd already given her a canteen. She drew back, suprised by such abruptness, but ultimately took it, nodding in kind. She drak from the bottle, careful not to spill anything; five swallows, her mother had said. That is polite. She handed the device back to him, patting the snow off of her knees.\n\n\"Are there many people like that?\" She asked, speaking of the two men."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The girl was an abnormality among humans, though not so much that he would call her mad. She seemed to want to give them some kind of proper rest, even after what they tried to do to her. With her. He acknowledged her. He respected her then. A nod reflected that, sudden and subtle.\n\nAt camp, the man gathered the twigs and dead leaves to cast them into the middle of the small ashen pit surrounded by stones and pebbles. Rekkan moved his right hand over the mix and made it a living match, dropping an ember that shimmered and heated the branches it nestled into until it made a spark of fire. She did not have the answer to her question right away, nor was the canteen retrieved. A thin trail of smoke erupted before Rekkan's attention was drawn to her. A small flame was born and fed off the fuel it was given. A larger log was added to make the new fire burn brighter and hotter. It staved off the cold of winter but not the swirling wind. The tendrils of red and orange danced with the currents.\n\nThe wanderer rose from next to the fire and took a step to the young woman's front. She was not much shorter than him, but he could still look down in the proximity of their bodies. She had a plump form to her cheeks and her shape, seemingly strong, but yet to be adapted to the harsh life on the road. Her eyes were riddled with wanderlust, perhaps, a tiny bit of experience, but much naivety. Rekkan took the canteen in his right hand and pulled away, taking a sip. He felt the moisture of her saliva on the neck of the bottle. It was warm.\n\nRekkan set the canteen aside and wiped his lips with his left hand's knuckles. He pursed his lips after the fact and then kept a stoic form to his facial features. Apart from a mild look of an age hidden in the thirties, his skin was marked by scars of different types. Contrast to the soft and clean features of the girl standing before him.\n\n\"There are.\" Rekkan replied. \"There are others that are much worse too. They prey on the unsuspecting victims, luring them to their camps to take them away.\" The same smirk from earlier bloomed. \"But you will be safe with me. For now.\"\n\n\"Do you want to eat...?\""
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "The girl seated herself before the fire, a small smile upon her features, as she raised her hands to the growing flames. She tilted her head. Magic. He knew magic. She'd already been warned so many times about mages. How they took nature, perverted it under their own will, and cast it out to harm the very thing that gave them such power. She'd never been able to grasp that; to use nature, one must be in tune with it, no? Besides, the old man who'd told her this had been frozen, permanently, his soul apparently rejected by the earth. So why listen to someone so out of place, so out of touch?\n\nShe said nothing about wanting to learn. Not yet. She had hardly a fix on soulspeaking. There was little reason to add something else. She instead focused on his words, looking up from the fire as she began to pry off her boots. She'd wraps instead of socks, but they worked just as well. Her belongings were quality made.\n\n\"I would hope so. If something can overpower you, I will have little hope than to run.\" She said, offering a somewhat cheesy smile. She fiddled with her oddly-tied hair, pulling her knees up. She warmed herself against the flame.\n\n\"They say the south has lands so warm that no one needs fire, except to cook. I want to travel there. I haven't seen such a place. A place where life is... Everywhere, and not just fleeting in the shearing season.\" Ahe said, speaking of sheep. \"And speaking of food. Yes. I would like to. I fear-\" She began. \"I fear I am taking advantage of your hospitality. But I will assuredly find a way to repay you.\" She said. Her voice carried with it a very faint accent; perhaps comparable to real-world slavic, perhaps french. Italian, maybe. It was hard to place. A remnant of a long-dead language. She'd completely missed the point of his statement about camps. She just figured he was kind enough to give her warning of such... People."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Magic was intricate, both in design and application. There was no simple magic, only stronger minds or souls, depending from which the raw energy was manipulated and given form out in the sinews of reality. Rekkan was not a mage, he did not see himself as one. He was more akin to a warrior that stumbled upon an event that changed him, more or less, in more ways than he could understand, even comprehend himself.\n\nHe did not wait for her to reply again. His body was already shifting and crawling close to the tent to let his hands rummage through the interior. There were meats from the previous dusk, deer and boar he had hunted and preserved with a saline solution taken from the sea. The wanderer dragged a chunk of the meat out and pulled out his dagger when he sat in front of the fire. Izojnir was to his left and barefoot, only wrapped in cloth that made her toes peek out and warm to the flames. He moved the blade over the fire and let it burn microbes and germs away, making it pure to the tender flesh of deer he cut.\n\nRekkan smirked at her comment and cheesy smile, nodding both true. \"I find it hardly a possibility. Tsk.\" He said, focusing on the cooking of the meat. It was rather simple to do so, setting the hilt in the ground to make the meat hang up and cook. As he waited, he listened to her speak of the southern parts of Marin. Wasn't he there some months ago? He was traveled.\n\n\"A chance meeting.\" Rekkan said. \"I journey south, though not as far as where the sun scorches the earth. At least not again for now.\" He looked to the side of the beef and saw it cooked. He turned it around for the other side to go.\n\n\"Well done or rare?\" The wanderer asked. He ignored her words about repaying her debt to him. Over the years, one tends to let go of expectations, as many times over they were shallow words, empty promises. It could be true or not with the girl, it was just a general perspective of things. Callused, cold."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "She watched him work, head titlted as he rummaged theough his supply. He knew the wildlands. She knew, too, but she was nowhere near as preoared as he. She would likely hunt for voles and rabbits, both of wich child's play for her to catch, if she were prepared. Perhaps even a snake, though those were harder to prepare. She listens to him speak.\n\n\"What of a white bear? Can you overpower that?\" She asked, reaching out to touch his arm. She let her fingers squeeze at his muscle. Lean, like a moose. He was stronger than most men in her village... If not that, then simply less privileged to sit around in the colder months.\n\n\"Wgat can you tell me of the lands south of here? They are were I'm headed. I would like to know of who lives there. What it it li-\" She paused, as he asked his next question about food.\n\n\"Erm-\" She began, before reaching her hand out to take the dagged from him. She had a focus in her eyes; she knew what she wanted, but not how to explain it. She lowered her hand, and then spoke, instead. \"Pink. There should be pink in the middle. If the flavor has left, one has disrespected the kill.\" She said, with a shallow nod."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "There was a mystical glow to the fire that sprouted from the shattered ember that the wanderer created. It burned with chirps of wood and leaf, warming the body and the soul as much as it cooked the first chunk of meat that the man arranged. It was not different from the flames that sparkled from flint and tinder.\n\nRekkan felt the girl's touch and turned his eyes first to the fingers that felt his arm and then to the eyes of the young woman. She studied his lean muscle with promise, her gaze focused on the lines of each muscle and veins that coursed and coiled around his limb. She made the most curious of questions about man versus wild. Particularly about man versus a giant of a bear. He smirked. Rekkan flicked his wrist, turning his hand around and simply repeated her action, grasping the plump girl's arm from under her and feeling the soft skin and flesh mold with his touch, the coil of fleshy tendrils around her.\n\n\"Overpower... Perhaps...\" He muttered with the same smirk etched on his lips. \"But I can definitely outsmart it.\"\n\nThe wanderer glared at Izojnir with squinted eyes and a darker, deeper smirk that stretched slowly into a grin. It faded as she continued with her question, but he interrupted her for the important sake of having her answer on taste. She had a sensible notion of what was good steak. Rekkan let the meat cook the necessary time and pulled it away when he had the gut feeling it was at the right spot. The first one to be served was the girl. The man did not have plates or anything of the sort, so she had to make do with her bare hands. It was hot, but the man offered her his dagger to hold the steak on and use her teeth to shred through. She would see the pinkish coloration inside the steak when she took the first bite.\n\n\"Good answer.\" He said with a firm nod.\n\n\"As to your question, there are many distinct traits about the lands south. Plains beyond what the eye can see or forests thick and vibrant with life. Large cities with a life of their own, brimming with people and things. Not like the dreaded quiet of the Witherlands.\""
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "She bit into the steak, her teeth tearing into the flesh, eyes dulling into satisfaction. This was delicious. She chewed through the meat, before swallowing, once more offering a gaze at the man, listening to his tales. \n\n\"...It is quiet here?\" She asked, raising a brow. \"The earth always speaks. There is always noise.\" She said, not understanding how something could be so noisy in the first place. The sea was noisy, she knew of that. Perhaps that's what he meant. \"The sounds are greater in the townes?\" She asked, titling her head.\n\nSurely he had a better explanation. She couldn't quite fathom so many people, either. She fell silent, eating the meat instead. Perhaps it was a better idea to be quiet. She chewed her steak in silence, in no rush to leave the comfort of the fire. \"How long will you be staying out here?\" She asked, in between mouthfuls. She was quickly whittling the steak down to only a small ring around the tip, wich she carefully removed with her teeth, before sticking the blade back in the flames."
}
] | 359 | 6,230 |
276 | 2019-01-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "He watched her eat. Izojnir's eyes gleamed satisfied with the meat inside of her mouth, making her cheeks almost puff out with the amount she drove inside of her. She wondered why he would seem the Witherlands quiet. Then she said that the earth always spoke, that the sea always chanted. She was not wrong, but that required a level of perception coming from third eye and an acute sense of hearing beyond the fabrics of what is real for the commonfolk.\n\n\"You speak of wandering spirits and lost souls.\" Rekkan made the observation. \"Interesting. What do you hear?\"\n\n\"Have you ever been to a city? Its center has days when it is full of stalls and shops, people leaving and entering every day and creating rivers of flesh and bone that flood the streets. They shout prices and barter deals, the taverns are full of rowdy folk that sing along with the bard. The sounds are unlike nature or the ethereal. They are... Noisy. For the lack of a better term. The silent whispers of the dead, they are simpler. More... Tranquil.\" The wanderer spoke openly of his own ability as it seemed like the girl had one similar to it. Spirit walking, spirit talking.\n\nThe man let her finish her steak and stab the embers and ash with it. He followed in gripping the hilt and pulling it back, making use of the same dagger to cut his own steak and cook it in front of the flickering flames.\n\n\"I will spend another night, but it is not safe for you to be with me during the nighttime.\" He was mysterious about it. He did not give her a reason. But if she was a spirit talker, perhaps she could see beyond the skin, deeper within, an essence strange to the heart and soul of the common man. There was an appealing flame, a beacon of light that, if she was enticed by, who knew what manner of creatures chased after it? \"But I will leave that decision to you. Life is made of choices. Those choices will define you and help or hinder your growth.\""
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "\"Unsafe? Hmm. But you brought me here, telling me it *Would* Be safe.\" She said, offering him that curiosity once more. \"Tell me, then. What makes it unsafe?\" She asked, pulling her knees as far up as she could, resting her cheek on one.\n\nThe man held with him a strange alure, thkugh she attributed most of it to his excessive mystery. The .Ore he spoke, the more questions she had, and ask she would. It was something the simply hinged on relevance, at this point. She felt a need to ask only questions that... Made sense for the moment, if that makes sense.\n\n\"You are clearly abnormal. You do not seem a wild-man, and yet you have the characteristics of one.\" She said, kneading her fingers into her thigh as she spoke. \"Is that why you left the cities? Because you are dangerous to so many people?\" She asked.\n\nShe offered him a stale gaze, now, unchanging, clearly bent on receiving an answer. Now she wanted to know what he was. There were stories, nameless men who became beasts at night, but she had only ever heard this one combined with speculations on theever-changing moon.\n\n\"Is the moon going to change you?\" She asked, reaching an end to her train of thought."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "He did not lie. She was safer with him than she was alone. But the night held many secrets, even to those woke to the realm of spirits and more. \"The lingering souls of the dead hunger. They prey on life when life is brimming with energy. Energy that should be joined with theirs.\" Rekkan said. \"That is their limited trail of thought. Or perhaps it is mere instinct that drives them.\" He became a shaman to learn of these entities, to learn about himself, but introspection was always barred by some unknown barrier, a layer that deprived him of knowledge of the self.\n\nShe complimented him, in a way. She called him a wild man, which was more than the standard \"Monster\" Or \"Beast\" That civilized folk used to call him.\n\n\"Not exactly. If anything, it seems that being in such crowded places muddles my... Scent, if we can call it that.\" He shrugged his shoulders, noticing it was time to turn the steak to the other side. He did so after relaxing, almost slumping his shoulders. \"But why live in fear and shame? I can only find solace in the journey, thus I endure the night in my lonesome. I have had others that joined me before, but they never stayed for long after the first night.\" He nodded once, gazing at the fire. \"But we can be lucky tonight, the spirits may not be so restless. I only know when the time comes. Not beforehand.\"\n\nWhen the girl asked such a crude question, his dark browns turned to her stale gaze and crossed it. He peered into her soul through its windows, the two orbs.\n\n\"Perhaps.\" He muttered. It was nearly a growl. The flame sparked a loud and bright light with it. But it waned quickly enough. He grinned.\n\n\"The moon changes many men. Some become horrors. Others, the horrified.\""
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "She didn't say anything. She just grunted, offering a shallow nod in his direction.\n\nSuch a weird man.\n\n\"I will wait here, then. For nightfall. I want to see what yoh speak of. If the unclaimed roam these lands, I would not be much better on my own.\" She said, laying herself on her stomach, facing away frrom him. Her eyes watched the vegetation they had passed through that had brought them into this seclusion in the first place. Perhaps the answer would be found here. She looked over ber shoulder, over her rear, at him, rolling sideways momentarily to see what he was doing, before continuong her vigil.\n\nShe pulled her statchel closer to herself. If she needed her hatchet, she would be ready."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "She did not seem to understand that these spirits were drawn to him, hence why the night was dangerous when around him. But the man did not care. Instead, he pulled the steak away from the fire and used his bare hands to hold it, having placed his dagger by his right side. It was her choice, so he would have her feel that responsibility on her shoulders.\n\nTime moved forward, the pendulum kept swinging and swaying. He rose from the fire's side and focused on preparing for the coming night. There was no longer light from the sun, only the clarity that the fire provided. Rekkan found a branch that could act as a torch and lit it with its edge against the flames. He gazed at Izojnir to find her gazing back over her drawn out back and moundy rump. The scars on his face shimmered with the proximity of the torch's fire.\n\n\"They do not like the light. They are blinded by it.\" The wanderer taught her.\n\nThen what was darkness crept stronger around the camp. It loomed towards them as whispers of dread permeated the atmosphere with eery sounds, growls. The hungering spirits were drawn together to form dark entities of bitter hatred and hollow matter, ever seeking life to fulfill them. They stalked the camp, rising in numbers."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "She took hold of her hatchet, pulling on her boots. She reached into her statchel, and produced a peice of flint. She had a simple plan, with Rekkan's words in mind. She would blind any who got too close, with this. She had no clue what unclaimed looked like; just that her nana had told her to wary of them.\n\nSome unclaimed were like dead bodies, fozen by frost, whilst some were just like a man, but devoid of s heartbeat. Either way, she was told that unclaimed fed on the living. This... Didn't exactly voncern her much. Sho didn't feed at the cost of something else? A deer must die for her to eat from it.\n\nShe sakd nothing, for now, there was no need to make noise. Things would happen as they should. Fate was fate."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Their forms and sizes were fluid in each passing creature. Some were four legged monsters made of darkness and others were dead bodies, rotting corpses that were possessed by the combined efforts of dark natured souls that gave in to their taints of corruption.\n\nThe first wave shambles forth from the trees. They groaned and growled, zombies and prowling monsters that showed their brittle teeth or layered fangs. Rekkan took that one moment before the action to push his right arm to the side and open the hand, making the tattoo on it whirl and from it create flames that produced Fang. From its many shapes, the red sword took a shorter length to its blade to be wielded in the narrow space of the small clearing where the camp was located. Rekkan had to come up a bit more personal, but he did not mind this. He was used to it.\n\nThe wanderer began the slaughter, taking steps beyond the burning light that the sake beings slowly approached. When he did, some of the over eager ones pounced but met their ends with solid thrusts from Fang or hard bashes from his torch. Those that formed darkness were returned to the atmosphere, for they did not spill blood nor were matter any longer. The shambling corpses were the ones that remained and even were repossessed at times, making the man stomp moving hands under his heavy feet or crush skulls of wailing dead. The stench was awful, something the duo needed to survive as much as the seemingly endless supply of dark beings and corpses."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "It was not far from the truth for one to say that Izo was fascinated by this all, in a somewhat morbid manner of going about it. Ahe watched him fight with glee, striking down the unclaimed, watching bis motions, his movements. The smell did little to bother her; whale carcasses were somewhat worse. And they exploded. She'd hold her hatchet in one hand, accompanying him, her strikes taking of limbs, appendages, and generally being a decent help when it came to warding the massess off.\n\nShe giggled.\n\nThere had been little at home so exciting as this. Today, she's been almost robbed, found a man who uses magic, and is currently fighting the unclaimed, all three things, save for roberry, being unheard of. In her village, those who stole likely hadn't stored enough surplus grain, or had no way of repairing damaged clothing. She split the hand of a skeletal remant, before smacking the thing with the back of her hatchetz causing it to stumble, her attention shifting to a nearer one and essentially repeating this. It was brutally effective."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "It was routine to fight the ambulant dark spirits of the night. Rekkan eviscerated corpses and made guts spill onto the ground with his efforts, ruining carcasses until there were no more shambling monsters. Their physical efforts were ruined to retreat and reform as the same black entities that returned with a need for life. The insufferable creatures were slain yet again, then on their crude forms that deteriorated into the ether.\n\nThe Witherlands themselves had a lack of prospects for these vessel seeking beings, though sometimes they found the most dangerous trolls or wolves. In this night's particular case, the surroundings were tame enough and the monsters bereft of a true weapon to cause trouble. Rekkan appreciated that. An easier night, perhaps?\n\nIzojnir looked entertained. The wanderer glanced over his shoulder every now and again, watching her enjoy herself in the snapping of limbs and axing of bodies. Maybe she would feel a bit bored when the wave of zombies was finished, for the dark entities that tried to consume the warrior's life essence dissipated with heavy blows against their materialized black matter. But it didn't take long for their numbers to thin out, all until they turned into a bunch of smaller monsters that were stomped.\n\n\"It will take some time until their reform. Perhaps the rest of the night will be peaceful.\" He stated, but he didn't get his hopes up."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "Izo wondered if rekkan ever grew... Bored... Of this. Well, if that was the way to word it. If they attacked him every night, if they came after him every day, the monotony may be the thing to kill him, despite these unclaimed being unable to in the slightest. She brought her hachet down, in two-handed grip, on the head of one, and then kicked it away, body rolling violently. Perhaps, with practice, she could ensure no one bothered her on the road, ever again.\n\n\"They reform?\" She asked, staring out at the sea of gore. She'd never heard of them doing that, before. Then again, she'd also just never heard of them in the first place. Beings of shadow that crawled, beings of flesh that shambled, all unclaimed, all after the same strange prize. Perhaps they wanted his magic ability? Could they eat it? And... Speaking of.\n\n\"Can you burn them?\" She asked, wafting her hand at the corpses. \"Maybe that will ensure they do not get back up?\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Only the beings of darkness rose again. The rotten corpses were simple vessels that hosted their wicked intent until they fell. But as the night went on, Rekkan did pile the bodies of the once living and used his magics to begin a fire akin to a funeral pyre.\n\n\"Some do. But the pyre will scare them off to the fringes of darkness.\"\n\nAnd it did. In comparison with the campfire, the new light from the pyre exorcised the demons and scared them away to the dark recesses of the woods. As long as the bodies burned, the two would be relatively safe. That is unless the dark ones found something bigger to possess. With luck, the Witherlands lacked such a predator, at least in the nearest reaches of the camp.\n\n\"This is a good opportunity to rest.\" Rekkan stated, letting Fang withdraw back to flames that faded in the air. His cloak had cuts and tears. He removed it and laid it inside the tent. Izojnir could see then his taut figure better, beyond the arms. It was a mess of scars and bruises of different shapes and sizes, along with the lean musculature of an athletic warrior. Yet he boasted great strength and agility. He was rather surreal. The wanderer glanced over his shoulder to her. \"Are you not tired?\""
}
] | 273 | 3,036 |
323.666667 | 2019-01-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "She watched the process happen, the corpses piled up and used as fuel to stave off more of their own kind. Like a beacon that served as a warning, if the unclaimed even understood symbolism like that. She moved back intk the littel area, sitting on her rear, wide eyed, as if ready to keep moving for years, consecutively.\n\n\"Rest...\" She said, softly, pulling her boots back off. She pulled her knees up, watching the wabderer now, woth even mkre interest. Like she'd said; a man as strong as Rekkan in her vallage might have a gut, because a man in her village does not do much in the colder phases of the year.\n\nEventually, she'd returned her curious fingers to his body, tracing his scars wherever she could, making stories in her head on how he got them; she'd returned to lying on her stomach to do this, but this time, she faced him. She circled his bruises, and traced his cuts. She whispered to herself absently, and then loooked up to him. \"You have been moving for a... Long time.\" She said, tilting her head to the side. She'd never seen so many scars, not on one person. But she did know a saying. 'Scars tell unspoken stories of the past.' And if he had this many scars, he likely had just as many stories."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "He could not fathom staying put. Back when he was a kid, Rekkan lived with his tribe, nomads of the vast and arid steppes. They survived through hunting and foraging or, when Winters were roughest, by taking the food of other tribes through martial might. In the end, it was how his tribe was finished. It was a proud and strong collective of families, surrounded by enemies that banded together to stop them. He had the dark past of roaming alone ever since, his fate denied full circle in the same night that his tribe perished.\n\nShe was a strange girl. Izojnir touched, she felt and perceived with her fingers. The tips of her soft digits trailed odd patterns along his skin that were met with the sure lines and punctures of his scars. He laid then, as he suggested she should, resting beside her. Letting the girl wander and wonder. He was curious as to what she had under her garments, if there was a mark that told a story. His hands were larger than hers, rougher than hers. They raised his cloak and removed it, they grasped at her clothes and pulled them.\n\nInstinct compelled instinct. His body shifted over the grass, his furred cloak became a sheet under them. Rekkan used his strength to raise her, to slide the warm fabric under them. He used his hand to invade her skin, to trail along the plush flesh and squeeze it. Her body was malleable, doughy to the touch. He enjoyed playing with it. His excitement grew under his callused skin.\n\n\"I could use the relief.\" He smirked. His eyes settled down on hers. Dark browns pierced the veil as bodies touched. They were like animals. They became beasts. Together.\n\nThe darkness peered in curiosity. It could not understand, or it understood too much. Rekkan drowned in Izojnir's body. He was surrounded by her. She was warm, warmer still with him bearing down on her, shifting his shape on top of her, coiling her around his frame, taking her."
},
{
"author": "st.leechikinski",
"message": "Nomadic life was not the way of her village. It was the life of fishing, of self-sustaining in one spot. Everyone did their part. One of the few cases in wich communism might reign unchallenged, without issue. She only left to see what else there was in the world. Trade relative comfort for adventure, if you will. She was still naive to... Most experiences.\n\nShe turned her head towards his, as he moved towards her, his hands setting themselves, firm but careful, on her body. She didn't pull away; she watched him, carefully, studying him. She bore no flaws, other than out-of-place moles or freckles, normal marring of human skin. Relief, he said. She almosy chuckled, but was too breathless to do so.\n\nShe had not been touched this way before, her 'fate' marking her as taboo to court, as one who might somehow usher in the end times if she were to lose her... Innocence. But even still, she did not pull away, roused desires long dormant rising with new strength.\n\nAnd so he took her.\n\nAnd she took him just the same."
}
] | 296 | 971 |
92.75 | 2019-01-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David had been sat on his throne as he had waited for Alyx to arrive with his coin or any other worth while items that they may of taken on their raid , Throad had requested to go on the next raid with Alyx and her merry man, David had consider it if Alyx had needed more hands for her next raid this one time Throad many travel with them, the risk had been in doing this is if Throad is or even caught seen with them he is the Champion Of House Brass. All these thoughts flowed in his mind and then suddenly David had turned to Damien, who had been sat on a large chair in the corner of the throne room, the chair had the House Brass sigil carved into the back of it.\nDavid: \"Alyx and her crew shall be arriving soon go to the dock to welcome them home\" Damien slowly nodded to his Lord and raised from the chair, then Damien had turned to David before he had gone through the doors, Damien: \"I'll arrive with them soon if not we've lost a lot coin for awhile\" Damien had exited the Throne room and had left David to his thoughts and then as the room had then went silent David started fixing his hair."
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_Alyx is informed of Kings ships in the distance, and immediately moves to her deck to look for her self, the ship was truly massive...\"Maybe one day I will have one like those...\" She though, either way she fixed her hair a bit, after all she wanted to make sure to look well for the king and shouted at one of her men \"Bring the treasures!\" And soon her crewmen started piling many chests and bags of money and other valuable loot they managed to steal during their ravaging, and she stood at the deck... Awaiting the king to arrive at her ship_"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David had left his captains quarters on his personal ship, David had been wearing his brass amour with the house Brass sigil engraved into chest plate.\nDavid had motioned Damien to stay on the ship as David approached Alyx's ship with two guards on each side on him, David looked towards Alyx with a smile then had quickly turned to look towards the chests of loot, David: \"Good\" Looked at the chests of loot once again David nodded his head he had looked pleased. David :\"Any men killed or lost captain Alyx?\" David approached her after his question."
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_\"Your majesty\" She bows deeply in a way to have her breasts bounce a little teasing David \"I have lost 6 men your majesty, but I believe the gains outweigh it...\" She pointed at all the riches on the deck \"All this is yours my lord\" She them stood there with her hand on her hip showing herself to the king, as her armour still allows for her female form to be seen, mostly exactly for this reason..._"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David stared for a moment at Alyx movements but then approached the treasure,David turned to the two guards David: \"Get this on to my ship I need to discuss the raid with Captain Alyx\". The guards nodded and Damien had watched from David's ship and let out a sigh as the guards started to collect the loot for David .\nDavid looked to Alyx \"We'll discuss what happened during your raid in your captains quarters\" David had motioned Alyx to follow him as he entered into her captains quarters."
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_While she was quite displeased that he led her to her quarters and not the other way around she followed \"So what interests you my lord?\"_"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David had looked Alyx up and down for a moment then David had leaned on on the table at the edge on the room. David: \"Just a few questions did anyone that is a possible threat to us survive the raid?\""
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_\"We mostly raided merchant ship my lord... Most of the losses we have were from one time the merchants actually hired an escort...\" She for a moment started thinking of the battle that happened aboard the ship, they did not except that to happen, which was a mistake... Mistake for which 5 of her men payed for with their life_"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David narrowed his eyes at the slight hesitation, David: \"Nothing else Captain you know it better to tell me now then punish you for lying later\".\nDavid had stopped leaning on the table as David stood with his arms crossed and waited to Alyxs answer."
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_\"There is nothing else that happened my lord\" She said, saying the truth, she them stretched herself a bit, showing her body to david once again \"Now if you excuse me my lord I am sleepy\"_"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David Looked at her once again and chuckled, David: \"A lady like you sleeping alone\" David had said as he'd walked past her, David stopped for a moment then turned to her David: \"Who ever killed those five men make an example out of them l, strike fear into those who'd stand in the way of House Brass\", David placed his right hand on on his chest plate\nDavid: \"We live and We die by the sea\"."
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_\"They have been executed my lord fear not, and yes I do sleep alone... After I still havent found a suitable husband... Or a lover even...\" She smirked at him and them turned around \"Either way I suppose you will go now my lord?\"_"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David smiled at Alyx as he had approached the door to leave, David: \"Of course I need to go back to the Horn Hills and continue the raise of my house , take care and sleep well Captain Alyx\". \nDavid had left the captains quarters just as the guards had finished unloading his share of the loot onto his ship, David nodded to Alyxs crew mates as he had been about to depart on to his own ship.\nDavid : \"You have lost fellow brothers of battle not just battle of raiding our true way, the way the horn hills were built on, remember we are the masters of ships, the conquers of the land and remember that WE All LIVE AND DIE BY THR SEA!\" The men cheered as David headed back to his ship."
},
{
"author": "theprinceofardelphear",
"message": "_Alex stayed in her cabin, reading a bit before ordering her men to sail again, and going to sleep..._"
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David had ordered his ship to set back to the Horn Hills, Damien had approached David Damien :\"You think it's wise to\" Damien had been cut off by a firm slap by David, Damien crouched his face in slight shock, David had then gave a swift punch to Damien's face this had set Damien stumbling back on to decks hard floor. \nDamien held his nose and had felt some blood from a cut bottom lip Damien looked up in fear of David sudden assault on him.\nDavid had stood over Damien David :\"Respect your The Lord Of Your House and The King Of The Sea Brother or next time you'll lose teeth or worse speak unless spoken to\". \nDavid gave a quick boot to Damien head before he'd entered his quarters and slammed the door behind him , Damien had winced in pain as he had slowly gotten to his feet and looked out to the calm sea, Damien: \"The Seas hardens us or it break us\" Damien had said to himself as he'd stared out at the sea as he'd tried to ignore the pain the David caused him."
},
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "Lord Nathaniel Vivayn had recently become a pastry chef. \n\nThe pastry was human skin."
}
] | 81 | 1,484 |
276.777778 | 2019-02-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "The gates slowly opened to let Edmund out - his journey had begun and he looked onward with a grin. Riding down toward the double palisade's second gates, he looked around, noticing that the small population of High Helm was watching him leave from the fortress above. Quietly and without movement they spectated as he rode forth to leave them all behind. At the gates the young man stopped his horse and turned around one last time, raising his opened palm to wave his family and servants one last farewell.\nSoon he was outside of High Helm's protected territory, surrounded by an endless pine thicket. He took a long sigh, breathing in the frozen winter air of the witherlands that greeted him once he'd left the Keep's walls - the storm was over and the air was fresh and cold... \n\nThe road stood before him, charted and ploughed down by many dozens of footprints; undoubtedly left by the village folk that hurried along with their daily tasks pryer to him leaving. He took this small road without hesitation, riding forth to meet whatever the woods had in store for him.\n\nThe woods creeked peacefully, shaken only by this day's merciful breeze that played around like a child in the snow, throwing it about from time to time. Orn's hooves sunk slightly into the eternal white blanket that covered all of Witherlands, leaving behind a very unusual print for these parts - horses were a thing of luxury for most of High Helm's residents.\n\nAs Edmund rode forward, the road became more narrow, splitting into small paths that led in different directions. From now on, he was on his lonesome, forced to trace a path where nobody'd walked before or find some old, paved route that's been hidden by the snow storm, remains of which now cracked underneath Orn's hooves as him and Edmund continued on their undetermined way, accompanied only by the creeking of the woods and the quiet sounds of an almost dead forest."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Dorn, woodcutter of High Helm scratched his beard as he saw the lord's son ride away from the village. In his 46 years he had seen something like that happen only once before, when he was but a child and his father, Bjorn was the one working at the sawmill. He sighed and looked down at his two twin daughters as the two tugged on his thick wool clothes. \"Father why is the prince leaving?\" They asked at the same time. \nThe man chuckled \"Well ye see... Our prince needs to become ay man of knighthood, so hel be travelin' foh a long tim..\" He said as the two pairs of green eyes looked at him with curiosity.\nThen the two spoke again \"Father... Isn't the prince going to find the green man?\"\nThe woodcutter rolled his eyes \"You two shoul stahp talkin bout yer imaginary friend!\" He sentenced before picking the two girls up \"Anyway... Time to go help yer mother cook the stew!\" The children nodded, clapping excitedly as their father walked back into his humble house."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Hours passed as Edmund continued his journey, venturing onward, through the frozen pines and snowy hills - the woods just didn't seem to end at all. Perhaps, he was all turned-around and lost, but.. He followed the map, if you could call it one, pretty closely up to this point. It was a piece of pergament on which one of the villagers ahd charted up a crude-looking path that showed people where to and not to go. There were giants' resting spots marked all over, some even doubling on eachother. In addition to that, the map was also covered in small, careless scribbles of its previous owner. Edmund found it rather entertaining to read those little quips from the life of a usual peasant from his father's village. After all, it was the only source of entertainment for him. For now, at least.\n\n\"Found another iron pocket. Might notify others.\" The young knight read with a smile hidden beneath his helmet. \"What a peculiar life they must have.. Living without manners, without wealth... I wonder how they entertain themselves?\" This question brought to him a slew of memories from when he was just a small boy, visitng the Keep's village for the first time. It was a small celebration back then - he couldn't remember what of. The village folk were gathered around a giant flame, chatting about different things - what they'd caught the day before, how they'd spotted 'that one giant' one time and the rest... His father was simply visiting those peasants to show that he wasn't the one to look down upon their celebrations, no matter how pityful they must've looked like when compared to those he would occasionally host in the Keep itself...\n\nThose memories kept Edmund from nodding off - he tried to remember all of the details so that one day, perhaps, he could write it all down in a small story about his adventures. If he were to survive this journey, of course.\n\nA lone owl suddenly began to chirp lowly from somewhere deep within the forest. That surprised the young lad quite a bit - he'd never seen a bird roam around these woods before and always thought that those avian creatures lived somewhere southward; in Terresol, perhaps, but not in the Witherlands! Oh well.. His excitement quelled soon as it was just a sound of the forest, living its slow life."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The freezing, relentless and stinging winds of the witherlands were being surpricingly merciful, something which Stern acknowledged with a soft grunt before returning to skin the bear he recently killed, his sharp dagger skillfully handled by the orc as he was chewing on some dried meat. \nThe hunter let out a low, growly sigh before getting up from the rock he was sitting on and placing the fur near the fire to let it cure. \n\nThe green giant stretched his back, groaning as it emitted a symphony of cracks. His naked torso had some recent stitched wounds and blood stains, suggesting a recent fight. \"Dohl marak fod buradd...\" He cursed as he looked back at his old clothes now too torn to be effective against the wind. He crossed his muscular arms as he tried to look at the bright side. The kids were alive and he now had meat for the rest of his journey... Plus he still had his pants, boots and handwraps. He heard a owl nearby, deciding to ignore the animal."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Suddenly, Orn neighed out, stumbling over a rock that was deceptively hidden by the deep snow. Its voice echoed around the woods, notifying anything, from little vermin to the Giants that rested in cravises all around the white pines. \"Wooah there, easy, easy, Orn!\" Edmund sputtered out, caught off guard by the sudden stop and loss of balance. Stopping Orn dead in its track, he jumped off... Only to sink waist-down in the deep snow below him. \"Oh, bloody..\" He angerly muttered, pushing the snow away to check on Orn's legs and see if they were alright. All the while, the steed neighed yet again, stumbling backward a tad - it was frightened by something.\n\n\"Orn, calm down.\" The knight spoke, carefully petting the frightened animal. \"We are alone.. At least for now. I just need to check your leg, alright? Then we'll get on our way. Just stand steady.\" He continued while pushing the snow away from Orn's front legs. A couple of minutes later he sighed in relief, finding that no damage was done to the horse by the treachorous terrain.. He then got off from his knees and looked around to see if they weren't watched by any unwanted observer that was interested in a good old snack. Though he knew nothing of Stern and his business in the witherlands, he'd definitely heard and even seen some of the giants that roamed these lands... \"Let's get moving, Orn.. I am not planning on stumbling across any danger today.\" Concluding, he jumped back into the saddle and commanded the steed to head forth yet again, treading forward with caution this time."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern's ears twitched as the sound of hooves in the snow. He smelled the air, nodding as he acknowledged the presence of a single horse, which also acknowledged him when closer. The hunter checked the fur, nodding as he found it dry and cured enough to be wore, so he wore the head of the bear as a hood attatched to his now fur mantle. The orc secured it to his neck with some tight rope and grabbed his bundle of wooden throwing spears. He put the fire out, ready to resume his travelling. To do so, unfortunately, he had to cross the road which was now being occupied by what his nose recognized as a man... Smelling too good to be a traveller... A noble perhaps... \n\nThe orc carefully got closer to the side of the road, hidden by the bushes and snow. He put some snow in his mouth to avoid emitting vapour with each breath, also throwing some fine snow over his mantle to add a primitive camouflage to it."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Though Edmund was trying to soothe Orn's worries, the horse was still frightened to move too quickly. That made the young man nervous - a simple stone couldn't have caused such an irrational fear to completely take his steed over. Someone was out there... But he couldn't see nor hear anyone besides the distant song of the owl in the distance, somewhere. \nDeciding to play a risky game, Edmund halted in his tracks and, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword called out into the grey pines that surrounded him \"Is anybody out there?\"\n\n...\n\nHis voice echoed for a little while, getting spread around by the trees and the wind, but his question was not answered. \"Either they are preparing an ambush, or it was just some wolf that spooked you, Orn. Either way, we must move. Quickly now!\" He drove his spores into the horse's sides, forcing the animal to get back to its senses and focus on getting as far away from the strange odor it could no longer feel...\n\nMeanwhile Edmund, though he was still skeptical, quickly drew his bow and trained an arrow - just safety's sake. Once that was done, he called out once more \"Oi! Is anybody out there? Show yourself!\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern was now laying in the snow, covered and resembling a part of the environment. He had been moving closer to the road and the increasingly close thuds of hooves in the snow made him decide that faking to be a small pile of snow for a while wouldn't have been a bad choice. He remained pefectly still, breathing softly in order to keep the noise and movement at an almost imperceptible level. He was completely hidden and could hear the knight closing in. His ears gave him an ideal measure of 20 meters. He was ready to hold his breath from ten."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "As they rode closer, Orn became more and more worried, neighing and shaking hiis head as if refusing to go forward. But Edmund kept his eye on the road and the nearby trees, bushes and boulders, trying to see if he could spot any movement whatsoever. What could be causing such distress to the horse? He couldn't understand, pointlessly trying to soothe Orn's worries with careful pats on his head. \"Go on, don't be so afraid. It's alright. There's nothing to be worried about.\" He repeated, still looking around for the source of a possible threat... \n\nThey rode closer and closer to Stern's hiding place for a while unaware of his cloaked presense, howeversoon, Edmund's paranoid eye landed on some huge trails by the side of the rode. They led to a big snowdrift in which the orc was hiding.\n\n\"Oi!\" He called out, drawing his bow and aiming at the snowdrift \"I can see the bloody trails you left! Get up and show yourself!\" While saying that, he backed Orn up a bit to gain some range and reach advantage over his possible foe."
}
] | 237 | 2,491 |
197.777778 | 2019-02-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "With a growl of frustration Stern emerged from his hiding spot, letting the snow fall off him. The hunter was standing almost as tall as the knight atop of the horse. The bear fur coat added the remaining details required to make the horse panic. \n\nThe orc looked at the knight, craking his knuckles at him. His voice once again breaking the silence like a thunder in the night. \n\n\"Put the bow away. I only want to pass.\"\n\nHis ears twitched as they revealed something closing in. \n\nWolves... Moving silently through the vegetation, they were following the knight and, now, they would have become a problem for him as well. The knight was 5 meters away from him, which gave Stern enough space to pull a spear out of the bundle strapped to his belt. His nose confirmed the smell of wolf fur at both sides of the road. \n\n\"Or if you really want to keep the bow... Aim at something else... Like the wolves you have been too blind and deaf to notice.\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "As the orc emerged from his snowy hiding place, the poor steed's already frail mental state gave out and, after standing up on his hind legs and neighing out in panic (Which, in turn, threw Edmund out of his saddle and into the snow along with the most of his belongings), it ran away into the wintry woods, leaving its owner on his back and laughing at his string of bad luck..\n\n\"Agh, taff.. Well, off he goes then.\" Edmund muttered with a smile, getting up from the snow and quickly leaning down to gather whatever he could properly carry on his own back. It seems that, unlike Orn, he wasn't really bothered by the stranger's tall height, boomind voice nor his unnaturally green-ish skin and tusks... Soon enough his things were hanging on his belt and back. Finally, he turned to address Stern the orc. \"Well, I suppose we're stuck with that pack of wolves now. I see you've got some weaponry on you. That's going to prove very useful, in'nit?\" His voice shook a bit from the adrenalin of the whole situation, but he seemed more excited than scared: finally, his first story to tell someone later... Meeting something as unusual as Stern and fighting by its or his side was rather interesting.\n\n\"What are you, by the way? Just wondering. Or is this all war paint?\" The last question was uttered as more of a quip than an actual quriosity."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The orc growled softly, following the horse with his eyes as it ran away. He then studied the knight, now as small as every single other human he had ever met. He juggled with the spear to hold it in a way more suitable for throwing. He found those questions pointless, which made answering just as useless to him. He began pacing towards the middle of the road, before smelling the air. \"They are closing in...\" He sentenced before getting into a simple stance. \n\nHe could hear the sound of paws in the snow trotting closer, tho he wasn't sure about the number of wolves in the pack... He would have known soon enough."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "\"Man of few words, aren'tcha? Oh well, I'll crack that mystery eventually..\" Edmund looked around himself to see if he could spot any of the wolves that the orc was talking about. He was slightly frustrated at the other's refusal to give simple answers, but it wasn't that important right now, so he chose to shake it off. Waiting for the predators to show themselves, he placed an arrow up and onto his bow, ready to shoot whatever emerged its ugly head out of the woods first.\n\nA lone howl came from the creeking pines.. It was low, growly. Definitely more frightening than that of a usual wolf - wargs! Edmund knew of them. Him and his father usually went out to hunt those dangerous creatures for their valuable furs and plentiful (though coarse) meat. They weren't the creatures to be fooled around with - one chomp and a human was done. Either losing their limb or, if they were to succed in killing the beast that bit into their armour, having a dead giant canine just hanging on them, holding whatever they bit into before their death in an almost impeccable grip."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern took some steps back before he trew a spear into a group of semi frozen bushes. The projectile flew at incredible speed, describing a low arc in the air before reaching its target. \nA fraction of second before the primitive javelin landed, two grey wargs jumped out the bush, snarling at Stern, their white teeth contrasting with their dark gums. \n\nThey were about fifty meters from the two, so the hunter quickly grabbed another spear... Six spears left... \n\n\"There are more of them on our left... They won't attack until we stop keeping an eye on them...\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Watching Stern fight with the two giant wolves, Edmund nodded in acknowledgement of this hunter's great skill with his spears. But once it was relayed to him that there were more on their way, he turned to his left and, upon noticing a grey shadow quickly dart in the foliage, let his arrow fly by instinct. It swung through the air, cutting it with a quiet whistle before burrying itself into the wolve's Hind leg. Not a serious injury, but it did take the beast out of this fight - it scurried away with another low howl, leaving behind it a rather large blood trail... \n\nThe other three weren't discouraged by this, however, circling around the two fighters and waiting for a good time to strike. Meanwhile, Edmund quickly drew four more arrows from his quiver. Placing them against his bow for convenience sake. \"Another one gone. Looks like we've got this.\"Edmund exclaimed, excited by his lucky shot."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The hunter slowly put his spear away as the wolves were circling around him. He unsheathed his dagger, lowering his stance. He snarled at one of the wolves, which put a bit more space between it and the orc, who immediately stepped forward. Just like animals contending rheir territory, Stern managed to grab the attention of the bigger warg of the pack, showing its pointy teeth at it. \"You... Knight... Stay back.\"\n\nAs he said so he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cold air of the north. He then stomped his feet in the snow and roared at the warg with primal and incredible intensity, taunting the animal, which immediately leaped at the orc, aiming for his neck.\n\nStern had predicted such an instinctive reaction and immediately stepped to his left side, using the momentum to punch the warg as it was still in the air and sending it back into the snowy floor. Another warg tried to bite the hunter, who swiftly stepped back and slashed with his dagger, managing to cut deeply in the wolf's eye and nose. \n\nThe alpha warg shakingly got back up and leaped once again, leaving Stern the only option to hold the jaws of the animal open with his hands.\n\nA following struggle which led the wolf and the orc in the snow took place before the sound of broken bones put the word end to the fight. The warg's jaw was dangling innaturally off the animal's head, which was twisted innaturally. Stern had some scratches on his chest, yet he immediately got back up. The remaining wolves began to move backwards, eyeing the carcass of the alpha which was now laying in the crimson snow with its neck snapped."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "While the deadly struggle woke before him, Edmund followed Stern's advice and stepped back, putting his bow away and drawing his sword to, in case if things went south, at leat try and help the experienced hunter. However, while he was watching the fight go down, the only uninjured warg suddenly leaped toward him, missing his target by just a small margin and starting a duel that could've very well ended either his or Edmund's life by the end of it.\n\nEdmund jumped to the side, somewhat surprised by the sudden attack. But, after a moment of regaining his balance, he gripped his sword a bit more firmly and looked over at the wolf, grinning beneath his helmet as the animl hesitated, hearing the struggle behind it. \"Go on then, whatcha waitin for?!\" He exclaimed, waiting for the warg to inevitable leap at him once again. And, after another moment of hesitation, the beast snarled and lept forth, aiming to sink its disgusting, crooked teeth into the knight's armoured neck... Soon it landed, with a victorious roar, only to then suddenly whimper out in intense pain that filled its body. Soon, a burning sensation of a steel blade driving its relentless edges through the wolf's hide and ribcage followed, making it thrash in panic. But it couldn't go anywhere now - it was impaled.\n\nWasting no time, Edmund quickly retrieved his dagger and sunk it into the warg's neck, splitting it wide open which, in turn, covered his armour in even more of the foul monster's blood... Now only a carcus hung above him, shaking in agony and emitting vapors from its newly cut-out wounds."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The injured warg, finding itself now alone against two dangerous foes began running back into the vegetation. Stern could have killed it, yet he folded his arms on his muscular chest and looked at the creature flee. There was no point nor honor in killing all of the wargs after killing their alpha. The orc sighed and, after cleaning his dagger in the snow, he kneeled next to the dead alpha warg \"Dosh morkun zovak\" He muttered to himself, paying respect to the fallen wolf. \nHe then stood up, lifting the warg and resting it on his shoulders as if he was carrying a lamb. \n\nHe began to walk his way into the pine thicket, ignoring the knight."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "\"Not goin ta stick around? Alrighty then. Off ya go.\" Edmund paid no mind to Stern leaving him in the frozen wastes. After all, he was the one to blow the orc's cover somewhat, so it was only fair. Now his concern was his armour that was covered in the warg's blood in multiple places. He sighed \"For fuck's sake..\" And began to quickly clear out a place to make a fire for himself - it seemed like he'd have to stay the night out in the harsh cold of the witherlands.\n\n\"Thanks for your help, by the way. Safe travels, green stranger.\" He called out to Stern one last time as the orc walked off, leaving Edmund to his own devices and himself to think about what'd just occured and mull over a plan of action for the next couple of days."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "As he heard the knight speak, Stern's mind lit up with a blazing idea. \"You... Do you know of the White Roses?\" He stopped walking turning slightly to look at the armoured man. Judging by the ex-horseman he assumed his rank as a knight, which meant that his knowledge of the area would have definitely granted him a quicker journey."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "\"I've heard of them, I suppose. Though I know not of where they are currently residing. What would you need from them? Judging by appearance.. I doubt they'd be happy to accept you into their ranks, if that's what you're after.\" Edmund responded, not looking at Stern - he was preoccupied with cleaning his armour off with melted snow and bits of cloth that he found in his bag. It continued for about five minutes.. Then he tended to his sword, quickly and carefully cleaning its now crimson blade and putting it back into its scabbard.\n\nOnce those chores were over and done with, he picked up the axe that fell off his horse's back in the beggining of this strange encounter to go out and get himself some firewood and materials for a shelter - the dusk was already upon them."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern sighed. \"Norovak...\" The word sounded like an insult as the hunter disappeared into the vegetation, returning to his lonesome travelling. He would have had to keep moving east to find the main settlements and castles of the area, something which both would have helped him and at the same time made his travel more difficult, yet that remained his only option..."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Hearing the word Edmund paid no mind to it either - it sounded empty for him. He didn't know the language that the orc spoke from time to time. Either way, their encounter was over and, in a way, he was somewhat glad that it was so, tending back to the tasks at hand - he'd already found a couple of pines that he would need to cut down and chop into pieces if he were to survive this night.\n\nAs for the orc, he had no idea if that creature would survive in the witherlands on its own. \"Who knows? Mybe the bugger will actually find the white roses.. But I'll be surprised if he will find anything but the sweet relief of death.\" Whispering under his breath, the unfortunate adventurer got to work, swinging at the tree before him with dedication worthy of a man who feared for his life and didn't want to die on the first day of his journey just because of a bit of cold."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The snowfall would only get worse as Stern traveled south, towards the border to Northwind. The sprinkling of snow would quickly turn into flurries, and from them, into a dense storm. Soon, even the snow would give way to sheets of ice, whipping across the pines at strange angles. The sky would grow dark, a purplish blue, crackling with lightning that stretched across the clouds. It blew with a wind so fierce that the torches carried were almost immediately extinguished. Tough weather the brave alone, even for someone well versed in the art of survival. Many men had died along these trails on routine trading runs. \n The scrolls might have very well been the only thing responsible for the Orc's survival. Although they were all written in a strange, runic language, it was clear from the crude maps that there had been an established, but now hardly discernible, path. This was, by all accounts, a more covert way of approaching. It might've been intended for a surprise attack. The Bulwark was hardly a citadel capable of being hidden. From the trees, wind whipped banners flew. They were blown almost sideways from the wind, but when gripped, they bore the familiar sigil of The Order of the White Rose. He was getting close, but the storm deadly. He knew all too well of the dangers that lurked just behind the woodline. Something was stalking him. The scrolls indicated that he was only two or three more miles away, but their reliability was questionable. He would have to make a choice, and the wrong one could very well cost him his life."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The orc growled, covering himself with the mantle of bear fur obtained during his travel, yet he knew too well that facing the wind and ice was a battle only fools were willing to fight. His limbs were going numb. The hunter checked the scroll once again, acknowledging the presence of a series of caves nearby. \nWith renewed enthusiasm and moral strength, he took a different road, deciding to find shelter into the caves before resuming his journey. \nAlthough he was very close to his destination, his instinct told him to be patient. His ears and nose were unable to locate eventual threats due to the wind, keeping the orc on edge. He managed to make his way to a cavern... Yet he didn't let that glimmer of victory against the elements blind him... Other animals could have found refuge there.\nThe orc unsheathed his dagger."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The cave that Stern would enter was a simple affair, shallow, but with enough curve to avoid the ice storm. There were remnants of an old campfire off in the corner of the cavern, now just a pile of smoldering ashes. It wasn't warm, but it was dry. \n\nIn the corner was a wolf, asleep. The fact that it had not stirred from it's slumber, even as the large figure entered it's den, was a testament to it's exhaustion. It's back was facing him, and it's thick fur coat rose and fell slowly."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern moved slowly, his ability to see in the dark allowed him to spot the wolf almost immediately, which immediately made him start thinking of a possible course of action. The orc searched his bag, pulling out of it a big chunk of meat, which he placed less than a meter from the wolf, quickly returning near the entrance of the cave to use the dead campfire to start a new one with the wooden spears he had with him plus some logs he kept for emergency reasons. He sat on a rock, facing the animal, his hand holding onto his dagger. \nHe did not want to kill the other animal, having been raised to respect nature and its inhabitants, plus a sleeping wolf wasn't something able to threaten him nearly as much as the storm roaring behind him. He relaxed his tense muscles as the warm embrace of the campfire envelopped him. \nHe grabbed a small puch he kept in his bag and started eating some wild berries he had found recently, enjoying their energizing sweetness."
}
] | 184.5 | 3,560 |
91.5 | 2019-02-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "The sound of wood chopping the slowly beat, the metal shriek of flint and steel, then the smell. This smell is one that has not been smelled before, a new smell, a strange smell. No... This was a human, that smell, that wretched, horrible, abomination, invasive, ..... Deadly smell. What's this sound, this familiar sounds that is comforting to not let what happed so long ago happen again... But what happened? Doesn't matter as this human will destroy this forest and all the juicy prey in it.\n\nShe slowly crawls forward on all fours coming down from a nearby hill. She sees the dancing flames like a beacon telling her what power those demons possess. She gets closer to the campsite as she inters opposite of the tent slowly moving to the warg bodies. She approaches, keeping her eyes on the tent she starts to cut out the eyes of the beasts and there claws."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "The snowy storm raged on and so, the young knight stayed oblivious to the faint noises of someone walking around his small campsite. While the strange figure lurked about outside, he was cleaning his armour thoroughly from the blood of his feral adversaries. He'd been at it for a while now and the last bit of metal he had to clean was his helmet. A sallet that was made specifically for him was now covered in that vial blood of the wild animals.. He hurried to clean it off. Soon, the crimson specks that were beginning to turn a black-ish brown were wiped off completely and the helmet glistened in the fireplace's light once again. \n\nPutting it on, Edmund sighed, looking at the flames.. They were growing weak. He went outside to add some more fuel to them and suddenly.. He spotted the strange visitor hunched over the dead bodies of the three wargs. \"OI!\" He called out, quickly unsheathing his sword. Though the wind's whistle was loud, his voice cut through it like a well-sharpened knife cuts through butter. \n\n\"Who are ye? Come closer to the fire and show yourself!\""
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "The faint black outline of the creature turns to you, seeing large what seem like glowing eyes as the head tilts to the side as it walks close. The way this 'thing' is moving is one of horror as it seems to break itself as it moves along the ground. You can see it slowly stand up as it spin seems to go back into a more human shape as you see the glint of a hand axe bounce of her hip as she slowly grabs it still not being able to be seen by the fire.\n\nT-that smell it burns, human steel that's what that smell is. It will bring fire to forest... Yes. This... Demon can not go north any further. He must be stoped...\n\nStrange cryptic words fall out of the things mouth as it stares at you with its yellow, glowing, beating, shimmering eyes."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "The strange, creepy movements of the figure make Edmund assume a more defensive stance, putting up his small, targe shield up to protect his head and leaning slight forward with his sword rested against it. \"Can you speak properly? What do you want, if so?\" The young man asks of the disturbing creature, while moving closer to the fire. His emerald eyes light up with excitement once again. Though it is a strange encounter, he might get a chance to test his battle prowess.. Now one on one with something that seemed more anthropomorphic than the wargs that came before it.\n\nThe steel of his armour now shone in the fire's light, reflecting it onto the figure somewhat. Edmund stood in anticipation of the thing's following actions and, seeing as how it grabbed onto its axe, there was a battle to be had."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "The thing stepped forward\n\nCovered in dry blood the smell engulfing the campsite. Beaks, claws, meat, and eyes dangled from the things waist as it took another step forward. The party bald head shined in the light as the face was slowly put together.\n\nWith large eyes the mouth smiled, the hand that the thing was collecting the parts of the wargs with drew upon itself as blood smeared the face of the vile creature. \n\nOnce again you hear the strange words coming from the creatures mouth.\n\"Ditt blod er min, din sjel er ødelagt, du vil bringe døden til dette landet, som jeg vet!\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Not waiting for the thing to attack him, Edmund, using a more aggressive tactic, suddenly lunged forth without a warning, aiming to smash the edge of his thin, targe shield into the thing's disgusting head (if you could even call it that). Though unprovoked, Edmund thought that this attack would be for the best, because the thing in front of him seemed rather hostile in its approach towards him."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "The things eyes widen as the metal demon pushes forth through the air. Taking one step and pivot the thing was now on the side of the incoming attack crouched to the floor as... It kept its axe in the same place before she took the step"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Having not put his entire momentum into this lunge, Edmund quickly recoordinated himself and swung his sword down upon the crouching creature, aiming for its head once again. In his experience, once the head was smash in or cut off, the creature that once was controlled by it would be dead.. He also quickly repositioned his shield to be closer to his gut - the vital part which, though protected by the brigandine and a gambeson, was still, in a way, vulnerable to blunt force put forth by axes and maces."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "Taking the curved knife from her left side she grabbed the sword with it, the sword having being caught slides to the left digging into the things shoulder as it screams like a banshee. Now becoming angry it fell to the ground, trying to keep the focus on attack that has damaged the thing, the axe swung into the Knights right foot."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Yelling out in rage as the sudden pain engulfed his foot, Edmund jumped atop of the vile smelling creature, getting his dagger out to finish the job. But first, drowning in his flaming anger, he began to basically pummel his adversary into the ground with his steel-clad fists. Nothing could stop his desire to just destroy this disgusting thing where it stood now."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "As the burning cold steel smashes into the things skull legs swing forward wrapping around the knight as it smashed the metal demon into the ground."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Reacting to this sudden, new threat, Edmund quickly and in slight panic cut at the two appendages that wrapped around him, trying to free his arms enough to break out completely. He also struggled against the weakened foe, yelling out in anguish and slight disappointment. Then, in a split second decision, he also drove his sharpened spurs into his deadly opponent's chest, trying to rip at it and distract the being that controlled his binds."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "\"Spis skit!\"\n\nThe thing yelled as the spurs hit the tough bear hid that the thing was wearing as it quickly let go and scurried back into the darkness as it also grabbed its curved knife along the way"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Quickly limping toward his small camp, Edmund grabbed his bow and two or three arrows - he wasn't done with the creature. He turned around, stood up and quickly drew his bow, aiming at the slight silhouette he could see in the dim flames. One arrow was let go.. He missed - it sunk into the snow beside Shaman. He drew another one and fired, this time making corrections for the wind and the distance, trying to hit the downed enemy somewhere in their neck or head region."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "Ducking under the second arrow with a bolt of speed the thing rushed the metal demon, knowing that it's scaly skin is to thick to penetrate it turned the blade backwards using the blunt of the handle to try and hit the head\n\n\" Forhekse deg!\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "To confuse his relentless adversary, Edmund rushed forth to counter attack, smashing his metal fist against the thing's head once again to grant himself some time to pick up his sword once again. The fight wasn't done, it seemed.. And it wouldn't be until one of them was dead."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "The fist made contact, sweeping the thing off its feet as it flew 3-4 feet off the ground landing on its stomach, passing out cold in the snow next to the fire"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Wasting no time, Edmund picked his sword up and limped up to the knocked-out creature, quickly swinging the blade down onto its neck to finish the battle once and for all."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "Opening its eyes blurry and confused it grabbed its axe that layed next the the fire as it turned over catching the sword and bringing it down into the path of the flames"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "He kicked the thing in its head in responce, quickly tearing his sword back from the flames which were almost dead at this point. He was furious that his enemy was refusing to die, but he also knew that now he was on top - there wasn't much that the creature could put up against him anymore."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "With its damaged arm it tore into the sky with its knife towards the demon with all of its strength left know this was it if the tip of the blade didn't hit"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "The hit made him scream out in pain yet again - she managed to hit his least protected area - the back of the thigh. Though not hitting anything important, a wound is still a wound. He fell down on his knees, pinning her to the ground and quickly driving his sword downward to finish her off - the bleeding had to be stopped before it could do some serious damage to him."
},
{
"author": "gloomycrayon35",
"message": "The thing smiled as the sword smashed into its neck, but right before hand she turned the blade that she had stabbed him with, to the pint were the knife could feel it scrape against his bone as the screaming banshee fell silent"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "\"Bloody hell, finally..\" Edmund growled out, falling back into the snow and letting out another scream of pain while grabbing onto a nearby branch. \"TAFF, YOU BLOODY PIECE OF FILTH!\" He yelled out before exhausting himself and letting out as much pain as he could. Soon, afterfinally regaining his sanity, he crawled back to the flames and closer to his tent... Now it was time to tend to his own wounds.\n\nFirstly, he took out his dagger once again, cleaning off the banshee's blood off it with snow. Once it was clean, he lowered it into the flames of his campfire, heating the piece of metal up. Soon enough, it was ready - he just needed something to bite down on while he 'treated' the wound. A twig sufficed enough and, after taking his helmet off, he bit down on it as hard as he could, watching his dagger become orange..."
}
] | 72 | 2,196 |
206.769231 | 2019-02-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "*A masked figure would've been running through the forest. Seeming to be running from something beast like. Loud growling would've been heard behind him, multiple ones at that, leaves, branches breaking behind the creatures running after him. The harlequin dressed figure would 've clutched his fist flicking it seeming trying to cause something but POOF just smoke . He would have gasped as he sees light from not far from him, he 'd runs towards it diving right in front of the armored man saying quickly \"Hello! I brought ya friends!\" *Would pull out his daggers * \"These friends aren't to friendly though soooo that ain't to SHARP of em, think ya can give me a hand real quick?\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "At the time, Edmund was preoccupied with taking care of his wound so, once the strange joker jumped into his camp, nearly extinguishing the flames that saved his life began to spoke, he roared out in pain and anger, pulling a jagged dagger out of his thigh and caughterizing the wound with his own right after.. Even though he had a twig between his teeth, the crumpled-up wet wood didn't stand a chance - his teetch ripped through it, letting his voice roam and echoe yet again through the forest. \n\nA couple of seconds later he turned to Jestah, frowning at his presense. \"Gods, damn me to eternal heated punishment, why must I stumble across whacky figures at every turn today?\" He muttered out, picking his sword up from beneath the snow. He then turned to face the quickly approaching animals, ready to gut himself another dinner..."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "The figure pushed himself off the snowy forest floor. He was quick dust himself off before he twirled the daggers he took off his waist inbetween his hands in a clockwise motion. He'd say in a cheerful voice \n \"I unno eitha buts what can ya do when the show seems to be around you!\" \n \nThe man seemed to let off a cheerful giggle before WOOSH two guard dog like hounds pounced out of the woods staring at the masked man paying no mind to the armored figure . The man flinched as they had landed looking over to them chuckling \n \n \"Oi the mutts av arrived... Minds takin they's eyes off lil ol me? I ain't really desired to be someones chew toy todays.\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "\"Why do you have guard dogs after you?\" \n\nEdmund enquired with great curiosity, pulling himself up to stand in a defensive guard. He faced the dogs with an annoyed grin, waiting for the hounds to make their move towards the jester-looking character... And soon enough, they did, one of them leaping forth with a loud series of barks before suddenly stopping in its tracks and whimpering out in fear and pain and falling to the ground - with two swings delivered from above, Edmund cut the poor animal in half, leaving its mutilated remains to shiver in the crimson snow.\n\nNow came time for the second dog to meet its end as it leapt forth, this time toward Edmund, meeting its abrupt end at the tip of his sword, which simply drove itself through the mutt's body like a heated knife would through butter. Edmund stared into the dying creature's eyes, wanting to be the last thing that the animal'd see in its life. Theatrics, mostly, but to make a good impression is everything."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Before the Jestah could even say a single word he was taken back by the seer power of the man in front of him. Jestah, was hoping that the figure was strong enough to protect him but he assumed he'd require a hand not handle the animals by himself like they were nothing but his play things. Jestah stares at the man without saying a single word, he'd stare at him for a good five seconds before breaking the silence with a clap."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Quickly cleaning his blade of the poor animals' blood, he sheathed it and, to Jestah's slight surprise, responded with an elegant bow - every performance must end with one. But right after, he settled down in front of the campfire, extending his hands towards it after throwing in a couple of small logs to feed the dying flame and not suffocate it. \n\nHis thoughts were conflicted, to say the least: what was this man doing out in the forest, chased around by the guard dogs? Why is he dressed as a court entertainer in those frozen pines and, most importantly, perhaps... Is he a threat? All of that prompted Edmund to keep his hand on his still hot dagger to have, at the very least, a fighting chance if Jestah were to do something.\n\n\"Sit down beside the fire, if you'd like. Meat's all yours.\" He nodded toward the recently killed dogs and wargs that lay in the snow. \"In the mean time.. What's your name?\" He enquired once again, interested to know what kind of person was standing beside him."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "The man just walks around the figure making a circle in the snow with his boots before stopping infront of him. The man would feel as if the masked figure is just staring at him before a chuckle is heard coming from him as he gives off a very elegant showman bow. He'd then speak saying in a voice that was a decent mix of a showman and the joker. \n \"They's calls me Jestah! Jestah the happiest showman around! If not the finest as well.\" \n As he says that the man flicks his wrist and a small smoke cloud puffs out in his palm, it was a bright purple color. As he blows it into Edmunds face and the smoke vanishing, Edmund would see the Joker card being held in between his thumb and his finger. He'd twirl around as he seems to peer towards Edmund, waiting for his reaction."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Unimpressed, Edmund sat there, looking at the flames of the campfire rather than Jestah's tricks... His enthusiasm was all but gone after the encounter with the murderous shaman that lay dead not too far away from his camp as well - a detail that Jestah's eyes'd definitely picked up on by now. A still, bloodied-up corpse of a strange-looking human being, all covered in rotten eyes, teeth and small bits of bones with a handaxe on its belt: it stayed the same, still... Dead in a frozen puddle of its own dark red-ish liquid. \n\n\"Jestah, huh? Interesting name. Care to remove your mask, settle down and tell me your story? Or would you rather head off, remaining mysterious?\" Edmund was blunt, sounding a bit irritated, even. But that came more from his wound and damaged clothes rather than the Jester's mediocre showmanship skills that'd failed to impress him.\n\n\"Name's Edmund, by the way. Figure it's best to introduce myself as well.\" His voice rang out once more, his line of sight unbroken from the dancing tongues of the flame in front of him... That familiar warnth; what a peasant feeling. As if he were back in High Helm's keep, sitting beside the fireplace. The only thing missing was a chalice with wine and his siblings running around in the hall."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "The man would take a seat by him not really minding the corpses around him. He'd cross his legs as he sits down clapping his hands together seeming ready to sing his tale. He'd clear his throat before he looks Edmund saying clearly in a enthusiastic voice. \n\n\"Well my story is simple, I tried to take some items from a nobles house, thoughts no lived der no moe. So I thought this was a \"Golden\" Opportunity to make a profit. Welp guess the house was just under renovation cause whens I bloody enter through a window a hear this noble lass screetch. \" The mimics the screetch mockingly before continuing his story \"So her husband hears this runs in... Sees me in their bedroom and yells for the guards. I hops out the window and begin making my run ...Long story short i'ms ere now with dogs chasin me... Wells I hads dogs chasin me... Till ya killed em.\"\n\n\"I says husband but it couldah been just a random man trynna fit his sword into her seathe, I unno how nobles works. Alls I know is nows i'm ere in the bloody cold ass forest lost as all bloody ell.\" The man seems too happy for his own good to be in such a situation \"But enough about me! Tell me why ya are here.\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Listening to the man's tale cautiously, Edmund watched Jestah's every move, ready for everything at this point. When the story came to nobles, he flinched, but, hearing about some 'lass' made him settle down - this scumbag didn't try to get anything from High Helm. Although, the knight was still not fond of the fact that this joker tried to steal from the ones like him - people that'd earned their names and fortunes through hard work and, sometimes, bloody sacrifices.\n\n\"Good thing you stumbled across me then, eh?\" He looked over at the flames that were catching back on before throwing another patch of twigs into the fire and watching as the sparks quickly jumped into the air. \"But I have a question, before I tell you about myself.\" He then spoke, granting the now more lit figure another glance \"Did you happen to catch the nobles' name? Or, perhaps, their sigil?\" He then turned to his sword which was, to his dismay, now sightly chipped from having to break through the bones of the dogs that now lay, frozen in the deep crimson snow."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah sits there on the cold snow seeming to have been eyeing the noble figure, he'd let off a healthy chuckle from how much ,Edmund, was asking about Jestah. Jestah claps his hands together before replying with.\n\n\"Wells I tolds cha I thoughts the place was abandoned so no I never figure out who's house it was . I saw nothing other then a rather nice looking noble woman and a nude noble man running in, otha then that I unno anything abouts em. Soo i'm innocent I just went into a building thinking it was empty and was sadly mistaken, guess you could say I BARKED up the wrong tree.\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\n\"You seem to be putting a lot of emphasis on some of the words you say. I am not sure if you're trying to make it more comedic through that.\" Was his responce to the silly puns that the jester made. Soon, he pulled up a piece of meat that he cut out earlier from the wargs and stuck it onto a twig... Simple, really, but it helped to not burn his hands or dirty the meat in soot and dust after letting it fry on the coals. \n\n\"As per my story.. All you need to know is that I am a travelling fighter in search of a noble who'd accept my services. A sword for hire, perhaps.\" That was his only tidbit of a story that prefased this encounter. \"Oh, and I suppose you're wondering about the corpses that are strung all around us?... In a way, I am still confused as to how they got here as well. All I can is one of them made a bad choice in their life which ended up being their last.\"\n\nShivering a tad, Edmund stood up and went into his makeshift tent after grabbing the rest of his belongings that were scattered about. \"If you need to, stay by the campfire. But come not a step closer to this shelter, understood?\" Not waiting for an answer, he laid down on the wolf's hide and closed his eyes, listening closely to what the other male was doing."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Winterlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah sat there on a log listening to Edmund speak never seeming to get a chance to say anything back through the entire conversation . As Edmund went into his tent and layed down closing his eyes for a while there was silence about thirty minutes would pass or so you would assume. All that would be heard from time to time was Jestah cracking a joke maybe at a nobles expense, maybe at his own, but it would seem to always leave the masked figure giggly. Edmund would hear cards shuffling and sometimes some humming, Jestah, clearly seemed to have no where to go as of now. Edmund than hears the man stand up and begins walking around as tree branches would be heard breaking and being snapped apart. ...It was easy to tell the flames of the campfire had died down.\n\n\"Oh oh, a little like this... Maybe like that... PERFECT!\" *The masked man seemed to be speaking to himself at the time as he seems to have been doing something with the camp fire before Edmund realizes it's gotten a lot brighter and the fire that was supposed to be dying down now has erupted in a roar.*"
}
] | 211 | 2,688 |
212.363636 | 2019-02-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nListening to this uncanny visitor fooling around, Edmund lay in his tent quietly. He wasn't asleep - he didn't trust Jestah enough for that. He simply had his eyes closed to at least let them rest a bit from the day before. His wound was sore... Hurting like hell, but he couldn't do anything about that, forced to endure the pain for the rest of its long effect.\n\nHearing the man standing up, Edmund sat up, opening his eyes to be alert if the jester tried anything. However, soon he realized that the young man simply gathering uip firewood. He settled down again for a couple of minutes and suddenly, the campfire roared out, lighting up the camp with its bright flames. That made Edmund stand up and quickly limp out of his tent to see what was going on.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" He asked, keeping his voice as calm and collected as possible."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nAs Edmund walked out he would've seen the campfire had gotten bigger. Jestah, in the thirty or so minutes Edmund was in the tent attempting to rest had seemed to gather as many branches, dead wood, and more to form a bigger campfire. Jestah seemed to have been holding a flask in his right hand as he looks over to Edmund. \n\n\"Oh ya know, I was getting a bits chilly, sooo I increased the flame. Didn't have no fuel sooo I just poured strong vodka onto the flame to get it going. You like? Won't be freezin to death anytime soon.\" *As Jestah speaks ,Edmund, if he had some decent perception he would notice steam coming off of Jestahs right palm that was holding the flask* \"No needs to thanks me ya could just pass me a blanket sooo I could rest here, that'll doo me just fine.\" \n\nAs Jestah finishes his sentence he'd pocket the flask onto the holster on his thigh. Before anything is said, Jestah, does a skip forward before diving into the ground to do a cartwheel, cartwheeling over to the nobleman, landing right in front of him the snow underneath Jestah crunching from the movement and some of the snow being kicked over into Edmunds face by accident."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "As the night dragged on, the wolf would come to. It was a mother, nursing a few, mewling pups. They were tucked into her side, shielded from the howling winds and pressed into the wall. The warmth had roused her from her sleep, and almost immediately, she struck into a defensive stance. Slowly she reared back, taking calculated steps and baring her teeth at the hulking orcish figure. Pretty readily, however, her eyes began to flit to the large chunk of uncooked meat. Still, she stood her ground, now protecting both her pups, and the dinner that would feed them."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Area near the Bulwark, the Witherlands\n\nStern emitted a soft growl as he kept eye contact with the mother. He remained still, showing no sign of anger nor fear. His years in the wilderness had taught him how to interact and tame most of beasts he knew, yet he never thought of actually having an animal companion. He knew his harships were too difficult to allow something like a friendship in his life.\nThe orc kept eating, nodding at the wolf mother. He wasn't going to harm the pups, therefore he didn't expect to fight, especially because he was definitely bigger than the wolf and he counted on the instinct of the mother to keep a fragile peace between them. \"Goh mord'ha nor kovez...\" He chuckled and put his dagger away."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\n\"Well, what I had was perfectly fine, but.. Being bigger doesn't really do it any bad.\" The knight looked over at the jester's fuming palm. \"What's that? Burnt your palm or something?\" He asked, tracking the flask as it was quickly hidden in its pouch.\n\n\"About that blanket.. Can't help you with it. If you want one, you'll have to tear it off of one of the dead boys over there\" He nodded to the frozen wargs behind him, stepping aside to not get hit in the head by the acrobatic jester and thus dodging most of the snow that flew his way as a result. \n\n\"Mind being a bit more careful with your tricks?\" Rolling his eyes, the young knight looked the visitor over once again, being able to inspect this smaller-framed male better in the light of the roaring campfire."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Cave near the Bulwark, the Witherlands.\n\nSeemingly calmed, or at the very least startled by the harsh words, the wolf mother shirked back into her corner. She lightly pawed over the lump of bloody meat and dragged it into her space with her teeth. Slowly she began to eat. It was clear that during this winter, a winter made inevitably longer by the climate of the Witherlands, she had little to eat, and even less to feed her pups. A few of them had even come around, sniffing and inspecting the floor of the cave for any wayward bugs or dropped berries. They found little to nothing. One had found their way to Stern's boot. It's size was miniscule, partly due to it the pups young age, paired with the fact that it was probably malnourished. It mewled loudly at him."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Cave in the Witherlands.\n\nThe orc eyed the wolf, then its mother. He wanted to keep away from her pups, knowing all too well that the wrong movement would have meant the death of another being that night. Stern didn't touch the animal, yet he sighed and checked his rations of dried bear meat. \nHe had enough for a couple of days, so he nodded to himself and rested a small piece of it near the wolf. That creature looked fragile, weak... Yet his heart did not make him view such things as bad. He understood the real strength latent into that brave pup who, going against what its mother and siblings were doing, approached a visibly dangerous stranger. \n\"Orgun...\" The word \"Brave\" Escaped the hunter's lips before he returned to the silent contemplation of the fire. There was something slightly amusing in that situation...\n\nA boar surrounded by wolves..."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Cave in the Witherlands.\n\nThe night would pass by rather quickly, and sometime around midnight the storm was subsist. The fire would die down into soft embers, and when Stern would awake, he would find that the hunk of meat, wolves, and most of her pups gone. The one by Stern's boot, the one that had been distracted by the piece of bear meat, remained. It was sleeping softly. \n\nThe winds at the mouth of the cavern were now soft flurries, blowing in a soft blanket of snow across the floor. The sun shone a bright, reflective white. The way was clear and safe again."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the way to the Bulwark. The Witherlands\n\nStern acknowledged the current situation and sat up with a groan. His lungs filled with stinging cold air as he yawned, scratching his beard in order to find a flea. Yeah he needed a proper bath...\nHe ate the insect and searched the embers for some charcoal to use as tinder if need be. As he did so, he looked at the pup resting near him. Miniscule compared to even the orc's hand, the grey wolf pup had been sleeping next to him and now would have died without someone to take care of it. The orc stopped searching the cold ash and sighed. He could have killed the wolf and spared it of the hunger and cold... But brave spirits do not deserve to be killed for pity... He decided to not wake the animal up as he began to pack his few things and prepare to reach his destination. After all of his belongings had been fastened to his belt, he moved out of the cave.\n\nHe was a couple of meters outside the cave when the barking of a pup stopped him. He growled softly, turning to face the small wolf. Two icy blue eyes locked on the orc, a tail was waddling and something very small was trying its best to move through the thick snow to reach him. \nThe hunter kneeled, sighing \"Zod ka marad, Orgun...\". He picked Orgun up and kept the wolf in his hand. The pup bit his thumb, making the greenskin burst into laughter as he started walking to reach the Bulwark."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Way to the Bulwark, The Witherlands Southern Boarder \n\nThe final push of the trek would last some time. The snowfall had produced large banks that pushed up the pine trees, reaching so far as to rest against the needles that produced icicles like ornaments. For what once was a treacherous, bone chilling path, the trails that the scrolls described the two, well guarded entrances into the Order's base of operations but made specific mention of a weakened portion of the outer wall. His travels would lead him towards the only side without a large and imposing gate, but it appeared that the aforementioned weakness had already been taken care of. \n\nStern would spend most of the day traveling, and when he did finally come upon the encampment, the sun would be setting. His exit from the woodline would provide him with a breathtaking view of his future home. The fortress sat imposingly against the icy crags behind it, smokestacks and large bonfires rising high into the dusky sunset. Before him was the Northern wall, which did support a sizable crack. What the scrolls _hadn't_ described, however, was the large encampment around said crack, and the towers of scaffolding that were going into repairing it. It looked as if the workers were packing it in for the night, returning to their tents and preparing dinner. A home cooked dinner that, to someone who had been on the road all too long, looked incredibly appetizing. The hadn't noticed him yet, and he could sneak around to the main entrance and request access the way he had assumed. What lay before him was the only real mark of civilization in this part of the world, The Bulwark."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah would clutch his fist as the man makes his comment about the steam. He'd sigh before nodding at Edmund sincerely replying \n\n\"Yeah, I gots a little to eager whens making the flames, burnt me self slightly. What can ya do I suppose? Well couldah been worse I suppose heh. Sooo listen ere... Minds if I joins ya on ya quest? I'm lost and I can be rather useful maybe I can be ya company and we could share a few drinks and stories.\"\n\nThe man tilts his masked face at figure holding his arms out like a showman who has the spot light on him almost like he wants Edmund to examine him out and maybe see something useful about Jestah."
}
] | 190 | 2,336 |
273.714286 | 2019-02-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh. Outside the Bulwark, the Witherlands.\n\nThe hunter stopped walking at the sight of the settlement, his eyes travelling from the tents to the people to the walls. He had never been inside a city, nor he had ever seen that many people. He didn't like it... \nThe orc's iron will took over his animalistic instincts. He had to keep going... So he started walking. His huge body, the bear fur and the fact that all of his skin was covered by clothing, made several people step back as he walked on the road to the secondary gate. He ignored the gaze of all the people, yet when a child pointed at him and exclaimed \"Mom look! A giant!\" He couldn't help but glare at the youngling. The mother immediately took the child with her and quickly disappeared into the small crowd which was now forming around that gargantuan stranger.\n\nStern was starting to lose his temper, when he felt something in his hand. Orgun was licking his fingers, nuzzling them before curling up again inside his palm. Stern sighed as that moment of unexpected sweetness relieved some of the stress he was feeling. \n\nAs he got closer to the gate, Stern was getting more and more nervous... *Never enter a village, Stern... People are not ready to welcome you among them*... The words of his adoptive mother didn't help the orc either...\n\nThen he heard a voice. \"You, stranger! To enter the Bulwark you need a pass.\" A guard had already pointed his spear at the hunter who was towering above him. \nStern attempted to soften his voice, feat which he surprisingly managed to complete. \"I have important information for the White Roses, your enemies are plotting to siege this place. Let me pass or your people will not be prepared.\" His serious tone, which was now lower and more like a whisper, sent shivers through the guard's spine."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Order of the White Rose, The Bulwark\n\nThe guard before Stern, Jareth, was currently shaking. He had seen a lot of terrifying things in his short time in the White Roses, especially as a grunt positioned outside the front gates. He had never seen someone that tall, or muscular, or _green_, or _tusked._\n\n\"H-he says he has information, o-o-on the Coven!\" Jareth would shout to the other guards above him, in the towers. \"H-he says we're not prepared! He wants t-to come in!\" In his nervous haste, Jareth had neglected to mention that the visitor was also terrifyingly unhuman. Jareth was a terrible guard. \n\nVery quickly, news of a giant of the outskirts of the Bulwark spread. They had been expecting some sort of scout from the Coven of the Raven, but they were hardly expecting so... Lumbering. They had also hardly expected them to walk up to the front gates and explained that he had information on the Coven itself. The man at the gate, intimidated by the sudden appearance of the imposing visitor, had stuck out the spear to make some distance between them. The men on the tower, however, were not as apt to strike. Instead, they called down to Stern.\n\n\"Hark!\" The left one called, \"Who are you and from where do you hail?\" He was covered in plate armor, holding out a torch to get a better look. He couldn't get a discernable glance underneath the pelts Stern wore. \"I assure you, traveler, we are better prepared than most to deal with the threat of witches and demons. How does a man like you come into possession of scrolls like that? Logic would entail that you are a spy, but—\" There was the sound of clicking crossbows. \"Only an idiot would come here with the expectation of breaking in.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern looked up at the armored man with spite. \"I am Stern Logarsh of the Boar Clan, I have come from Taemar following the maps your enemies made. If I wanted to kill your people this puny guard wouldn't have even noticed my presence.\" His voice was strong like thunder in a stormy night. The orc grabbed his dagger and trew it on the ground.\"I don't know the rules of your people, but from where I come there is no honor killing someone who is not posing a threat. Let me in or cower behind your walls like the spineless slugs you are!\" The orc returned to his silence, his eyes perfectly able to gaze into the paladin's showing no fear, lies nor weakness. He was once again standing before death and, just as before, he spat at it."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Order of the White Rose, The Bulwark.\n\n\"Yeah, well—\" The guard from the tower held his crossbow up and personally clicked it back, \"We're happy you didn't kill him, Stern Logarsh of the Boar Clan. It would not have ended well. Jareth! Pat the man down for any more weapons. I'll call for them to let him in.\" \n\nJareth snapped into action, quickly sheathing the spear over his back. He had to stand on the tips of his toes just to pat down his shoulders. When he was finished, he resumed his position and again removed his spear. \"H-he's good!\" Once again, neglecting to mention the fact that Stern was an Orc. \n\nSlowly, the gates began to rumble. The large gate shuttered into life, two thick chains tugging it upwards. It would be a while before it was raised. \"Where _does_ a man like you come from, Stern Logarsh? My brothers and sisters in arms have been to Taemar. We have no reports of their people being shaped like the broad side of a barn.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nThe glared at the man who patted him before kneeling and sheathing his dagger. The wolf pup hopped off his hand, trotting around the hunter. He stood still until the gate raised completely, then the orc began walking silently, finding the question and the comment about his size worthless, hence why he didn't even bother answering. He walked through the gate, eyeing every single person he saw, mentally counting them and studying their gear, just in case...\nOrgun followed him diligently, focusing solely on him, the wolf's instinct told it to remain close to the greenskin as he was the only familiar smell it could sense.\n\n\"Where is your chief?\" The orc spoke directly, making it sound more like an order to who he identified as the most experience deprived guard he had ever met. He didn't even think about using the name of the man who seconds earlier pointed a spear at him."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Jareth had stayed in his position at the gate, more than happy to finally be out of the range of the Orc. The gate would slam hard behind him, the chains losing all of their tension, leaving Stern now officially in the Bulwark. \n\nThe place was almost a work of art. The smaller details of the architecture were lost on the outside, but in a place where the weather couldn't reach and erode them away, a time capsule stood. For as long as the historians of the Order could approximate, the Bulwark had always been there. Of course, they had added to it, but whatever people came before left their mark in a significant way. The building style was one lost to time, still cared for and maintained by a diligent group of protectors. \n\nThey day looked like it was winding down, but that didn't mean that there was any lack of people in the main courtyard. Men and women in plate male and crisp robes alike went about doing their daily work. The scaffolding on the Northern wall extended inwards as well, and the same grouping of tents was taking up what could only be approximated as a sparring yard. The main building, a proper fortress, extended after up onto the mountain it was built against and behind it, cut deep into the stone, were balconies.\n\nThe entire place shimmered with the blaze of bonfire. Huge braziers kept the place well illuminated. \n\nOne of the men stopped when Stern addressed them. He was almost as tall and as broad as Stern, thick plate armor and a broadsword at his back. \"The Grand Crusader?\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nStern observed the architecture of the Bulwark with a pinch of curiosity. In his whole life he had never seen something so distant from natural landscapes or simple huts, houses and palisades at best. Yet what he was looking at now was stone, stone which nobody would have ever needed to replace unlike the rotting thatch roof of a hut or the walls of mud of a round house.\nThe hunter looked at his interloper. He did not know what the word \"Crusader\" Stood for, nor he cared. The fact that the man understood he was asking to see their leader was enough for him. He was still covering his face thanks to the semi darkness of dusk and the scarf on his face. \"I travelled for weeks to bring him something he might need. That you all might need.\" He pulled out of his bag some scrolls, not all of them in case he would have needed to bargain."
}
] | 233 | 1,916 |
201 | 2019-03-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "The Order of the White Rose, the Bulwark\n\nThe Paladin removed his helm, tucking it under his arm. His thick, tow blonde hair had fallen out of it's knot in the jostling and tumbled down his armored shoulders. \"The Grand Crusader will want these. I am sure that he has already been notified of your arrival. What do those scrolls say?\" Most of his attention had been placed onto the scrolls, trying to discern if they were of any malevolent magical energies. The moment his questioning stopped however, he looked up to Stern. \"I—\" The helmet under his arm dropped to the ground as he stepped back into a defensive position. His hand fell over the pommel of his blade as he began to shout, \"Demon trickery, reveal yourself! Strike now while you still have a fighting chance!\" Quickly, men and women around him began to spring into action, drawing bows and unsheathing swords."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, The Bulwark\n\nThe orc emitted a growl as the situation returned to be tense and complex, just as he expected from an order of monster hunters. He unsheathed his dagger and stepped back, taking off his hood and scarf to have a better vision. His green skin immediately visible. The orc got into a defensive stance as Orgun immediately got behind him. \"Your guard let me pass, I already said that I do not want to harm any of you.\" The orc was definitely outnumbered and he could tell by the way the armed people around him were standing, that all of them were more skilled than most of his usual foes. \nStern almost snarled at the paladin who was immediately in front of him. \"It is not time to spill blood... But if you really want to, I'm not going to let you kill me easily.\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "\"Hm... Gotta be careful when around fires, eh?\" Edmund concluded, still suspicious of the lack of burn marks on the man's glove. However, he soon moved on from that little detail to listen to Jestah's proposition. 'Better keep an eye on him' he thought, once again looking the man over while he spoke.\n\n\"Well, considering the type of bloke you are, you're probably not going to take a no for an answer. So, I suppose, you can tag along... As long as you aren't too annoying. As for drinks and stories.. Well, water's going to be the main drink and I doubt I have any stories yet to share with you.\"\n\nHe finally replied, picking his helmet up and putting on before looking upward, at the sky that was slowly turning brighter as they spoke to eachother. \"We'll be moving soon. Sure you can put that fire out?\" He was cautious about leaving the flames unattended - though the forest was frozen, there's always a possibility of a fire...\n\n\"Also, while we walk.. Keep a good five feet distance from myself.\""
}
] | 193 | 603 |
282.75 | 2019-03-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark.\n\nThe orc snarled at the man with the book, understanding little to nothing about what was happening, yet the fact that everyone was now more relaxed was good enough to avoid punching that elder's jaw. He put his dagger away, spitting into the ground. \"Dahk morog shol manek...\" He cursed. \"I hope your \"Grand Crusader\" Won't be as foolish as all of you. Now let me meet him before I lose my patience.\" The orc growled now glaring in annoyance at the last remaining people. He was not enjoying the constant changes between being in danger and being treated nicely, he was pretty sure that another situation like that would have definitely made his anger take over his actions, especially when considering that the light he saw was going against all of his previous knowledge about cold stone. For his people, magic was something only gods and spirits should be able to use..."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, The Bulwark.\n\nVigi took little to no interest in Stern's discomfort or anger, and perhaps unwisely, began dust him off. \"The Grand Crusader...?\" He snapped to attention, bringing his hand swiftly across the orc's arm and carrying a small puff of dust. \"Aye! He'll want to know about this, if he hasn't been contacted al—\" He cocked his head and looked up at Stern, \"And what _is_ that language you're speaking? Why...\" He quickly began flipping through his book, \"We've never heard of such a tongue. So _harsh._ Visceral even. You'll have to tell me m—\" He looked up from him book to see his newfound guest practically huffing with anger. It occured to Vigi in this moment that Stern, if he wanted to, could crush him like an ant. \"We'll talk about this later.\" \n\n\"You said you had scrolls for the Grand Crusader? They wouldn't be covered in some malevolent runes, would they?\" He let out a harsh, wheezing laugh, smacking himself on the knee before making his way to the keep. \"Just a little joke. Those poor things would've been evaporated into a fine mist by the runic magic you just experienced. It was, to _my_ understanding, that you would've also gotten evaporated. Fortunately for you, the launders, the Order and I, you're all in one piece. \" Vigi turned around, before beckoning the orc with a spry wave. \n\n\"Come along then, the Grand Crusader is gettin' old. Old coot goes to bed around noon now, anyhow.\" This was followed by another wheezing cackle."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\nAs the little, annoying man began touching him, the orc emitted another, louder growl. He was about to grab his overly talkative interloper by his neck when Orgun began nuzzling his leg, distracting the hunter for vital seconds and slightly relieving some of the stress he was sustaining. The orc began following the male caring very little about what he had to say and focusing more on the architecture and people around him. He was lager than most doors and the forniture around him was definitely not designed for his gargantuan phisique. He was very interested by the stone bricks and glass windows, curious about that new world where nothing seemed natural and simple like the wildlands he was used to."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah would nod at the mans comments before clapping his hands together. He'd walk around him in a clockwise rotation as he leaves a literal circle in the form of his boots traced around in the now. He'd than too look at the fire and says delightfully \n\n\"I thinks I cans extinguish it ratha fast like, just give me a minute, ya go get ya shite ready!\" The man states trying to shoo Edmund way as Jestah begins doing his \"Magics\" To put the fire out. By magics he seems to grab a lot of snow and just toss it onto the flame ."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nGrumbling a tad, Edmund walked off to gather his stuff of which there wasn't a lot - his quiver of arrows, a dagger and the axe he'd need in the future. Limping towards the tent, he mumbled to himself \"I need to get rid of this bastard in the first city I stumble upon. Reckon I'll have enough of his insanity and broken common speak by then.\" He was angry at the fact that he had such an unfortunate interloper attached to his every step from now on - the man's poor manners, terrible speech and sketchy appearance made a terrible first impression on Edmund. \n\nBut, no matter how reluctant he was to accept this unpleasant companion, he had to do it - two fights to the death were enough for now and, though he'd love to add another head to his already sketched-down kill count, he was at a disadvantage here - his thigh still hurt like hell from the Shaman's jagged blade that was not too long ago jabbed into it. Yes, cauterizing this serious wound had helped a lot, but it certainly didn't stop the seering pain of it. In fact, it amplified it at least by two, if not all ten.\n\nSo there he was: a noble stuck in the frozen woods with some subhuman shitblood that tried to steal from ones like him, unable to force this 'jester' to leave him alone... At least until his wound healed up enough for him to do so. Unpleasant predicament and a tough pill to swallow for a man of pride, but sometimes one must accept the inevitability of some situations...\n\nWith that thought he quickly tied the axe to his belt, sheathed the dagger and lifted his helmet up a bit to allow for better view of his surroundings before turning to his newly acquired satellite:\n\n\"Ready to go, Jester?\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, the Bulwark\n\nStern would find that while the majority of the doors leading in and out of the keep were rather small, the inside was sprawling. There were large gates at the front, currently closed with portcullises, but seeing has how that would've taken a large amount of time to open, not to mention the potential fanfare it would've caused Stern to undergo, Vigi opted against it. It seemed almost impractical, that archways and passages that were nearly all enough for a siege engine to move past. Covering the walls were the same, indecipherable runic language, now much larger. Braziers burned in small alcoves dug out of the walls, and ironwork windows let in constant gusts of refreshing, brisk air. Compared to the already sizable courtyard, the Bulwark was massive. The sound of a choir echoed through the halls, and despite it's gentle sound, the volume was loud and haunting. \n\nMen and women, now mostly disrobed from their armor and donning common clothes, milled about. Most of them carried boxes or pulled wagons behind them, transporting any variety of good from one place to the other. Food, stacks of books miscellaneous crates and sacks, scribes with handfuls of scrolls and warriors with bundles of axes, all moving right past Stern, with only so much as a brief, albeit curious, stare. \n\n\"You don't strike me as a talker. Is this something unique to you, or does everyone of your... Particular disposition act this way?\" Vigi spoke to Stern without so much as a glance. Most of his attention was dedicated to keeping Stern's sizable form out of the way of the other members of the Order. \"For someone coming to see the Grand Crusader, you seem mighty confused. If you have any questions, I can answer them.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nStern's pointy ears could hear the choir perfectly. It was something he found different from the drums and songs of his Clan, something about those voices made him relax, as it reminded him of tge wind blowing through the woods and valleys of Taemar. He was also surprised by the fact that none of the people around him showed anything more than curiosity when looking at him. \n\n\"This... Stone hut... I've never seen something like this before.\"\n\nHe decided to speak, wanting to know more about his surroundings. Orgun was trotting next to the hunter, completely focused on where he was going. The little wolf was beginning to struggle as Stern's steps were definitely bigger than its little paws. The animal emitted a soft growl as to inform the orc, who looked down at it and nodded, taking Orgun into his hand. The wolf nuzzled his thumb, curling up into the greenskin's hand.\nStern petted it with his finger and returned to follow the chattering guide. \"When will we arrive?\""
},
{
"author": "chibiestofdergins",
"message": "Cludia Forestien, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nHours have passed, Cludia's mind hazed with hunger as she had been tracking a Sow and its Farrow in the frozen woods for hours. Maybe it was time to give up, maybe it was time to pick up the pace, she had the prey in sight, well metaphorically in sight, as she only had its scent, not its body. A quiet walk through the snow wasnt that bad for her, she needed to explore her new 'territory' of the woods. Unlike most sub humans, she was more of a wild animal then a civilized Shapeshifter, elf, or what ever else there is, she only knows of food and the occational \"Dont eat, eat bad.\" Though she always wondered what it would be like to have a companion, maybe one of the shoats would make a good pet, always digging in the mud to find things to eat would benefit the wildling well.\n\nA few hours later.\nThe sky darkens as she finally reaches the Sow and her Farrow, three Shoats to be exact. Licking her teeth she would slowly creep closer to them, pulling out a makeshift dagger of sharp stones and rope she took off a dead man she found. Grinning as she darted towards the family, making some quick swipes at the mother trying to take her down as she posed the worse threat. The Sow Biting at Cludia as she bit it back, the two wrestled, biting, clawing, until one of them fell. The Shoats were long gone, but the mother, now covered in claw and bite marks laid dead in the snow, Cludia, covered in bite marks growled lowly and let out a scream of vicroty over the Sow, a Boar would have been better, but this will feed her for quite a while."
}
] | 296.5 | 2,262 |
222.2 | 2019-03-04 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "chibiestofdergins",
"message": "Cludia Forestien, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nCludia Would have spent time skinning the sow she had recently killed, a soft hum escapes her lips as she slowly removed chunks of bloody flesh, skin, and even took some bones as bones sometimes provided good handles for her makeshift weapons. With a sigh, she would wipe off blood off her face and arms and look herself over, dropping into the snow and rolling around, the perfect way to take a bath, the snow now covered in what looked like a blood bath that someone just decided was a good place to roll around, wait, that is what happened... Either way- with her skin moist with freshly melted snow, and a sow that looked like someone mangled to death, she would make her way back to wandering her territory, keeping her fresh meat in a large pouch she gathered from a human merchant who tresspassed in her territory."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, The Bulwark\n\n\"A hut, my boy, is typically made from hardened clay or dirt. This, what you stand in now, could go by many different names. A castle, a fortress, a citadel, but the members of the Order call this place The Bulwark. It's a word that means 'wall'. We start here, in the middle of the North as a wall between the common people and the terrors that might strike at them.\" Their footsteps echoed throughout the halls, the choir persisting, louder as they pass by what appeared to be one of the many monasteries scattered across the halls. Curiously, though, the music did not get any quieter as they left it in their tracks. Some time later, they would pass by another group, singing in perfect synchronicity. \n\n\"We did not build this place, Stern. We found it. What we've been able to gather from this place is amazing. Whoever built this place intended to stay here a long time. Perhaps they did, but they're gone now. We've added onto it, of course. Tried to recreate it the best we could. Some say this place was originally built by the dragons.\" \n\nVigi stopped having come to a fork in the pathways. It was met with a wall, inscribed in the same runic language, filling in the blank space of a mural. A crowd of people, holding primitive weaponry, being burnt to death by a billow of fire. The Ostiary looked craned his neck upwards. The size of the dragon was unlike anything either of them had ever seen. \n\n\"I believe them.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nStern let his hand run across the stone wall on his left \"Bulwark...\" He muttered to himself before looking back at the man. His mind trying to picture something so ancient... Yet more advanced than his tribe. More questions began forming in his mind, yet all of his thoughts stopped as he heard the word \"Dragons\". He got closer to the wall the guide was looking at and instinctively growled as he saw the image of a dragon. Something of that depiction was... Familiar. He felt an unexplicable wave of dread, fear and danger running across his body. \nHe remained silent for a few seconds, his expression darkened by memories he couldn't define nor explain. \n\"Let's continue... I did not come here to stare at a wall.\""
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah would wipe himself off any snow on him, looking around before picking up his daggers holstering both of them into each holster on his thigh. He'd stroll over to Edmund giving the man a thumbs up, the half-breed, not excited to be working with the noble child but he had no other choice, either walking alone in the frozen woods lost, or tolerating the young brat, it was clear working with Edmund as of now would be the best for his health. \n\n\"I'm ready as evah! Let's get ya fine lil ass movin so I could get out of this shite place known as a bloody forest.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad\n\nThe Bulwark, The Witherlands\n\n\"Quite right.\" He had lost the cheery cadence, and made a sharp turn left. \"However, I do hope that at the very least you find yourself impressed.\" As they walked, the atmosphere got increasingly warm. They were heading further into the keep, into the mountain. The oppressive greyish blues of cold dusk gave way to a softer, orange light. The air began to cool off, and people could be seen carrying simple trays of food, a dinner ration. Two slices of bread, a simple gravy, and a thick slab of meat. It was a good meal for anyone not seven and a half feet tall. In their other hand, a fairly large mug of ale. \n\nThe choirs abruptly stopped, and gave way to some more jovial music. What once was a solemn church hymn became a soft tavern song, now accompanied by the chimes of a dulcimer. As they passed by the main hall, Stern would get a brief glance of the long, wooden tables. Most ate their meals quietly, conversing among themselves. A select few, however, were brawling in the center, around a sizable bonfire. \n\n\"Are you hungry?\" Vigi asked."
}
] | 189 | 1,111 |
339.125 | 2019-03-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, Witherlands\nForest\n\n*Pat, pat, pat* The sound of paw prints as Lyla jogged in the snow beside her master. Lumikki would hold her arms close to her side as the cold stabbed at her nose. Her breath, as well as Lyla's was as visible as the snow itself. She'd keep a careful eye out for her surroundings and continue to walk, careful with her footsteps, not wanting to trip in the snow. Lyla would quickly jump in front of lumikki, stopping her in her tracks. Knowing what this meant Lumikki scanned the area around her vigilantly. The wolf would growl and stand protectivly, at something in the near distance. Unable to see clearly through the snow, Lumikki would unsheath her dagger and narrow her eyes. A hooded figure would apear in the blizzard before her. Unable to make out the features she resorted to what she knew best... Killing. She dropped the large cargo of skins and sprinted to the back side of the figure, as Lyla kept her stance distracting the figure from Lumikki. As Lumi approached from behind she'd grab the figure by the head and slit their throat. The body dropped to the floor and she knelt down beside it and wiped her blade on the cloth of their clothes. It was a young man with a handsome structure and blue eyes that now lacked the bright light of life they had before, he was around the same age as her. \"Hic.\" She stated, and the wolf jogged to her side once more. Lumikki sheathed her dagger and searched the body finding a few coins, she stuffed them in her pocket, stood up and grabbed her cargo, slinging it on her back as she turned to leave the body to rot, lyla pranced beside her in the snow with a peice of dried fish in her mouth that she had found from the body. Together they continued to hike through the snow."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Sir Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nFrozen Pines of Morn\n\nAs they walked along the frozen thicket, Edmund thought back to what'd happened mere hours before - he could've been dead from any of the three encounters and yet.. There he was, walking along with just a limp from his wounded leg and a strange shitblood following him around. Speaking of which, his little quips entertained Edmund in a way, although he barely listened - his attention was drawn more to the woods around them... The crunching snow, the quick dashing of a fatty hare here or there and an occasional howl of a warg, singing its lonely song so far away...\n\nAnd then the Jester spoke, breaking the silence and making Edmund wince a bit with at the phrase in the beginning. He listened to the man's tone slowly change as his elaborate question proceeded before snapping back jarringly back to the more foolish one with the broken words and needless \"S'\" All around with caution - the question was about him, after all. Then all fell silent again - Jestah was awaiting his responce. Not hurrying along, Edmund remained silent for a couple of moments, mulling the question and a responce to it over in his head... And soon, his cold voice began to speak once more:\n\n \"Your observation of the fact that nothing is without reason surprises me, given how you are dressed and your manner of speech. However, the answer is way more simple than you think - knighthood gives me the right to inherit my father's estate - the fortress of High Helm. And, as per traditions of ours, I must seek out a higher noble to serve in the court of for a year until I can actually return. I hope this answer's satisfied your thirst for knowledge well enough.\" He finally concluded, walking forth without anything more to say to or ask of Jestah."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad\n\nThe Bulwark, The Witherlands\n\nVigi nodded and continued onwards, deeper into the mountain. The presence of guards was becoming more and more visible. The stone that covered the walls shifted in hew, from the gentle grey to a starker black. The rock looked almost volcanic in nature, and hummed with a soft heat. This section of the Bulwark looked more recent, if _recent_ could be applied to additions that were still probably a half a century old. A few monks, standing on boxes, were busy scrubbing down the walls. The carvings here showed the conquering of dragons, the taming of land, the establishment of the Order. A bare mountain range, one heavily resembling the area they were now in, stood stalwart against the onslaught of violence and terror brought by beasts long since past. \n\nBefore them was a large, open doorway. It was taller then it was wide, and a gentle gust of wind swept by their feet. \"I—\" Vigi began to speak, closed his eyes for a moment, and stepped inside. \"Pray that he's in a good mood. Be gracious or it _will_ be your head.\" He whispered, looking back to Stern with steeled eyes. \n\nThe room holding the Grand Crusader was dark. He hardly ever left it. Things had remained, in this room, the way they were when he donned the mantle. Genn Servius the Third, named after his long dead grandfather and father before him, had been Grand Crusader for longer than anyone could remember. As such, there was an almost alien quality to him. His beard, white with a few strands of blond, was tied so intricately and so tightly that it only came down to his chest. His hands, covered in thick plates of steel, rest at the ends of the arms of his throne, dust on the knuckles.\n\n\"Grand...\" The word seemed to suck the air out from Vigi's lungs, \"Grand Crusader, I have come delivering the visit—\"\n\n\"Stop.\" The voice was deep, dusty. \"Who is it that speaks to me?\"\n\n\"Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, Grand Crusader. You fought alongside my great grandfather, Virgil Bolstad, in the battle of th—\"\n\n\"Aaaaah. Tell the visitor to walk past you. Tell him to come and kneel before me. It is customary.\" \n\nOnly the vague outline of the Grand Crusader could be seen, the area before Vigi and Stern both bathed in darkness."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nStern's eyes were perfectly able to see in the almost complete darkness of the hall, emitting a very subtle hazel glow when some light reached them, similar to the eyes of a cat. The hunter understood the age and power of the man sitting in the throne before him, yet his wild heart had yet to be tamed. He unstrapped the leather strings holding his mantle and top part of his padded clothing, dropping it to the ground, a sign that expressed trust towards the authority he had in front of him. The now bare chested greenskin stepped forward, yet he did not kneel, not knowing what the word \"Kneel\" Actually meant. His almost hellish voice echoed through the hall. \"I am Stern Logarsh, adoptive son of Moradd the Trapper and last living member of the Boar Clan. I walked for many moons to bring you help in your hunt.\"\n\nHis words were simple, almost brutish, a sign of how much the orc had yet to learn about the civilized world. He pulled out of his bags all the scrolls he had with him, waiting for the old hunter to reply."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah would just continue to follow behind Edmund listening carefully as they walked. Tilting his head from one to the other as Edmund spoke seeming to be studying everything the noble was stating.\n\n\"So just a way of ya noble arse to grow moe noble. Can't blame ya wanting that I'm sure ya pah must be really well off. Also ya mention the ways I talk but eres the thing I might speak like a fool but donts mean I dont got the brains and eye to study situations foe what they is\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Sir Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nFrozen pines of Morn\n\nHis pace slowed down a tad so to allow his leg to rest somewhat - the pain was hellish and, coupled with the cold, it made him grit his teeth to hold back a yowl of utter annoyance... But he carried on, though with a slightly stronger limp than before, trying to focus more on the conversation at hand rather than the seething feeling of his burnt wound stretching and ripping itself up a bit with every step he took.\n\n\"Essentially.\" He pushed out with a grunt after Jestah was finished with his little speech. \"As per the way you speek... I suppose I can get used to it.\" He looked forth, noticing something in the cleared-up distance. \"Woahoho! Wouldja look at that? A bloody sign.. We're on the right track here, my friend!\" He pointed to the lonely plack, made of wood with something carved out on it. The wood was dark, frozen - who knows how many years it's stood there, untouched and unnoticed by anyone.. Finally, it could be of some use to this unlikely pair of weary travellers, pointing a way to the closest warm fireplace..\n\n\"Think it's about half a day's worth of a way till we reach Nornver..\" Edmund exclaimed, frankly a bit excited at the prospect of finally getting out of the cold."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah would pace through the snow like it was nothing, having a high dexterity to himself he'd practically be skipping behind Edmund. The snow crunching loudly under Jestahs boot as the man would now be by Edmunds side. As they walk he'd stop to look at the sign tilting his head at it before chuckling as he says in a mocking tone.\n\n\"Well twelve hours ain't to bad to walk, I mean I knows I can walk that long no problem but with ya limping leg ya think ya can handle ya self noble? I mean I wish ya luck with that ...Like seriously break a leg... Oh wait hahahah.\" *Chuckles softly before turning back to the direction they're walking as he would hum a calming tune as they kept making their way to Nornver* \n\n\"I wondah if the news about the house I broke into had spread to that place ..Wells hopefully not I mean I love me a chase but when I enter town I wanna buy both of us a drink cause bloody ell ams I thirsty and needin a good drink.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\n\n\nThe wind had slowed and the snow fell even. It isolated the two of them, cutting out any noise that surrounded them. \n\"Terra Incognita.\" She would command, and Lyla would zig-zag ahead of lumikki, exploring the land and paved a path making sure it was safe. Every now an again the young wolf would lope back to her owner and make sure she was safe, occasionally rubbing against her, then gallop back out a few dozen feet. \n\nThe routine stopped abruptly when Lumikki heard a deep howl up ahead. She'd rush over to see the wolf sitting calmly. \"Quid est?\" At those words, the wolf jumped up and strided ahead as Lumikki followed. Not less than 3 yards ahead a small, semi-permenant hut was visible. She walked up to it and peered in a crack in a boarded up window, nothing but darkness could be seen. She knocked on the door harshy, keeping her oppositie hand close to the sheathed dagger... Not a soul nearby besides the eager wolf that pawed at the wooden door. Lumikki opened the door and was greeted by a Racoon's corpse on the floor and the stench of rotting flesh. She'd kick the corpse into the snow and walk into the dark cabin. She knelt and pulled out a small block of flint and some steel, along with some twine.\n\nThe fire was warm and heated the most of the cabin, considering its size. Lyla layed down near the fire, the frost melting off her already white fur, as lumikki unrolled a few skins and layed them down, she sat on them pulling a few pieces of dried meat from a pouch and chewed em. The wolf lifted her head up and tilted it as her jaw dropped and her tounge rolled out. Lumikki tossed her a small piece and Lyla swallowed it whole. \"Bonum.\" Lumikki said to the wolf as it begged for another piece. \"We will stay here for tonight...\" She began, \"Tomorrow we will try to find a place to buy some food, or water.\" Lumikki tended to speak to her pet often. As she had very little human interaction, since the most she has ends up in blood. \"Bonum nocte.\" Lumikki laid her head down as the wolf coppied and they both drifted to sleep."
}
] | 335.5 | 2,713 |
232.411765 | 2019-03-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands \nFrozen pines of Morn. \n\nGrumbling as Jestah got closer than the five feet that they agreed upon, Edmund stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to face Jestah while the man spoke. As he once again let out a quip about the noble, Edmund closed his eyes in slight frustration:\n\n\"My friend.. Indeed, it is difficult to walk around with a deep wound in one of your thighs, but, judging from past experience of days before, I can safely say that I can manage walking just a little more to get to a good shelter.\" Thus he spoke, looking the silly figure over yet again. \"Also, do not forget about the five feet we agreed upon... If you do not wish a blade in your jugular in the near future.\"\n\nJestah then mentioned the fact that he was slightly worried about the news of him breaking into a noble's house would spread like wildfire. \"As long as you are with myself, you can rest assured that any and all authorities will not question you. So I would advise you to follow the rules I instill.\" He responded blankly, staring out at the snowy road in front of them.. Long way still awaited them and his leg was beginning to grow sore from the terrible pain.\n\n'At least there isn' t much blood to take care of..' the young knight thought to himself, veginning to walk yet again in the direction of Nornver"
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\n*Jestah would only let off a chuckle right in Edmunds face as he says the words a blade in your jugular. In fact, Jestah, would be seen to have not even flinched at any of the comments the noble had said but his chuckling stopped as he looks around the area tapping his mask with his finger seeming to be studying the area almost like he recognizes a landmark of some sort. After a minute of studying he turns to the noble and says:\n\n\"Theres be ay cabin not to far from ere... If I remember correctly. I don't remembah seein no one in der last time I slept inside of it and if we walk there now we could rest up real quick and warm up in der befoe the rest of the ten hour journey to the nearest settlement.\" *Jestahs tone was softer now as he would lead the way now five feet ahead of the man. He'd turn his head to face Edmund as he says with a chuckle \"Don't stabs me in the back now.\" *Clearly mocking Edmunds fear with Jestah* \"I just really wanna warm up when we get there... Once we reach dat we should have a clear path to the settlement.\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn\n\n\"Head for it, if you so wish. I need to get to Nornver.\" He replied, heading forth and not joining Jestah in his small, off course adventure toward toward some 'cabin in the woods' - at this point Edmund was extremely suspicious of this petty criminal, although he hadn't done much so far.\n\nExcited at the prospect of losing him, however, Edmund continued on his way, looking around to see if there were any more signs on the road he'd missed. \"I understand, you are feeling the cold getting to you already. But I cannot head off this road now. And have no intention of doing so. So either follow me to Nornver or we shall part ways for now. I don't mind either of those outcomes, so... Break a leg.\" He chuckled, limping forth rather quickly."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah was also excited at the fact he's gonna lose the honorable noble bra. Jestah reaches a hand behind his back then his other onto his chest executing a showman like bow to Edmund. Jestah then raises himself up his back cracking slightly as he turns more to the direction of the Cabin he was speaking of and begins heading off too it. He'd wave to Edmund as he was leaving saying in a cheerful tone \n\n\"You were delightful but I got my goals, ya keep bein good with ya blade and hopefully next time ya won't have a limp whens we meets. Hope ya get that estate... Ya might just deserve it.\" *Jestah then raises his mask ever so slightly revealing only his smiling mouth. His smile turns into a grin as he says \"And for the leg thing... Not if ya beat me to it. Now with that said a showman like me has to make a decent exist\" \n\n*Jestah pulls his mask down over his grinning mouth as he raises a hand up. Jestah brings his thumb to his middle finger as he performs the snapping his fingers together. PUFF a purple smoke explodes out from under Jestahs feet as it engulfs him. As the smoke clears all that would be left in his spot would be a Joker card and in the distance Edmund could hear something heavy jumping from tree to tree breaking the branches*"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nFrozen pines of Morn\n\nReturning a more elegant, knights bow which the bragger didn't deserve the sight of, Edmund turned around, not listening to Jestah's closing statements - he needed to get to Nornever as quickly as possible. He didn't see the grin nor the merc's face.. He also couldn't see his theatric exit because, by the time that Jestah'd gotten to puffing off into his cloud of dust, he was already a good fifteen meters away from the spot they parted their ways on.\n\nHe headed forth, through the wintry, desolate forest, trying not to attract anymore interesting encounters - all he needed now were a bed and a pint of fiery grog to warm his insides up and let him rest well through the soon-to-come night."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nLumikki would wake to the sound of the fire crackling in the center of the petite cabin... A nice nap, un-inturrupted by nightmares... Hasn't happened in a while. She'd stand up as Lyla lifted her head and watched her master wander around the small quarters, from one boarded window to another. Lumi peered through the holes, unable to see much, only the thick white blanket of snow. She then noticed the wooden door was un-latched, she walked over, yawning slightly and pulled her bandana over her nose, exhaling calmly as she gently knocked the latch shut. She felt safe for a moment, and looked at Lyla, walked back over to her and ruffled the fur of the wolf that now turned it's belly to her owner. Lumikki stayed there a minute and kneeled to her, finding something small to enjoy... The simple company of a trusted companion."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah jumps down from the leaf less branches of the trees surrounding the area. He'd land down as the snow crunches loudly under his boots. His robes were covered in the snow at this point as a small squeak would be heard coming from his pocket. Jestah let's off a sigh as he puts his hand into his pocket clearly stroking something before making his way to the cabin he once stayed in. It would take him an hour more to reach as he stops in his tracks seeing the smoke come from the Chimney tilting his head. \n\n\"Well who the bloody ell came to this part of the forest to hide out?\" *Jestah says to himself before going to the cabin door. A wise man would knock, yell out for someone, anything formal really. Jestah decides to grab the latch of the cabin door and pulls it open saying in a comedic voice \"Ya know I don'ts like people breaking into me ho-.\" *Jestah cuts himself off as he sees a giant wolf that probably is about to maul him alive* \"Well I see the wolf pelt carpet I asked for came in fresh hahaha.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nLyla quickly flipped up from her eased position and leaped in front of Lumikki, growling and snarling at the interloper as Lumikki quickly unsheathed her dagger and stood in a ready position. \"Paratus!\" She called to her K-9 as the wolves growling intesified and she slowly crept forward. \"What do you want?\" Lumikki snarled herself, at the stranger as her beast of a wolf enclosed slowly, white fur, yellow eyes, and an intent to kill. Lumikki's glare wasn't much off, accept for, instead of, yellow eyes and white fur, she stood dressed in a black hood with a bandana under her heterochromic eyes. One brown, one blue...\"I don't show mercy\""
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah taps his mask as he listens to her speak as he stomps his foot down and shakes his body as the snow flies off him smacking the wolf and girl. No real danger there just a little bit of random wetness smacking against your face and clothing. Jestah chuckles softly before bowing to her not answering her quest yet as he introduces himself like a showman is speaking to a crowd \n\n\"Well doll eyes... Names Jestah! Jestah the Laughing Showman at ya service! Best showman, trickstah, and moe of Marin. At ye service... Im's a,makin me way to a settlement but needed to makes a pitstop and ye so happen to be in me cabin I stay in ere and there, lass.\" *He'd turn to the fire walking over to it as he snaps his fingers and the flame seems to grow a little giving off a light roar as he sits down and pulls out a baby mouse from his pocket holding it out to be warmed by the flame* \"Nots complainin though love me some company... Expecially one so lovely but i'm just ere to warms up real quick.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nLyla would growl shaking the snow off her, un-sure of what to do, awaiting comands from her master. Lumikki would wipe the snow from her face in disqust at the lack of desency from the traveler. \"Relevabor\" She commanded to the wolf. Lyla immediatly relaxed her stance and trotted over to the jester, biting the clothes and yanking them, wanting to play, completely oblivious. Lumikki would dust herself off, seeing that he doesn't pose a threat. \"You have no sense of direction... Clearly...\" She'd mumble slightly as she sheathed her dagger, the wolf still tugging and shredding parts of his clothes. Not trusting him, but also not threatening him. She walked over to the door, closing it against the wind and latching it once more. The wolf then took interest in the mouse in his hands and took it in her mouth gently, then loped over to Lumikki who was walking back to a small stool. \"Stillabunt.\" Immediatley Lyla dropped the mouse in her hands, she held it up by the tail. \"Esurientem?\" She waved the mouse slightly as the wolf barked, sticking her tounge out in hunger as beads of spit dripped and hung from her mouth. Lumikki continued to wave the mouse as she looked back at the Jester. \"This your place?\" She would state calmly, ignoring Lyla's barks for the \"Food\" She held."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah seems to stay calm as he rubs the wolfs head as it pulled on his pants as she ripped the cloth it would reveal his pants made of leather underneath the robe. He'd push himself up from the floor the floor creaking underneath Jestah, he'd slowly approach the woman swaying as he flicks his wrist and a deck of cards flies out of his sleeve. Jestah shakes the deck as all the cards fly out from within landing somewhat smoothly on his left palm. Jestah would flick his left hand as a card flies out and explodes into confetti as he chuckles at this saying \"Huh... Not what I was goin foe but i'm impressed.\" *Jestah then hears Lumikkis question and simply states \n\n\"Yes and no, doll eyes, I live ere once in a while but it's not my house officially nevah bought it but since this shite is abandoned nevah thought anyone would stop by.\" *He looks her up and down* \"But of all people ya really are the most eye catchin ahhaha.\" *He'd snicker as he holds his hand out as the mouse jumps from Lums hand landing onto Jestahs as it climbs up to his shoulder snuggling into his neck* \"Got any bread,cheese,whatevah? Lil guy is starvin.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nShe would scoff at his flattery and cheap tricks. Though slightly amused at his easy going attitude and calm personality. Lyla would loop around the stool she sat on and lay at lumi's feet. She would reach in her pouch and pull dried meat, tossing it to the wolf. Feeling slight sympathy as she looked at the tatered clothes of the jester, she'd reach into a pouch on her leg and pull out a small loaf of stale bread. \"This is all I've got...\" She'd break the bread in half and hand him the half gently in an extended hand. Lyla yawned and stretched, lowering her head. Noticing the relaxed disposition of the wolf, Lumikki began, \"Also, the name's Lumikki, not 'doll face'\" She would say with a slight urch at the nick name."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nFrozen pines of Morn\n\nMeanwhile the knight continued on his way towards Nornver. His thigh was hurting like a beast and he was tired, but yet... There was a twinge of satisfaction tingling inside him - he was alone once again, back on his course and, hopefully, would not meet anyone else besides the villagers from the settlement ahead. Darkness slowly lowered itself onto the Witherlandian sky, turning it a deeper shade of blue - the night was, once again, upon Edmund and he needed to either pick up his pace or settle down for another night.\n\nHe stopped, pondering the two options of his and looking out, into the cold dark beyond. Suddenly, a flash of light gave him hope - he was closer to the village than he estimated! He grumbled and growled with a smile, pushing his hurting leg to its limit as he began to almost skip towards the distant flame, full of hope."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\n*Jestah had reached in grabbing the piece of stale bread. Jestah had inspected it a little before reaching over to his thigh pulling out a blade as he had pressed the blade harshly against it and cut off a small piece. Jestah then takes the small piece offering it to the baby mouse as it grabs it and begins biting into it like it was the most savoriest thing the little mouse had ever eaten. Jestah then looked to Lumikki and chuckles at what she said before replying with.\n\n\"Ya knows I said dolls eyes cause of the toy like nature of em nots dolls face. Though I do thank thee foe the bread will come useful untill I gets into town. Soooo *Jestah had tapped the mask like he was thinking* \"Lumikki, what brings ya here? Alone in the freezing area known as only the Frozen Pines of Morn.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\n\"Doll eyes~\" She would roll hers as she spoke, drawn out and sarcastically. She placed her hand on her dagger's sheath on her upper thigh, uncertain of his actions with the dull blade he held. \"I was... Just passing through is all. I tend to... Travel-a lot.\" She said, hiding something that wasn't so easy to spot. Lyla stood up and walked back over to Jestah, rubbing her head against his leg and playfully nipping at his arm. \"Veni...\" Lumikki commanded, the wolf quit what it was doing and moseyed back to her, sitting tall. Lumikki's eyes wandered back up to the jester, studying his frame and attire. \"What's with the mask?\" She said, as she gestured to her own bandana that masked her face. The wolf then rolled on her back, clearly comfortable and calm with the company. Lumikki noticed and figured he couldn't possibly have bad intentions, considering Lyla would pick up on it quickly. She looked back at the Jeser, curious as to what lie under the worn out mask of his."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\n*Jestah pulls the blade back to his side, sliding it into his holster. He'd spend a moment to studying the clearly well dressed female infront of him before shrugging casually at her question. Jestah would take a moment to think about her question not saying much before snapping his fingers as he holds his arms out to his side pretty much indicating look at me as he replies with \"I wear dis ...For my own reasons not too hide, not to runaway from something but just cause I want to make those around stare at me. Too wonder what I am, to ask questions, to be intrigued because that's what makes a showman great. To capture your audience and clearly it's working with you.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn (cabin) \n\n\"Tch\" She would roll her eyes at his final remark, knowing it was true, that she was, in fact, intruiged. She wanted to know more, so she stood up. Lyla followed, as lumikki walked over to him, playing a role, what she does best, getting close to her targets. She would bat her eyes once and draw a devilish smile as she lifted her hand to the cheek of the mask and gazed into the eye holes of the mask. \"Well what if we... Took it off?\" She smirked, still using her acts to the best of her ability and it was working. The wolf wagged her tail and watched the two stand, their faces inches apart. \"So what'll it be?\" She ran her hand down the cheek of the mask and wrapped her fingers around it gently, as her opposite hand held close to her dagger, just in case, but it was unnoticed. *Get close to you're targets* She thought as she gazed into the dark slits of eyes."
}
] | 237 | 3,951 |
223.571429 | 2019-03-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands \nFrozen pines of Morn (almost at the border of Nornver) \n\nThe grand flame shone brighter and grew bigger as Edmund stepped forth and towards the little town - Nornver was mere minutes away! \"Dear gods, this is agonizing..\" The man grumbled to himself, limping further, through the heaps of snow that separated him from rest, warmth and comfort for his wounded and strained leg...\n\nHowever, something was on his mind the whole time he walked - why did the residents of Nornver need this giant, almost ritualistic fire? 'What could they be celebrating?' he wondered, wincing in discomfort fromtime to time as curiosity inside him grew..\n\nUnbeknownst to him, there was, indeed, a festivity to be had by the people that lived in this small, cozy-looking settlement - it was an annual holiday in the name of the town's first founder, whose name was lost to time... He was the man who'd first settled Nornver almost a century ago that day. Through all odds he found a safe place for it to stand and not be harassed by the monsters that lived all around the pines of Morn. First building that sprang up was a temple to warship the frozen Gods that were merciful enough to let him survive to build up Nornver. Then the rest began to spring up around it as the hunters, miners, beggars and adventurers began to trickle into this new life. And, half a century later, what was first just a temple in the wintry desert became a small, bustling town with its own traditions and holidays to uphold...\n\nSomething wasn't right, however: as Edmund's uneven, crunching footsteps approached Nornver, they weren't drowned out in the sounds of festivities, songs and drunken celebration - the town lay dormant, quiet.. Without any sign of life to it. \"This is not right..\" Edmund wgispered, slowing his pace down and stepping carefully forward. His mind filled with dread and confusion, he called out:\n\n\"Oi, is anybody out there?\""
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\nJestah tilted his head at her \"Flattering\" Nature seeming to be studying it for a second as it almost looks like she got her way with him. Jestah had reached his hand up taking hers and holds it in a passionate manner. As he takes her hand he'd bring her closer to him holding her hand like it was a ball. Jestah studied her expression under his mask before spinning her as she got closer to him before moving out of the way before continuing the dance with her as he then let's off a laugh.\n\nJestah said in a mocking tone \"An audience member trynna get with me already? I'm flattered I really am but lass, ya lovely n all but it takes moe then a seductive glide around my mask to get me act different to the show i've presented. \"Jestah gave a sarcastic clap of his hands to her as he says \"Ya were so close but sadly I don't thinks ya got what it takes to handle my acts.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn (cabin) \n\nLumikki would narrow her eyes at him and take a step back at first, angered at his mocking tone and *Displeasing* Dance, then she lowered her eyes to the floor and hid her face from him.\n\nLumikki looked back up to him as a smile, a genuine one, was seen beneath her bandana. She tilted her head to the side, the smile grew and her eyes slightly squinted. \"You know, you're pretty clever, for a fool.\" She would tilt her head straight up. \"What'll it take for you to take off the mask?\" She said as the smile faded and her eye's grew dull, the reality of things setting in. *I hate bounty hunters*"
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\nJestah shaked his head before he shrugged his shoulders rather casually. He'd begin walking around her looking around her body, noticing the blades, the curvy figure, pretty much studying everything that's infront of him. Jestah had rubbed under his chin before he simply stated\n\n\"You thinks lil ol me is clevah? Nows that's a new one! Also I don't thinks ya got anything I want on yah. Especially to show me face off takes something real special to ever have me take me mask off.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn (cabin) \n\nShe would keep an eye on him as he circled her, she was unsettled, distrusting. She then sighed as he finished his circle and heard his words. \n\nShe walked back over to the sheepskins that lay in the corner, where lyla was laying. \"Autem.\" She commanded, and the dog stood up as lumikki took a seat on the skins where the wolf once lied. Lyla walked over and circled around the feet of Jestah and lie at his feet instead of his masters. \"She's taken a liking to you ya know...\" Lumikki mumbled as she rested her wrist on one knee, rocking her head back against the wall. \"Normally you would have already been in shredded slivers of meat on the fire. That speaks a lot of you.\" She closed her eyes."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\nJestah seemed to show no signs of fear towards the beast as he reached a hand out to pet it. If the creature would allow Jestah to pet her he'd glide his hand up and down her head before he reached his hand towards her ear and strokes it slowly seeming to know the animals favorite spots before just kneeling down to rub it's belly. Jestah turned his head to face at Lumikki as he says in a acheerful tone \n\n\"Well of course she likes me, creatures of her natchya can detect peoples emotions right? Right. Sooo if i'm always happy it can't sense dangah sooo it's sees me as a play mate or a decent being even if I wanted to stab ya in the neck it couldn't detects that part of my inner ambition hahhaha... Kiddin kiddin would nevah stab ya in the throat! That would really leave ya CHOKING up ..Get it? CHOKING?! Eeeeh whatevah. I just have a nature to me ...I'm always liked by those around me even ya cold hearted ass might find me charming or atleast interesting enough to keep around.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn (cabin) \n\nLumikki would open her eyes and gaze at him, disinterested in his puns. \"Cold hearted, huh?\" Wouldn't surprise me as that being your first impression. I have my reasons, I needn't you point out the obvious.\" She could feel the darkness outside, knowing it was night she outstretched her legs on the sheep skin and layed down on the floor closing one eye. \"Not that I trust you or anything, I trust that Lyla has good judgment, regardless what you say... Veni.\" The wolf stood from where the jester was, giving a lick on his hand and trotted over to lumikki, laying by her side protectively. \"Hope you don't mind me staying the night in your cabin.\" She rolled to her back and closed the other eye, drifting into a light slumber."
}
] | 195 | 1,565 |
155.75 | 2019-03-14 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\nAs Lumikki had awakened from the dread known as a night terror and focused onto Jestah shed realize he was still like a doll... The darkness of the room with only the light of the fire keeping visual on his mask. Something just may have felt off about this but before Lumikki could do anything he moves his shoulders slightly giving off a groan before going right back to sleep. His masked face still aimed straight upon her."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, Witherlands\nThe pines of Morn(cabin) \n\nLumikki noticed the unsettling nature of the mask and sit up quietly. Lyla popped her head up \"Manere\" She whispered to the wolf. (It means stay) she stood quietly and walked over, her footsteps lighter than air. Not a sound was made and she crouched down to the jester, studying the mask and she gently put her hands on the mask, so he wouldn't notice. She pulled the mask up, slowly revealing his face."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\nAs Lumikki grabbed the mask and began to slowly lifting to reveal what was under Jestah mask, Lummikki would hear SLING as one of his dull blades had been unsheathed and he'd press it against her chest as shed see only enough to get a good glance at his bright wide . Jestah,gripped his mask with his other hand not letting her pulling anymore up as he says in a cheerful voice with the blade pressed in between her chest \"Now lass thats not the BREAST idea on ya part. Unless ya wanna continue dis show I humbly suggest you let go.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \n\n\nAs the blade was pressed against her chest, she let go of the mask and playfully ran her hand down his arm to the blade, slightly adding pressure. \"Would it satisfy you? To kill me?\" She questioned, looking directly in his eyes and tilting her head. She then grinned and began to giggle, it was chilling and almost disturbing. She abruptly stopped as she adjusted her bandana. \"I understand, we both have secrets... Dark ones.\" Letting go of his hand lightly, she winked, turned her back to him and her smile faded as she dropped the act, walking over to the wolf and sitting down by the fire calmly, unphased by him holding a knife to her chest. She let out a light sigh and leaned her wrist on her knee."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\nJestah stared out towards the female known as Lumikki, he'd stay quiet for a second before a slight chuckle was heard from under his mask, slowly his chuckle turned into laughter as he face masks. Jestah then shaked his head meaning no at her comment replying to her statement as his voice seems to change to a more elegant manner.\n\n\"You're wrong there, I wear a mask for show, I don't run from others, I don't hide from those in the dark, my secrets aren't dark infact I don't think anything I have is dark, to me everything is funny, a joke, another act to show off. I just don't want my mask taken off for the reason of keeping up a mystery not because i'm scared, not because hahaha i'm hiding from others, tsk tsk theres more to it Lum. *His tone changes back to his more comedic nature* Yous an interesting one, I likes ya, hopefully when this night is ovah you n I cans go out and get's to the city or any bloody settlement\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, the Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn (cabin) \n\nShe stood up and walked to one of the boarded up windows, peering through a crack she noticed that there was a glint of light on the snow. Lumikki turned back inside and began to roll up the sheep skins. \"If you aren't hiding anything, why don't you show me?\" The assassin made no eye contact with the Jester and continued to strap the skins to her back. Lyla rose from where she lay and walked over to her owner. Lumikki pulled open a cupboard on the wall and searched them, finding a small jar of lavender and sage. She turned to the wolf and opened the small sack that resembled a saddle bag, drapped over the wolf and cinched around the beast, dropped the jar inside, and closed the leather pouch. Turning towards the door, lumi shut the cupboards she rumaged."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah, Witherlands\n\n\n\n\nJestah would laugh softly under his mask as he replied with a simple three words \"It's a mystery.\" He'd then proceed to do some jazz hands as he repleid with those simple words .*"
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands"
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah got up from the chimney and dusted himself off real quick. Jestah would raise his hand down as he picked up the baby mouse that was sleeping near the flame keeping warm and pocketed it as it let off a tired squeak. He'd stroke it's head before leaving through the door and following behind the woman and gave her a quick reply of \"Ya leaving without even a goodbye?! The path is lonely lass, imma follow ya to keep ya company!\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\n\n\nLumikki tracked forward ignoring the comment of the Jester, slightly unsettled that he was behind her, but was honestly glad for company. Lyla ran back and looped around the jesters feet a few times, tripping him up playfully and nipping at his shoes. \"Veni\" Lumikki comanded and the wolf came back to her side. \"Terra incognita.\" She stated, the wolf darted out ahead making sure the path was clear. \"How long you plan on following me? I don't think you will be pleased with my destination you know...\" She trudged on through the thick snow, as it crunched beneath her feet she kept a close ear out to make sure the tag along wasn't doing anything fishy."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah would yelp as he got tripped into the cold snow before he looked up at the wolf shaking his head as he says out quickly\"Oh ya playin dirty?\" Jestah got back up grabbing a hand full of snow with his gloves and shoved it into the poor wolfs face yelling out \"NO MERCY!\" Before a playful giggle came out as he skipped to the side of ,Lumikki, and the wolf went off to clear a path he'd scratch his mask like he was scratching his chin before he just simply snapped his fingers replying with \n\n\"As long as I feels like it, till I find a bettah place to stay, or untill ya tries to kills me, besides if it's that bloody bad than I knows for a fact I'lls enjoy it to the max! So where we goings anyway lass dol- ahem *Jestah cleared his throat* \"Lumikki, is it a underground crime ring, is it a drug cartel, is it a secret place! Oh oh oh do tell!\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn \n\nA slight smile would grow on my face as he grumbled at Lyla. It faded as he caught up to beside me. \"First off, i wouldn't kill you unless you gave me a reason,\" She turned her head to him as they walk and glared, turning her head back to the path.\"Secondly, it isn't that bad, just with your... Stature-\" She slightly smiled, playfully. \"Let's just say you wouldn' t be good without weapons.\"She'd snicker as she held onto the straps that secured the sheepskins to her back. \"It's simply a brawl, for money... I need it...\"She had begun to forget who she was speaking with. \"I haven't had a tar-\" Lumikki stopped herself from continuing, worried he might get an idea of who she truly was. \"I just need some extra money... For food.\" She pulled her hood higher to shade her face."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands,\nNornver, at last.\n\nThe man's footsteps crunched through the already stomped-down snow - he'd finally built himself up to enter the quiet town with another question:\n\n\"Is anybody out there?\" His voice echoed through the woods behind him, yet there came no reply besides the quiet whistle of the wind and the common creek of a swaying pine... It felt like he was alone, entering the settlement. Lifting up the visor of his sallet, Edmund stepped through the seemingly abandoned town, carefully treading his path towards the town's square - perhaps everyone was gathered there and preoccupied with some ritualistic celebration of sorts. That is what he thought while stepping through the frozen cobble beneath his feet and looking around at the thatch and stone of the town's roofs to see if there was a trap laid out for weary travellers such as himself.\n\n\"I'd just like to rest up from my journey!\" He called out once again, to no avail or responce - Nornver stayed hollow and bleak in the dispersed, grey-ish light of the hidden sun, hiding its mysteries from the new arrival.\n\nLimping closer to the main square where the festivities were to be had he suddenly froze in his tracks, looking at one of the houses. It's door was unlocked. Not even closed. That surprised the young man..."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn \n\nJestah nodded at her comment but clearly didn't know what else to say so he kept silent and let her lead the way out of the place"
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nThe abandoned city of Nornver.\n\nThe door was slowly swaying back and forth on its hinges, unattended to by anyone. Edmund watched it swing for a couple of moments before slowly approaching and drawing his sword:\n\n\"Hello? Is anybody inside?\" He enquired, looking into the building cautiously. What he saw inside, unnerved him even more - overturned furniture, little sprinkles of snow laying dormant and many, many footsteps which led out of the structure.\n\nAfter a few moments of curious hesitation Edmund decided against heading inside to instead investigate the square as he intended before - something'd gone terribly wrong, it seemed.\n\nLimping forward, through the claustrophobic streets of the small town, he began to notice strange, almost surreal details about his surroundings: broken plates, more opened doors and not a single sign of anybody living in sight as if everyone'd suddenly vanished or, worse.. Died off in Nornver. It wouldn't be a rare occurrence in the Witherlands, no, but Edmund never expected something like this to happen to a town he knew well was flourishing.\n\n\"What could've caused it?\" He wondered, getting closer to a place that would give him more clearance, as he thought."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, the Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn \n\nShe grunted, slightly disappointed that he didn't laugh at her joke. Lyla howled up ahead, Lumikki jogged up, knowing, through the wolf's tone, that it wasn't urgent. She came to a worn out sign with the wolf sitting next to it. It was familiar to Jestah. \"We got a little ways to go.\" The wolf wagged it's tail as Lumi pointed out ahead and she took off again, paving the snow. \"Lyla and I are headed to Horn Hills, by the way, if you know an easier route, let me know, Jestah...\" She turned to the trench that was paved by Lyla and followed it, passing by the dystopian like settlement."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn \n\nJestah had laughed under his mask but very slightly trying hard to not be heard. He didn't want to give her the benefit of knowing she can make this fool laugh. He skipped by her side in the cold pines of mourn as the snow crunched under his boots. He'd seem to be getting bored as he looked around the frozen pines that surround him as he sighs in boredom \"Eeeeh the closest city that's alive is about 6 or so hours from ere. Might as well pass the time! What ya gonna do with the cash if ya win?\" He looked over to her tilting his head \"Gonna spoil me to some dinner? Cause gonna be honest I love me a nice steak I can'ts even lie.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn \n\nShe would tilt her head up to the canopy of leaves as the sunlight shown through them. She would slightly smile at the serenity, the company, the warmth. Things were okay... She paused thinking about the question. \"Pocketing it... For traveling, perhaps a trip to the tavern.\" She turned her head to him, smiling, wishing she could see who was under the mask. Lumikki wasn't happy, not content, not even joyful. She was simply satisfied with the company and feeling of being wanted for once. After all what was happiness, she doesn't remember. She can't even love. Realizing this , her smile faded as she turned her head back. The darkness in her eyes never fades."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Jestah would keep his pace up to keep up with her. He was pratically shoulder to shoulder with her as he walked in the cold winter land known as the Pines of Mourn. Jestah seemed to show no signs of anything nothing really changed with how he acted he'd occasionally whip his cards out doing an interesting trick here and there seeming to still try to entertain the rather audience of one. \"Can't says I blames yah, I'd pocket all that gold foe my own self as bloody well but the issue be that I like to buy nice trinkets and tools foe me acts.\" He'd then kneel down acting like he's tying the lace on his boot before she heard what sounds like snow being lifted and WHACK a snowball rammed to the back of her head as he chuckles yelling out \"WHOOPS FORGOT TO SAY HEADS UP!..Get it?! HEAD!?\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, theWitherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn \n\nLumikki stopped in her tracks, she whistled and Lyla came running back at her side. \n\nLumi turned to face Jestah. \"Paratus\" She stated calmly. Being obedient, the wolf began to snarl. \"Impetus!\" She commanded, the wolf lunged forward and tackled the jester to the floor, holding him down with her weight. Lumikki, had never had a snowball fight and figured he was threatening her. She unsheathed her dagger and walked over kneeling down and holding it to his throat as the wolf kept him on the cold snow. \"After I offered to buy you a drink ,eh?\" She tilted the blade closer."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah let's off a loud yelp as he get's knocked down by the wolf the snow under him crunching and flying up covering the masked man in it and the wolf slightly aswell. He'd attempt to get up but then felt the weight against his body leaving him pinned against the ground. He'd next see was the edgy bastard known Lumikki who clearly aimed her blade towards Jestahs throat in the intent of murder. He'd chuckle at the sight of this mockingly stating \"You look silly, imma call ya, Miss.Edge, cause clearly yous all about bein edgy. Seriously calm ya lovely arse down alls I did was smack ya face with a bloody snowball dats about it. Nevah hads a snowball fight or someting?\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn \n\n\nLumikki eased her possition, \"Relevabor.\" She said, the wolf jumped off him and began to lick his cheek under the mask, she slightly pushed it on accident. Then she nudged him gently. \"Snowball... Fight?\" She sheathed her dagger calmly and stood up, extending an arm to help him up as well. The wolf stayed by Jestah's side and rubbed against him. \n\"What is a snow ball fight?\""
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \nThe Pines of Morn\n\nJestah snickered to himself as the wolf licked his mask presumably where his cheek was located as he pushes himself up . He'd begin patting his body down from the snow on him. He'd kneel down once more to grab some snow forming it into a ball. As he finished making it he'd hold it out for her and says \"Aight, so dis be a ball, it's made of snow... I know magic ahhaha.\" *He'd then toss it up then it falls down lands in his hand . He'd does that a for few seconds before saying \"Now a fight is when you attack one another right? So you attack one another with these balls but the bright side ya can't really hurts no one with em. So it's just a friendly kids game ya should try it!\" As Jestah says you shoulder try it he reels his arm back before throwing the ball at her face once more.*"
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn \n\nLumikki knelt down and grabbed snow, then chucked it at Jestah, hitting his mask and getting some in the eye slits. She smiled and said, \"We mustn't waste too much time, but I suppose a few minutes of 'fun' can't hurt.\" She balled up some more snow, creating around four or five snowballs and hurled them one by one. There was a genuine smile on her face..."
}
] | 168 | 3,738 |
209.555556 | 2019-03-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\nIron Plains\n\nNirvana holds her arms tightly to herself, treading through the snow and harsh winds, heading south. She shivers, seeing her breath which nearly has blinded her with every step she took. The thicket of trees can easily misdirect her, but she heads forward, making sure she cant turn in any way to guide her off to the west. Slowly, she stomps through the snow and with a larger, thicker jacket she stole, which heated her up almost enough to keep going. He stopped at a pair of trees and sits on the side of it. Her brown hair feels like its frozen, she doesnt want to go up and feel it, her hands are numb. \nAfter a few minutes, she decided to get up, because she had figured if she stayed where she was, shed be dead. Using her long bow, she worked it like a cain and pushed herself to keep walking. She starts seeing cabins, but cant go up and simply knock on the door. That would be *Stupid*, she thought. \nWith her hood on, she can hear slight wind going the opposite direction of her. She starts walking a little bit slower, inspecting the area."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nThe heart of Nornver.\n\nHeading forth and through the piling-up snow, Edmund finally entered the town's square and turned his head in disgust - he'd found some of the residents of Nornver. They were all dead, strung across the place in poses of utter agony. There weren't any scratches, bite marks, nothing on them - they died due to a disease.\n\n\"So Nornver is no more..\" Edmund muttered out, walking away from the town's square as fast as he could - he needed to find a torch or something flamable.. He had to destroy the source of this disease so that he wouldn't contract it either."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\nIron Plaines\nWalking through the snow that is already at her calves, Nirvana finds a town not too far from her. *Thank god* , she thinks, pushing her numb legs a little faster now, excited to get a least a little something for herself, since she ran out of good food. \nAlas, she was hesitant about entering a new area that people might know her. There would be no way that a place that big would have occupants that didnt know who she was. Back and forth, she debated on what to do. She finally decided to enter the city, but remain undetected.\n\nNirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\nIron Plaines\nHer stomach aches from hunger, and she has no money. She shivers, stops to warm herself up and continues. This repeats a few times. Then, she sat down by even more dead plants and snow pockets , grabbing what she needed for entering a place that had people in it. She pulled her hood over her head, carried her bow instead of having it on her shoulders, and cleared snow from the inside of her boots. The patches on her clothes froze areas of her body, the small holes eating her away. Her fingers that were even covered with gloves were too thin to prevent frostbite. Luckily, the coat she took was very warm to her, she laid it on her legs like a blanket."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn \n\nJestah had left off a loud laugh as the snow get into his face and even managed to sneak into his mask in certain open areas. He'd shake his head like a dog as he then kneels down forming a three more snowballs rather quickly in his nature. He'd hop up with the three in his hand as he began juggling them rather impressively. A true sleight of hands this man has as he then throws one at her face the other at her chest and the last at her gut each following one another he'd then dash behind a tree trying his best to avoid the onslaught of snowballs that would be now thrown towards him ."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, the Witherlands\nPines of Mourn \n\nLumikki, covered in snow, turned to him behind the tree and walked over slowly, she peeked around the corner and slapped one right in his face, she began to laugh. This time, it wasn't a laugh of mocking, it was a genuine laugh. She hadn't truly laughed in years. Brushing the snow off herself, she patted the jester on the shoulder and smiled beneath her bandana, a glint of light in her eyes. \"Thank you...\" She stated, as she walked onward through the paved snow. \n\nThis caused her to think... She hadn't truly laughed since... Justin. \n\n*Idle hands are the Devils playground*\n\nHer smile quickly faded as she continued down the path. Her eyes faded again... And a single tear fell to the snow, emotionless..."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\nIron Plaines / and Pines\n\nAfter getting her stuff ready, she gets up and slowly walks, making sure snow didnt go into her boots, but it already happened with the first step she took. She saw the white, freshly laid snow that the heavens put down for her. \n\nShe got a feeling of homesickness, missing her fathers warm embrace. The fire in her cabin, the sheets she surrounded herself in, its pale color resembling the snow. The image faded to black and white, where she realized she *Doesnt* Need them. She *Doesnt* Want them. Her own anger made her walk again, nearing a general population of people, playing with the snow and their families watching them protectively, and the anguish got Nirvanas mind so focused on pushing away thoughts that she tripped on a dead limb of stump from a tree. \n\nShe quickly caught herself, muttering curses and continues, with her hood pulled down and arms crossed, her bow held by the middle of her right hand. She heard the sounds of snowball fights and horseplay made her feel worse."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn \n\nJestah would yell out as a snowball had been slapped right into his face by the assassion lady. The yell would echo through the woods as he falls down to the snow and let's off a laugh. Almost like second nature to him he had to make a pun saying quickly \"You cold bastard!\" He'd snicker at his own pun as he reels his legs to his chest before kicking them up to kick his whole body up as he dusts himself of the snow before it begins soaking his body in it. \n\nJestah adjusted his mask looking out to the Lumikki as he called out \"Ya know I didn't know ya could express much emotion, suits ya, might flatter the audience when ya join the arena with dat fact hahah.\" *He'd let off a small showman chuckle before noticing her expression became grim again as he sighs* \"Well figured ya wouldn't stay cheerful for too long but ay shows ya that i'm good at what's I do!\" *As he claps his hands with the snow in them, the moment the hands touch and he opens them up, POOF, it explodes out in sparkles and glitter* \"I just sparkle with entertainment.\""
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, the witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn\n\nAs they walked for hours on end, the sky became dark again. \"Perhaps a place to rest would be... Suffice.\" At those words a howl was heard up ahead. Lumikki jogged up a bit to the wolf who sprang around her legs and led her to a small cave, just big enough to block the wind. As Lumi walked into the mouth of the cave, she scruffed up the fur on the head of the wolf and said \"Bonus, puella!\" (Good girl) then proceeded to start a fire with the flint and steel she kept handy. Followed by rolling out the skins and laying down. Before a word was said, she laid down saying, \"Tomorrow we are leaving before the crack of dawn.\" , turned over and fell asleep. Lyla circled up and laid right next to her, the size of the wolf compared to the girl was grand, but she was the only protection the girl had."
},
{
"author": "soviet.inc",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn \n\nJestah holds his stomach as a slow rumble was heard even for the man who was energetic and used to the fact of travelling for hours at a time was getting close to his limit. He was starving, tired, and realizing this was not an ideal travel conditions. As he begins resting for a bit she'd notice that his body was rather still, it wasn't shivering, it wasn't moving, he was just comfortable in this cold, freezing cave. Maybe the thin robes kept him warm? Who knows but all you'd see is Jestah laying there, as he slept calmly without any protective covering."
}
] | 213 | 1,886 |
598 | 2019-03-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald , the Witherlands\nThe Pines of Mourn\n\nLumikki woke to the sound of his stomach rumbling, rolled over and noticed him laying there, she studied his clothes... They were thin and worn. For some reason she felt this feeling of needing to help... Something that forced her to get up, take one of the sheep skins, walk over and drape it on top of him. She sent Lyla out to kill something, sat down beside him, hoping he wouldn't wake. *How demeaning* She thought *For him to wake... As I was helping..* After a few minutes the wolf returned with a white rabbit in her chomps. \"Bueno, puella...\" Lumikki whispered. As she took the rabbit from her mouth, she unsheathed a small skinning knife from her lower leg. She stuck the rabbit with the blade and began to skin it. She'd toss the guts to the wolf and Lyla nearly swallowed them whole. Lumikki then stood up and walked out into the snow, a chill ran down her spine. She knelt doen and picked up a stick , walked back in, grabbing the skinned rabbit and stabbing the stick from its back end and through the mouth.\n\nShe sat there a while... The rabbit slowly roasting on the fire. *Please don't wake up..* The sent of the freshly cooked rabbit, was filling the cave. *Shit... Do not wake up...* She tried waving the smoke away, but the wind from outside only blew it back. Lumi took the rabbit off the stick, protected from the heat with her gloves, and pulled the meat off the rabbit, stuffing some in her pouches and pulling out a small square of fabric. She then wrapped some of the tender, warm, meat in it and laid it gently on the lap of the jester. Walking back over the other sheep skin, she laid back down as lyla circled up again, and they both fell asleep. *Don't wake up...*"
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\nIron Plains/ Pines\n\nNirvana just remembered the brawl that was going to happen, but she knew she had to get there soon. She has enough energy to keep going almost throughout the night, so she starts heading west. \n*West, West, West.* She thought. *I shouldnt be too far*. But, she underestimated the length of the trip. \nNirvana turns and twists into the thicket and tries to head straight west, but veers south and back randomly. \nShe was *Starving* All the food she can find is either hibernating or dead* She saw a small white fox, dead in its tracks from hypothermia. She winced, but didnt stop herself. She resumed her journey, scouting for anything, even a mouse if she could."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nHouse Margir, The Witherlands\n\n\"Little else is known about the origin of this theory, besides the innate fear humanity harbors for the original. Living in an existence utterly dwarfed by the conquests of old, we soothe ourselves by creating replicas of history, ones that we feel we can manage. Fear of the original morphs into idolatry of the replica, and—\"\n\n_Knock, knock._\n\nWendy Margir paused in her reading, looking up from the time-weathered pages of the novel she'd been reciting for her little sister, Caroline. The blind girl, too, lifted her chin slightly, her head facing in the direction of the door. She was sitting up against a fluffed pair of pillows, tucked in a pale blue nightgown underneath her covers. Her bright red hair fell in little ringlets about her face, still damp from her nighttime bath. \n\n\"Come in,\" Wendy said, her voice ringing with a more authoritative tone unfit for reading a girl to sleep. She was sitting in a wooden chair at Caroline's bedside, still clad in her armor from the successful scouting mission earlier that day. \n\nAt the general's beckoning, a pair of men opened the door and stepped into the room, donned in the maroon and gold colors of House Margir. They seemed anxious, almost. But not for themselves.\n\n\"General,\" One said, bowing his head slightly as he addressed Wendy. \"The straggler from Lord Vivayn's rebels has finally come to. He is ready for questioning.\"\n\nAt this, Wendy sighed and closed the book.\n\nCaroline, hearing the dull thud of the book closing, turned her head to face her sister. Her eyes always remained closed, but she felt it was at least courteous to give as much attention as she could to those who were kind enough to do so for her.\n\n\"Will that be all for the night, then?\" Caroline asked. She always looked forward to this tradition. When she was younger, falling asleep had always been rather difficult. Nightmares had tormented her often. And so, Wendy had always volunteered to read Caroline bedtime stories to put the girl's mind at ease before drifting off to sleep. The stories had evolved from silly adventures to philosophical musings, but they still meant the same to her. And with Wendy's commitment to the army, Caroline had learned to savor these moments more and more, since they now came about only so often. \n\n\"I am afraid so, sister. I wish we could continue, but there is always tomorrow,\" Wendy said, smiling and setting the book on the girl's nightstand. The woman's voice, once again, had changed quite quickly, considerably softer than before. She stood and cupped Caroline's cheek in her palm, giving the girl a kiss on the forehead. \"Sleep well. We can read more after tea in the morning.\"\n\nCaroline smiled and nodded, listening to her older sister's deliberate gait across the room, the shuffle of the guards' feet, and the gentle closing of the door. Her nursemaid helped the girl settle into bed, and blew out the bunch of candles that kept the room lit.\n\n————————————\n\nWendy strode down the long corridor of cells, flanked by the pair of guards who had called for her earlier. She had not discarded her armor entirely, but now wore her fur-collared cloak; the holding cells had always been rather cold. \n\nThe damp area had not seen too many prisoners come and go since the war had slowed, but Wendy expected that to change, with time. Indeed, her palms seemed to itch as she stopped before the cell holding the man in question, the one who'd pledged loyalty to Lord Nathaniel Vivayn.\n\n_Mistake,_ Wendy simply thought, her face set in a composed scowl as she looked down at the man. He sat on the bench hitched by chains to the wall of the cell, a chill evident in his bones as he shivered. He seemed a little worse for wear, having been stripped of his armor and left solely to his shirt and hose. \n\nHe turned and looked the woman in the eyes, his breath seeming to catch in his throat as he did so. One of the soldiers unlocked the cell.\n\nAt this, Wendy smirked and lifted her hand to dismiss her escorts.\n\n\"Leave us,\" She ordered.\n\nWith a final salute, the soldiers turned on their heels and marched themselves out of the corridor, perhaps a bit too quickly. \n\nWendy slowly entered, her hands tucked behind her back, as if prowling around a feeble mouse. She stopped in front of the man, tilting her head slightly as she merely observed him for a few moments.\n\nAnd then, without so much as an introduction, the general lifted her leg and delivered a weighty kick to the man's jaw, hearing an audible crunch as he fell over to the ground, the bench swaying as he was so abruptly ejected from it. His hands were tied behind his back, so it was all he could do to simply squirm and groan in pain.\n\nWendy walked closer to where he was, lifting her foot again and gently settling it on the man's cheek, the same one she'd struck earlier. The man grunted, his breath quickening as he braced himself for whatever pain was coming.\n\nA pain the general intentionally delayed.\n\n\"Do you want to know what I absolutely _loathe_ about men like you?\" Wendy said, her voice calm and patronizing all at once. Her smirk deepened, satisfied as she began applying more pressure to his face with her foot. \"You align yourself with some noble cause, as if that association alone somehow makes you noble. You realize your lack of any significant purpose or meaning, and try to create one on your own.\"\n\nWith this, Wendy suddenly applied more pressure to his face, twisting her toe back and forth for good measure, hearing his jaw fracture further as she pushed his head further into the ground. She gave a laugh at his cries, sweeping her cloak back and pressing her hands on her hips, her right hand resting on the sword attached to her belt.\n\n\"It's pathetic. To think you could go against the order of this world, to try and face a power you can not win. To align yourself with a pig, a weakling playing king. And where _is_ your king, hm?\"\n\nWendy chuckled again, reaching down to grab the man by his collar. She lifted him up to her level, staring him in the eye. She raised a single brow, waiting for his response.\n\nBreathing heavily, the prisoner simply stared at her for a few moments, his eyes, exhausted as they were, alive with enough anger and embarrassment to narrow as he spat into her face.\n\nThe general flinched slightly, feeling the wet saliva plaster itself on her cheek. Her smile faded. Her eyes, once composed, seem to focus intensely on him now, her pupils constricting. Even her breathing stopped.\n\nAnd then, in one fluid movement, the woman hurled the man against the wall, before rushing to him and ramming her foot into his ribs, blow after blow becoming more forceful as she continued. She waited until she'd bruised him quite badly before lifting her leg and ramming her heel into his crotch, laughing as he howled in pain. \n\nHer hair had been strewn about rather well by now, her cloak hanging off of one shoulder. And still she laughed, twisting her foot and jamming it again and again into his groin. Her laughs lifted and swayed, echoing throughout the entire chamber of cells. They mixed eerily with his screams and bellows, a chilling cacophony that felt like music to the woman's ears.\n\n\"A miserable fool, you are! I tell you, there is not a soul in Marin who shall defy our Ice Lord and live to tell the tale. If you will not bow, I will shatter your bones until you have no choice!\" Wendy said, continuing to beat and berate him with nothing short of glee. \"Where is your king? Tell me, _where is he?\"_\n\nThe night continued like this, until finally Wendy drew her sword and plunged it into the man's hand, chuckling with an almost feline growl as the man cried and begged for the pain to cease.\nShe threw her head back, drinking in the damp air like a cool vat of water. The general panted, leaning on the hilt of her sword, satisfaction having swept over her completely now. \n\n\"Oh, men... The power you think you hold. You have no _idea_ just how much pleasure it brings me to take it away,\" Wendy muttered, sighing and looking down on the man once more. He was hardly responsive at this point, breathing in ragged breaths and feebly shaking on the ground.\n\nWendy sighed and yanked her sword from his palm, turning it and swiftly sheathing it once more. In the rapid movement, a spattering of the man's blood painted her cheek. \n\n\"Ah, but ... That is neither here nor there,\" She said, standing up straight once more and tugging her cloak back onto her shoulder. She stood back to observe her handiwork, her face composing itself once again. She tilted her head, wondering how long this one would stay alive. \"You began as nothing. That is how you shall end.\"\n\nAnd with that, the woman exited the cell, leaving the door open. She ran a hand through her thick, ginger hair, a mane blending well with the fur around her cloak. There was no need to close the cell door. That man would not be moving for a while. If, at all."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald the Witherlands\nThe Pines of Morn\n\nLumikki shivered and rolled over to lyla who was already gone,she didn't think much of it, her eyes scanned the cave as she saw the Jester, same spot, *Had he... Died?* She got up and rolled her sheep skin, then lingered over to Jestah and poked him in the forehead. \"Before the crack of dawn.\" She said, looking down as his lap she noticed the skin was still there as well as the meat from the rabbit that she had cooked. Lumikki took the skin from him, rolling it up, and left the food for him to eat. She strapped the skins to her back and whistled for Lyla. \n\nA few minutes had passed and Lumikki could then see a figure in the snow, coming towards them. Lyla came barreling to her, with the upmost energy, jumped up and tackled Lumikki to the floor. Lumi pet her for a bit, then struggled to push her off and get up. \"We are wasting time, let's go\" She then commanded the wolf to pave the path, and followed."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\nPines of Morn / Iron Plains\n\nHaving walked for some time now, she was relieved when she could see light. She paused for a second, happy because there would be people that might now what theyre doing. She pushed harder through the snow, smiling out of joy. \"Yes!\" She whispered to herself. \n\nShe was practically jumping at this point, making herself go faster. She tried different ways to run faster to save her energy. She tried Bear crawling, hopping, jumping with one leg then the other simultaneously. Her hopes couldnt be higher. Her hair pressed cold against her neck inside her hood, which eventually came off."
}
] | 247 | 2,990 |
257.5 | 2019-03-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, The Bulwark\n\nVigi watched as a hand emerged from the darkness, as Servius grasped the papers from Stern. They rest on his lap as another figure, dressed in the same robes as Vigi, stepped from around the throne to receive them. The man, just barely no longer a boy, took them from his lap without so much as a word, and hurried off. \n\n\"You...\" His fingers gripped at the edges of his throne. \"It would have been foolish for this Ostiary to bring a demon to my throne room. It would have cost him his head. And yet...\" A long silence hung in the air. For once, the ever talkative Vigi was silent. \"Here you are. What are you, Stern Logarsh of the Boar Clan? You are not of my plane, of any realm this retched continent has to offer. You say you want to join the hunt?\" A deep, wheezing laugh rose from the Grand Crusader's throat, harsh and long before cutting off abruptly. \"You appear to be the hunted. Why have you decided to join us?\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The orc folded his muscular arms on his chest. His eyes burning with determination. He could instinctively tell how wise the man in front of him was, yet he did not like the mocking tone of his last sentences. \"I was found ashore by my people, they called me Dorahan, I do not know how to explain that word...\" He sighed. \"My Clan is dead, I'm the last hunter... And hunt I will.\" The orc took off the medallion he had found among the belongings of the cultists, his only true clue... His only way to avenge his people. \"The men who killed them wore Marahodd like this...\" The hunter was struggling to explain himself, his knowledge on the language of the Civilized People was way thinner that a common peasant's, a flaw that the greenskin hated... Foolish is the hunter who cannot understand his prey...\n\"I want to hunt them with you... I will prove my skills.\" He growled as the last words came out more similar to the snarl of a beat than to actual language."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, The Bulwark\n\nThe Grand Crusader narrowed his eyes. \"We will teach you words. This land was once filled with beastmen. Men killed them all. They rest now within the walls of the Great Bulwark. You lucky join them of your own volition. Not at the end of my axe.\" He took the medallion and held it in his palm, the size of the necklace diminutive within his grasp. Slowly, his fingers would curl around it, and he would move to speak. No works would escape his lips before his body stiffened. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and pained groans echoed through the dimly lit sanctum. His head would fall back slowly, directing his gaze skywards.\n\nThe young boy carrying the scrolls had nearly left the room before spinning around and sprinting to Genn. Quickly, his hands were working to pry the amulet from the Grand Crusader's gauntlet. \"W-what is this?\" The squire spoke, looking to the two for help just before a large, armored hand swung to the side, knocking him to the floor. \n\n\"S-s-silence...\" The Grand Crusader was sitting up now, back straight at attention. His nostrils flared, teeth grit like a wild animal. \"Y-you do not touch me, boy.\" Labored, coughing breaths came from the body on the ground. \n\n\"The amulet is powerful. Forged by dragons, carried by cultists, kept by you, and if you still want to stay here, I will keep it. They are still alive. I saw them.\" His eyes, a pale, milky blue, searched wildly under his snow white eyebrows. \"We will find them, Stern Logarsh. You will hunt again. Leave.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "As the paladin began spasming in trance, Stern stepped back, assuming a quick stance. His people spoke about magic with fear... There was no magic in nature, therefore magic was something no mortal should approach. The orc was about to grab his dagger when the Grand Crusader began speaking. He returned to a more relaxed pose, slightly surprised that the shiny yet simple object he had carried all that time was more ancient than the woods he grew up in. \n\nHe nodded at the paladin before taking the pieces of his gear he took off when he entered and leaving the hall in silence. No words were needed, only actions.\nHe looked back at the man in the throne before growling. Yes that paladin was knowledgeable, but to his people the ones who build their home beneath the ground are the same people who are getting used to rest forever in the cold dirt... \n\nHe needed to see the sky, that cold tomb of stone was making him nervous."
}
] | 228.5 | 1,030 |
240.066667 | 2019-03-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, the Witherlands\n\nThey have traveled day in and day out, for at least two weeks, finally, they crossed the bitter, cold water and made it to Horn Hills. \"There she is.\" Lumikki stated, looking at the land, as the wolf howled on the rickety boat with excitement. They continued through the harsh climate, her eyelashes held snowflakes and Lyla shook the snow off her fur, every few steps. That night, they took refuge in a small inn that didn't cost more than a few coins a night. *Till then* She thought. *We will stay here till the brawl...* She reached her hand over and stroked the fur of the wolf sitting beside her easing her nerves. *Till then...*"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Solomon & Wendy\nHellebore Garrison, The Witherlands\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Wendy, the process has already begun. A few more letters and arrangements need to be made, and then—\"\n\n_\"No._ She's not ready.\"\n\n\"If I'm not mistaken, this decision doesn't require your approval,\" Solomon said. His voice wasn't smug or sneery in the slightest. As he looked down at the paperwork he'd been completing before Wendy barged in, the young lord kept his tone relatively neutral. If anything, all that could be detected from it may have been a slight sigh of exasperation. They'd been having this conversation for quite some time, now.\n\n\"She hasn't indicated at all that she's ready for a commitment like this. The girl is _blind,_ Solomon. She can't just leave this place, and she shouldn't have to,\" Wendy said. She stood before her younger brother, her hand planted on his desk as she asserted her thoughts about her sister's recently announced betrothal to a noble fellow in a place the author hoped would prove relevant at a later time so that she can use it as a plot point later.\n\n\"Caroline is a nice young woman, and she's also quite pretty. Any man should be pleased by that,\" Solomon said, moving a paper from one stack to the next as he began reading another one over.\n\n\"She can hardly do anything on her own. Imagine adding some man into the mix. It won't work. And I won't let you force the impossible,\" Wendy said.\n\n\"You do realize that if _you_ were married to someone, father and I wouldn't have to make decisions like this,\" Solomon said. He took a moment, now, to stop his work and look his sister directly in the eyes.\n\nAt this, Wendy's resolve faltered just enough to make her pause and try to gather a defense.\n\n\"Don't blame this on me. I have troops to manage, a threat to monitor—\"\n\n\"—and I'm not saying that you don't. But you are clearly committed to your responsibilities. And because of that, Caroline needs to carry some weight and commit to responsibilities of her own. You, of all people, should understand that. General,\" Solomon said, ending with her title for good measure.\n\nWendy narrowed her eyes and merely huffed, turning swiftly on her heel and making for the exit of Solomon's study. Her cloak snapped in his face, the gust it created enough to scatter his papers about the desk.\n\n\"Caroline isn't marrying anyone, you can be sure of that,\" Wendy said, before exiting and slamming the door shut behind her.\n\nSolomon sighed and shook his head, organizing his papers once more before leaning back in his chair and gazing out of the window. His view overlooked one of the estate's courtyards. He could see Caroline there now, bundled up with some of her favorite furs, getting some fresh air with the personal guard that had been assigned to her. She was smiling, talking to the young man and walking about the space, with his help, of course. Solomon observed for a few more moments, before turning and returning to his paperwork.\n\n\"I believe I'm quite sure, actually.\""
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, The Bulwark\n\nThey exited the room rather quickly, the limp body of the boy still on the floor. The moment they were out of earshot, Vigi visibly relaxed, color returning to his rosy cheeks. He looked up at Stern and have an audible sigh. \"That could have gone...\" He shook his head, giving a soft smile, \"That could have gone a _lot_ worse, my boy.\" \n\nThe Bulwark as beginning to shut down for the night. What looked like a quickly growing party in the dining halls ceased almost completely the moment they stopped serving food, and for the exception of a wayward couple and the last remaining Ostiaries eating their food alone, it appeared that everyone else had gone to bed, happy to retire after a long days work. \"I will get you set up in one of the newer rooms, for diplomats or guests. Due to your size and...\" A limp hand motioned from head to toe of the Orc, \"Well, your green skin and _boar tusks_ , I think you can understand exactly why I don't feel comfortable with you being in the barracks quite yet.\"\n\nThey returned to the Upper Halls, where cloth curtains had been pinned over the windows. They did little to keep out the cold, but kept out the wind efficiently enough. The newfound abundance of lit braziers kept the area nice and warm. Cut into the wall was a large oak door, just large enough for Stern to enter with only having to slightly lower his head. Vigi unlocked the door and allowed it to slowly swing open, revealing a sparse, but homely, room. A small fireplace was built into the wall, and while there was nothing currently in the pit, there was a stack of firewood at the side and some fire starting materials on the mantle. A couch was placed across from it, and between them was a table, complete with inkwell, quill, and a holy book of the Duel Goddesses. In the corner there was a fairly large bed, a wooden frame holding a thick pile of hay and covered in soft fur hides. It looked like it could support the weight of two people. On the nightstand adjacent was a pitcher filled with water. \n\nVigi stood by the doorframe and nodded, marking his departure. \"Please do make yourself at home, Stern. I will see you again, to this I have no doubt. There will be some men coming to your room later. This happens with all of our new members, so please, do not be afraid. If you have any problems, direct them to me, or any of the other Ostiaries. Goodnight, Stern.\" The door was closed behind him."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the WItherlands\nDead streets of Nornver\n\nThe young man limped quickly through the narrow streets of a town he once knew, panting as he hurried to find something flamable - those bodies in the streets.. They had to be destroyed, cleansed! He was afraid. Long gone memories of one or two soldiers from his father's militia dying from a strange disease flashed before him once again. Their charred remains were never burried near High Helm - they were always thrown into a brothers' grave just outside the fortress' walls. Nobody dared touch them - they were 'unclean', as it were.\n\n\"How did they let this happen?\" \n\nEdmund muttered to himself, finding a rigid enough stick and tearing up a piece of cloth he had stored in his bag just in case to quickly put together a sloppy torch. Now all he had to do was somehow pull the bodies he'd found in a big pile to then set ablaze. This sickness, this.. Disease must not leave the palisade of Nornver. It mustn't travel home...\n\nWith an expression of grim anticipation he headed back to town's square where the corpses of a once thriving city now lay, frozen in place. Their faces were terrifying to Edmund - expressions of fear, agony and disgust were instilled on them and in their glossy eyes there was nothing left as they stared out into the distance, blind and motionless... Death itself was sitting among them, perhaps to marvel at the morbid beauty of its deadly work.\n\nIn addition to fear, the cold around him forced the young knight to take actions as quickly as he possibly could. It wouldn't be a couple of hours before he'd lay down and freeze like the rest of them if he did nothing, so he had to hurry up.\n\n\"Let not the sickness get me.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark.\n\nThe hunter entered the room, looking around. As the door closed the orc began studying how the lock worked. He had never seen a lock mechanism and that metal piece was definitely something worth his attention. \nOrgun trotted around the room before climbing on top of the bed and curling up, yawning rather cutely. \nThe orc couldn't get his head around the mechanical parts of the door, so he just gace up... He started a fire in the fireplace and paced around the room. The forniture was... Different from the raw logs of wood he used to turn into tables and stools... \nStern sat slowly on the couch and realized how soft it was... Compared to the stones and benches he had been sitting on all his life... He was about to relax when the tension on the wooden supports began to make them emit crackling sounds. The orcgot immediately up and sighed. Those things were not designed for creatures like him...\n\nHis attention shifted towards the book on the table. He did not touch it, yet he knew all too well that the knowledge contained inside it was momentarilly out of his reach. \nGrowling in frustration, he paced towards the bed and laid down, completely new to the softness if it... His muscles relaxed and his weary spined was finally let be... Orgun climbed on top of Stern's torso and laid on top of the hunter's abdomen. Stern smiled slightly and pet the wolf. His journey finally over."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands\n\nFollowing the figure far infront of her, Nirvana decided not to interfere and not stay the night in a hotel room persé, but to let herself lay on two chairs that were pushed together in a lobby next door. \nNirvana knew that if she kept her own distance away from the silouette in the distance, she wouldnt have to deal with the beast that accompanied her. She followed them past the water, which kept her hair and what she had left of protective armour frozen, so the sweet relief of finding a place to stay was heaven to her. \nAtleast it was good until she got kicked out."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Alabet Havar\nWarren Klade\nThe Bulwark\n\nAfter some time had passed a set of voices appeared beyond the door to the orcs room, one high and excited while the other seemed less than thrilled about the whole ordeal. \"Oh come on Warren try and lighten up. You don't honestly believe it's as bad as all that right?\" Came the younger voice as the door clicked open, the older man, Warren the younger had called him, merely grunted a response, muttering something along the lines of \"Save it for your journal, Alabet.\" As they both entered the room their body language was night and day in response to the strange sight. Alabet, the scholar of the two was obviously fascinated by the strange turn of events. Warren on the other hand seemed less than enthusiastic about the outlandish sight before him."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The orc's ears had warned him about someone's arrival minutes before the two reached the door. His cautious instinct had made him wait for them standing next to the fire with his arms crossed. He was towering over the two and he definitely did not like to receive uninvited guests. \nAs the two entered, the hunter nodded, greeting them in his definitely not welcoming fashion. \"Who are you two?\" His voice was just as displeased as his expression. He studied the two paladins, immediately catching the feeling of distaste the bigger had towards him. \nHe was wearing his ragged cloth pants and his boots, the rest pf his gear was forming a clumsy pile in a corner of the room. Orgun was sleeping on the bed."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald\nThe Horn Hills\n\nLumikki rolled over on her side and paused, sitting there a moment she watched the wolf pace back and forth. \"Lyla?\" She wondered if something was wrong. The wolf trotted over and nipped her sleeve cuff, pulling her out of bed and to the door. Lumikki stumbled out of the bed and to the door.\"Quid est?\" She said in a irritated tone as she pushed open the door of the inn room. Lyla shot out of the door, into the snow, like a bullet from a pistol. \"VENI!\" The girl called after her, running. \"Wench...\" She cursed as the wolf ran into the woods. Lumikki stopped and watched the wolf from a distance, knowing she can't catch up to a wolf, no matter her skill. She scoffed and rolled her eyes as the wolf relived herself. \"All that for this eh...?\" She turned and began walking back to the inn, looking around at the settlement. *Hmm, there's quite a few people* \"Veni!\" She called and the wolf strided back to her side. Lumikki paused as she walked past the stranger who seemed to be watching her and her companion. She clicked her tounge once and lyla switched to her left side, creating a barrier from the foreigner. They walked together to a nearby pub, soon out of sight from the stranger."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield\nThe Horn Hills\n\nNirvana watched as the doors opened, the yellow light from the inside was still visible in the day time. As soon as the large beast ran out, she jumped with a fear she hasnt faced this whole time. She recouped from the moment of fear and watched as they went out of sight, the figure following the hound out of her field of vision. *Where are they going now?* Letting out a huff of disappointment, she continued to trace their steps, slowly but surely."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Alabet Havar\nWarren Klade\nThe Bulwark\n\nThe two listened and waited for the green guest to speak before introducing themselves per his question. \"Alabet Havar.\" Said the smaller one, sizing the orc up as one might size up a peculiar art piece or a puzzle to be solved. \"Warren Klade.\" Said the other, simply looking the newcomer over as if he were something scraped off of a shoe. Of the two only one was happy to be there which was painfully obvious no matter how little the orc knew of social interactions. After a moment or two the younger fellow spoke up again. \"They sent us down to welcome you and see to it that your room was ah... Suitable?\" \"They also mentioned some strange tales you'd been spinning. Mind sharing what that's all about?\" The older veteran said, hijacking the welcome wagon speech."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nThe hunter gazed into the flames of the fireplace, his green skin slightly tending to a more brownish tone due to the light. \"Tales?\" The orc returned to his silence after the rather short question had been posed. His hazel eyes shifted from the fire to the two men in his room. \nHe did not understand most of the words they were using... Yet he was able to understand the overall meaning of the sentences... For now."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Alabet Havar\nWarren Klade\nThe Bulwark\n\nThe younger fellow threw and elbow into his friends gut, drawing a huff and little more. \"Forgive my dear friend. Seems he was thumped over the head a few too many times while out campaigning.\" Though he did mean well his curiosity got the better of him. \"Ah... Perhaps there was some mention of a strange item? And more than a few of the boys saw you handling a suspicious looking bundle when you first arrived.\" \"They say you're a hunter.\" The older man chimed in. \"Though nobody comes to us with the notion to chase down deer.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The orc nodded and trew a piece of wood into the flames. \"I come from what you call Taemar... Big forests, warm springs... Always meat to hunt... My people got killed for reasons I do not understand and the men who did this wore... Uhm...\" He traced a line with his finger around his neck. \"I found their underground hut and killed all, then found scrolls and maps... You were marked as enemies, so I travelled many moons to join my enemy's enemy.\" \nHis voice had become much darker as the memories of bloodshed and suffering returned to claw his grief-filled heart."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Alabet Havar\nWarren Klade\nThe Bulwark\n\nThey both listened as the brute spoke, nodding off and on and reacting to the change in his tone in a similar fashion. The news of new enemies wasn't exactly too surprising to either of them, though the scholar was obviously more troubled than the veteran. After a moment the older man chimed in \"So assuming there are more of these folks around. What's your plan once we root them out? Dip out to find more of your own kind?\" This question drew a nasty look from his younger friend."
}
] | 165 | 3,601 |
292.333333 | 2019-03-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark\n\nThe orc crossed his arms once again, his eyes locked on Warren with feral intensity. He was aware of his inhuman nature and the effects of it on people, yet he wouldn't have let that paladin disrespect him. \nHe stood silently, waiting for the two to exit his room. \nHe did not know how to end this quarrel with words and that angered him intensely. Asking Vigi to teach him more words was imperative."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Alabet Havar\nWarren Klade\nThe Bulwark\n\nWithout further incident the two exited the room, Alabet trailing behind and ushering Warren along to ensure that the first meeting of the company did not end with any unnecessary bloodshed. \"Get some rest good, ah, sir.\" The young scholar called over his shoulder on the way out, unsure if things had gone well, though certain that they could have ended much worse."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nDead town of Nornver.\n\nThe young knight hurried along the empty streets of Nornver, hauling every piece of wood he could with him - he needed the flames to be great, to grow to the skies and burn away this disease that befell on the city. There wasn't a reason to try and save it now - it was too far gone. He didn't know if weeks'd passed before he stumbled across this saddening sight or just mere days. He didn't know anything about the type of sickness it was - he only knew that fire would cleanse it.\n\nSo he hurried along, to the town's square to burn all of the corpses along with his memories, tied to this small, peaceful town away. Sorrow joined the pain that he's been feeling for the past two days and just added to the misery of the whole situation, making it almost helpless. And then Edmund remembered - there was a small city with a docking bay not too far away from Nornver! He just needed to go.. East. To reach the great seas that lay beyond the frozen shores of Witherlands and try to, through that, get back to High Helm. Perhaps there he'd be able to get proper treatment for his wounds and refill on supplies..\n\nThus he thought, gathering up bits of wood into a big pile before spilling out the rest of what was contained within his flask onto it. 'Now for the spark that'll end it.' He thought, pulling out two shiny bits of minerals and his dagger.\n\nSshhhhk!!..\n\nSshhhk!..\n\nSuddenly, the pile of wood erupted into flames which quickly consumed it and lit up the whol of town's square - Edmund had to work quickly. SO he began to drag the frozen bodies to the fire and throwing them into it sloppily.. Each one of them was followed by a loud hiss of the water getting almost instantly evaporated... An Hour or so passed before Edmund leaned up against one of the buildings to get some momentary rest, satisfied with the result of his hard work - the bodies were all burning away now... The smell of burnt flesh and hair, the sickening sound of meat sizzling as it got quickly engulfed and assimilated by flames filled the street, followed by the roaring and cracking of the giant flame's tongues.\n\nNornver was no more."
},
{
"author": "bialis",
"message": "Joss Fletcher, the Witherlands\nTrade Ship, Southeast Port\n\nThe boy's wound had healed over the journey, more or less — not *Well*, particularly, it would certainly be leaving a scar and it was still rather pink and definite, but he no longer had to worry about it opening up again. And he had avoided infection — altogether, a win. The journey itself... Maybe the problem here wasn't the journey, exactly. Maybe it was the destination.\n\nThe ship pulled into port, and with the anchor dropped, Joss was perched high in the rigging, trying not to shake it with his shivering — helping to take down the sail entirely, to stow it within the ship, to mend and to *Thaw* It. The icy sea breezes in this part of the world had left it with a thin, crunching coating of ice in places, and there were a few places the seams needed work. It was horribly heavy, even as they got it to the deck and were able to roll it — it took a whole row of men carrying it to get the job done, and Joss was too short to be a part of that row.\n\nInstead, Will sent him below decks to help offloading cargo, as the ramp met the dock. A line of men poured forth with crates, barrels and sacks of cargo kept preserved by the cold — the boy could not help but stick out like a sore thumb among them as he unloaded the cargo with them, and as the first mate counted out everything as it left the ship to make sure nothing had 'gone missing' on the voyage — the barrels of alcohol were of particular concern. None of them had leave to go anywhere til every last thing had been accounted for. And they'd cargo from many merchants. There was a lot to account for. But, finally, after some brief tension over the gin, Joss and many of the sailors were given leave.\n\nHe'd never been less excited to explore a new place. It looked *Miserable* Here, from what he could see... Still, it would be less miserable than the bowels of the ship, and less likely to get him beat for snooping around. The lad donned his cloak and hood to protect his poor freezing ears, taking his satchel with him over one arm.\n\nHe had a pair of silver candlesticks to sell, after all — somewhere no one would ever know where they'd come from."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nOutskirts of Nornver.\n\nThe town was ablaze behind him. The hot tongues of fire burst out of every window and every chimney - the fire spread much faster than Edmund'd anticipated earlier. \"Taff!\" He groaned in pain as he was reminded of the wound that haunted his thigh - it felt like a hundred thousand knives being driven precisely into that area one by one, tearing it up with every single one of his hurried, limping steps. But he couldn't stop for now - the wildfire was spreading through the city quickly.\n\nLeaving the walls of Nornver behind, he practically ran forth, through the warg-infested woods to get closer to his next destination - a docking town where sailors and traders were rampant. There, with his slight wealth he planned to hitch a boat back to High Helm to rest up and heal before heading out again - his quest'd started off a nightmare.\n\nThe woods grew darker as he got further away from the burning city and its dying roars and sounds of crumbling buildings - he was safe for now, but the cold of the WItherlands would make sure he'd not survive if he stayed in one place. So he ran forth, limping and panting heavily - into the darkened pines of Morn once more.\n\nBy sheer luck he'd chosen the right direction - he was running eastward, towards the wintry shores of this inhospitable kingdom. Unbeknownst to himself, he was approaching the new chapter of his adventure rather quickly..."
},
{
"author": "bialis",
"message": "Joss Fletcher, The Witherlands\nSoutheast Docks\n\nThe boy realized within ten minutes that this was not the place to sell luxury goods. He might have gathered that, had he been paying any heed to the crates upon crates of foodstuff he'd been unloading — but he wasn't putting together the larger picture from the contents of a shipment.\n\nThis place had different priorities than the highbloods that infested North Feyshore like ticks. Every item this country imported that he'd seen, he realized only now, was *Foodstuff* — foodstuff and drink! As he walked the town he realized very quickly he needed to know a few things — searching for the only friendly face he could think of, the only person he thought would answer his questions. But Will was nowhere to be seen. The man had probably gone inside somewhere — Joss sure as hell wanted to do so, too. \n\nIt was freezing, with a sort of frost which he wasn't sure whether it was snow or sea-mist turned to ice, which clung to his white eyelashes and made his face numb unless he kept his face well within the hood. He kept moving. Looking for a likely place he could slip into. He still had *Some* Money, but he wasn't sure if it would be accepted, now he thought about it... Still, coin should be coin. But he'd managed to get himself a bit lost in this strange, cold city — every building he saw seemed to be warehouses for storage — surely he'd gone the wrong way to get warm by a fire. Turning a few times, hoisting his satchel over the cloak, following where he saw smoke from chimneys. There were few lights to follow, as the sky darkened. Windows seemed to be shuttered almost by default — he wasn't entirely sure if there *Were* Windows on some of these buildings."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, The Witherlands\nPines of Morn, outskirts.\n\nThe man rushed through the remaining thicket of pines as night slowly fell all around him - he had a reason to hurry so much: The temperatures dropped heavily during the dark hours and nobody wanted to remain out and about without a good fire to keep them safe and warm from the creatures and the cold.. Snow crunched and flew around under his feet which left a lengthy and messy trail with some specks of crimson red seen inbetween - his wound'd opened up a tad again.\n\nNoticing it, he slowed his pace down a bit to let his body rest and catch a breath - he was out of it, tired and cold. But hope still gleamed within his cold, brown eyes - the dim lights of Trandon shone in the distance, leading his way towards the safety of a docking town... Finally - a place to rest. For a man with money it wasn't much of a problem in these parts. Howeever, there was still a concern that grew on him - would he be able to reach Trandon before his limbs would start to give out due to the cold? \n\nFear, for a moment, reared its ugly head, filling his mind with grim images of a frozen body in armour whom nobody would be able to identify... But he shook them off, hurrying forth with the same fast pace from before once again - 'the night is young' he grumbled and smirked, letting the hot droplets of his own blood drip out onto the frozen forest floor."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, Horn Hills\n~Millbrough Pub~\n\nLumikki pushed the doors to the pub open. She stomped the snow off her boots and lyla shook it off her fur, as they walked inside. Heads turned and studied the strange duo, some lifted a brow in confusion, others tilted back in their chairs with a little fear, a few scowled at her. She passed by, noticing the looks but disregarding them. She then sat down on a stool as lyla sat behind her on the floor. The beast stared at the others, they all turned their heads back to their business, not wanting to challenge the creature. The size of Lyla, even as she was sitting, was massive. Lumikki tossed a few coins on the table and smiled at the barkeep. \"Mead\" She said, as she rubbed her hands together to generate warmth. \"Oh and some water for my companion here.\" She leaned to the right and pointed to the wolf that sat behind her. The barkeep stepped back and nodded nervously as he turned and fulfilled her order. \n\nLumikki's smile faded as she sat there, a mug in one hand and her other held close to her dagger, just in case. The brawl was on her mind, all she could think about was how to win... Or at least stay alive."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield\nMillbrough Pub\n\nJust in time when the crowds inside the pub felt calm, Nirvana opened the door to finally see the girl shes been following this entire time. Without speaking, she looked at who else was in the pub, studying the people for any threat. She lowered her hood that protected her from the harsh climate. She looked back at the girl and her animal, squinting at a face she felt like she knew. She goes to sit by her.\nShe huffed out an order, knowing the once was figure already intimidated the waiter/waitress. Glancing over at her, she asked a simple question, quietly, but it meant a lot for her own navigation.\n\"Are you heading to the brawl?\" She asked while pushing off frozen snow from her hood and shoulders onto the wooden floor, creaking from her stomps to urge more snow from her boots, faded but working, and her gloves were uneven from past tears. The others in the pub looked at them both in disgust for Nirvanas rudeness and Lumikkis fearful attitude. \nThe canine stayed where it was, watching Nirvana as she yawned and pushed both of her elbows onto the table, holding her head up. The only thing that popped out from her disheveled appearance are her eyes, which matched the accented clothes she had on, disregarding the quality of her wet, cold clothes and soggy bad carrying her arrows that she threw onto the ground."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \n~Millbrough Pub~\n\nLumikki rolled her eyes and turned her head slowly to the stranger. She then made eye contact with them and her eyes lit up and a smile stretched across her face. Everyone in the pub jumped back as she sprang from her seat as It collapsed to the wooden floor with a loud *THUD* And wrapped her arms around the girl. \"Nirvana!\" She paused, stepping back and looking the girl up and down. \"It's been ages, where you been hidin' all this time?\" Her eyes nearly filled with tears out of pure joy. \"I haven't seen you in forever...\" Lyla began to growl at the crown as they watched their reunion. Lumikki looked at them all and scowled, the majority turning their heads away. \"Catch me up.\" She turned to the stool and picked it up from the floor, sitting on it and leaning forward, eager to hear."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield\nMillbrough pub\n\nNirvana jumped a bit out of fear, her hair shaking infront of her fave and her body swaying back and forth to be grabbed by the girl who she cant seem to remember.\n\"L-Im sorry but, you look familiar, but.. I cant remember\" It takes her a moment before it clicked. \"Wait.. Lumikki???\" Nirvana hugged her old friend back and sat to face her with a huge smile on her face, as well as her eyes fogged trying not to cry of joy. \"Ive been *Everywhere*, Lumi. I forgot all about that.\" The sudden reunion felt as if she lost a part of her that she never noticed. Ignoring the crowd, nirvana explained that she got the gear she had from her dad then left and pretty much had the time of her life out in the open harshness of the Witherlands. While talking, she was handed her drink but ignored the waiter/waitress because she was so happy she found basically a family member. She lit up like if a seemed broken lightbulb rejuvenated into an even brighter light, being so happy that she swayed her feet on her stool, using her hands for exaggerated emphasis on how shes been living, and that she loved it way more than her parents constant nagging."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands \n~Millbrough Pub~ \n\nLumikki sat there a while, listening to her stories as well as exchanging some info. \"This is Lyla\" She pointed to the wolf. \"You two haven't been acquainted yet. Found her in a trappers snare as a puppy. Turns out herb healing ain't as useless as it's brought up to be.\" She smiled lightly under the bandana as she spoke. \"She seems to act like she has always known you.\" Lumikki looked down at the wolf that was rubbing against Nirvana's leg and waging her tail. She paused before a draught look sprawled on her face. \"I entered in that brawl... The one for 300 coin and bronze armour...\" She lowered her voice and leaning in. \"I have a bounty on my head... Makes it hard to get business, ya know?\" She took a swig of mead and slamed it down on the table, a bit splashing out onto the wooden bar. \"Hope I don't die!\" She rolled back in her seat a bit laughing nervously and rubbing the back of her neck."
}
] | 291.5 | 3,508 |
149.071429 | 2019-03-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "David and Damien sat inside a round shaped arena filled with frozen mud and some large rocks surrounding the outside area of the arena, the Arena was made of a mixture of stone and steal but mostly appeared to be Wooden.\nDavid and Damien had been sitting in the private viewing point and other important folk would have to sit and watch later on once the event had begun,The House Brass Sigil had been placed over David and Damien's heads and placed across the arena.\n\nDavid Chuckled to himself and turned to Damien, David: \"This shall be a grand event Brother\", David turned to Damien with a grin across his face, David: \"Have the warriors been informed of the rules once again of this battle for survival, also tell my guardsman to clear anybody that croaks in the tournament\" David had said dismissively to Damien, there had been a cold wind in the air as Damien sigh deeply and turned to David.\nDamien: \"I'm not questioning you because I understand why your doing this but\", Damien bit his lip tapped his chin before he had continued \"We are already on thin ice with allowing slavery back into The Horn Hills but this, \"Public death allowed in a tournament\" Damien shook his head sounded worried,\n\n\"Once the wars in the north are done Lord Marshall or Lord Nathaniel will-\" Damien had been cut off by a hard slap to the back of his head by David and David sighed. David: \"Your a fool if you think I fear the higher class The Lords Of The Witherlands, \"Let them come and be beaten before they even have a chance to reach our Islands, They will be beaten on the sea like a grand killer whale by a whale hunters spear, our grand fleet is hole once again they won't risk another war after claiming the Witherlands\".\n\nDavid Chuckled as he looked down from his arena as Damien held the back of his head, David: \"Who ever wins that block of ice isn't my worry, my mind is on The Horn Hills growing stronger and we need stronger warriors and this\" David chuckled to himself \"This is the way to prove it no weapons besides your body and mind\"\n\nDavid turns to Damien \"Let the Crowds in soon and get my guardsmen hurry\", David said firmly Damien nodded to his Brother and set off with the tasks given to him, as David had been left alone with his thoughts.\nOnce Damien had let the crowds in the grand arena and then had informed the guardsmen about David's orders, Damien slowly approached the waiting area for the 7 warriors to arrive as Thorod Lockbeard had been already been there waiting with his arms crossed and then Thorod looked down at Damien, Thorod: \"The smiths better be able to get that armour to fit me\" Damien just had shook his head and waited for the rest of the women and men to arrive ."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nThe Shores of River Eilen\n\n\nWith another encouraging grumble, Edmund would limp closer to the comforting lights of Trandon - a town bustling with trade. Finally, he thought, he'd get to see some lively faces of sane people! It helped him move forth, practically pushing through the pain of his now open wound towards the river's town.\n\nSuddenly, he felt weak, the pain in his thigh spiking immensely... It broke up his pace, forcing him to the ground and into the deep snowdrifts below. He yelled out in frustration and sorrow, knowing that the safety and warmth of an inn was right there - he needed a simple push to get to it. But his leg didn't obey him as it used to, oozing blood and colouring the snow around him into a dark, crimson tone.\n\nHis howl stayed unheard.. He went unnoticed, waist-deep in bloody snow. Trapped before ever reaching the docks. But he couldn't die like this! In a desperate attempt of trying to survive the freezing low temperatures, he began to crawl to his destination, forcing himself through heaps of snow, dead branches and wooden stumps. His vision was going blurry..."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald, Horn Hills\n\nLumikki shuddered as she stood up and exlaimed, \"I should get going. It should be beginning rather soon.\" She said with a draught expression. Lumi stood up as the wolf circled her feet she walked out the door, waving to her old friend a smile clearly seen under her bandana. \n\nA few hours of travel had brought her to the arena. She said not a word and pulled her hood over her head, staying in the shadows as she neared the three men."
},
{
"author": "rysheisty",
"message": "Nirvana Airenfield, Horn Hills\n\nNirvana stands up, warm enough to move around. \"Well, ill come with. I cant be here all alone before my friend gets slaughtered.\" She joked. \nShe went with Lumi for the good hours that they walked, Her telling her more of her own stories. Seeing the men, She quiet down herself."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nJoseph slowly came to after maybe two hours. He saw the woman next to him, and sort of freaked. His hand went to where his axe normally was, but it came loose when he had the attack. It lay across the snow, maybe 10 feet away. Knowing he was helpless, and having his crossbow still in his pack, he rested his head against the snow in defeat.\n\n\"Who are you?\""
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\nShe put a hand over his head, watching over and checking some of his vitals by applying some pressure with her fingers over his neck before she responded to him, so that she was sure he was safe.\n\n\"My name is Mallory, of the house Matronis. I was searching through the area when I suddenly saw you convulsing on the floor. Your in luck that I was trained in the arts, otherwise you might be in an even worse condition now.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nHe flinched when she touched his neck. It was clear he hadn't been having a good time lately, but he eventually relaxed once he realized what she'd done.\n\n\"Thank you ma'am.\" I said in my deep voice. \"I am in your debt.\""
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness \n\n\"Not a problem at all. I didn't choose to go and become a physician just so I could get money out of it, I did it because I wanted to help people in need of help, like you. Though, I would suggest that you get yourself some better lodging, the cold out here isn't the best place to be. I'll also be needing my heated packs back. They were used to warm you, but I wouldn't want to come across another traveler like you, and not have the equipment, right?\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nHe just now seemed to notice the packs and sort of sheepishly handed them back. \n\n\"Yes. Sorry. I'm camping out here until I reach a town.\" It sort of occurred to him that this might not be the best idea anymore. \n\n\"What... What do I do if it happens again?\" The big man's bloodshot eyes showed genuine fright. He had always been in control of his life, and something of this nature terrified him, where he had no say in what his body did."
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\nShe stored the packs back in her storage bag to keep them with her.\n\n\"Well, do you know what might have caused your symptoms? I believe that it may have been put forth by some form of raw food you ate. So, first your going to want to make sure you cook your meat, but if it does happen again and you have no control you should notify yourself based on your symptoms and retreat to somewhere safe. Your biggest problem there was that you were cold, in a cold area. What your going to want is to be in a warm area when it strikes.\"\n\nShe used her hands to try to calm the man down, making calming motions"
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\n\"I don't know, really. Maybe it was the deer I hunted yesterday. But I cooked it... I don't know.\" *He shakes his head.*\n\n\"How far is the nearest town? I'm looking for work, and I need to get to one.\""
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\nMallory took a few steps back, and offered him a hand to help himself up, but she hoped he wouldn't just use her as she wouldn't be strong enough\n\n\"Sure, I'll lead you over to it. You'll probably want to sling your arm over me. I don't know how ready you are to walk around freely yet.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nHe took the proffered hand gratefully, but got to his feet mostly by himself. He kind of just did it so he wasn't rude towards her. He did detest the fact that he possibly couldn't walk. Hell, he'd been a lumberjack for 10 years and he was strong enough for that.\n\n\"Thank you Ms. Matronis... However I think I can walk on my own,\" He said as he staggered to his feet, and disguised the moment of weakness by leaning against a tree. He slowly walked over to his axe buried in the snow and strapped it to his belt. He did everything carefully because he wasn't sure if another attack would come on suddenly."
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\nShe walked over to him and took him by the hand.\n\n\"I'm sure, but you could at least hold a pretty girls hand as you walked into town right?\"\n\nIt was definitely a trick to get him to accept taking some help, even at a minimum level from her. She didn't want to see the man begin to fall down and hurt himself as he began to go try and go back to town."
}
] | 112.5 | 2,087 |
203.076923 | 2019-03-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rekkan,\nThe shores of river Eilen\n\nThe warm and green plains of Ibethiel were left behind to become memories that sewn each other together and remained a distant memento of a better time. Despite the dangers and spiked emotions, there was something to cherish in what was left behind, in who one parted with. But that did not matter in the snow and frozen wastes of the Witherlands. A man garbed in thick red cloth made his way through the thick snow and the howling gales that made white flakes whirl in rapid, twisting motions of the wind.\n\nThe man in question was covered from face to toes, with the excess of his red cloak being dragged on the ground. The edges of his concealing outfit grazed the snow, sometimes fluttering with the rapids of the wind that pushed against him. He battled the opposing gale, gazing at lights and smoke in the distance. Trandon. The last stretch of the journey would be the easiest one. Rekkan had travelled through mountains and hills, forests and swamps, all the way to get there. He didn't know what to expect in his destination, truth be told, but there was the distinct curiosity of seeing it through.\n\nBut not before the sight of something peculiar catching his interest. He glanced at the gleam of armor through the fall of snow and radiation of sunlight. The being decided to inspect him, drawing ever closer until...\n\nThere was a chance that Edmund did not notice the approach, because of pain and focus elsewhere, or lack of focus and conscience. Either way, having realized there was another or not nearby, he probably wasn't ready to feel an enormous pressure on the back of his frame and a sudden heave of his body. Suddenly, the knight felt his back against something large and thick. If he were to look, it was the frame of what looked like a tall human, one meter and ninety three centimeters, wrapped in red cloth.\n\n\"Are you a dead man walking?\""
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nShores of River Eilen.\n\nThe man crawled through freezing heaps of snow, leaving a light trail of blood behind him - his consciousness was failing, his arms beginning to tire from this seemingly useless strive. The last-ditch attempt at getting to Trandon - the place that would save him from certain death was on the verge of failing. Edmund sighed, slowing down to measure up his chances: it was looking bleak. It was about two or three more miles till he would reach the outskirts of this safe haven and his fingers were already refusing to even bend. Perhaps, it was time for him to come to terms with this terrible demise of his.\n\nSuddenly, something pushed him into the snow, making him yell out in pain as his wound opened up completely... The pain was unbearable at this point and, as the figure began to speak, Edmund faded, losing his consciousness. 'Is this how it ends then?' he asked himself before his vision went dark, leaving the cold noble motionless under his sudden assailant."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rekkan,\nShores of river Eilen,\n\nGranted, Edmund was in a state that the crimson warrior wasn't surprised to see. Many were the men and women that fell in the harsh conditions of the northern weather, their minds eroded by the cold and skin shriveled until it turned to icy stone. Such fate wasn't waiting for Edmund, not that day. With his wound open to a tear on his leg and the blood flowing like a fountain, Rekkan decided to take care of the man then and there. He laid the knight on the snow with his back against the cold white and guided his right hand, spiraled on the palm, to the severe injury on the man's leg. His fingers were smeared in blood, just like his tattooed palm.\n\n\"This might wake you up.\"\n\nAt first, an unconscious Edmund would feel warmth. Or would have, if he could sense something in his blacked out state. This warmth turned into tingling heat, making the leaking blood begin to clot and darken to a crust. Then, the tingle became a sting, multiplied in the dozens, then the hundreds. Heat made the skin turn red around the wound, then the wound itself began to grow calloused from the cleansing fire heat. Infection? Bacteria and germ alike were swept away by the rolling wave of blurred atmosphere, until there was naught but a mark of where the blood once flowed out from, cauterized.\n\nFollowing improvised treatment, the large warrior was careful, lifting the noble up and over his right shoulder, carrying him to Trandon."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, The Witherlands\nFrozen Shores of River Eilen.\n\nThe young noble lay there, dormant as his wound was tended to by his unexpected saviour. He felt no pain from the strange treatment Rekkan gave the tear in his leg. His mind, meanwhile, stayed murky - he'd almost lost control over it because of the blood loss and the terrible cold he was surrounded by. However, he could still think. At least somewhat. He questioned what was going on, surprised to not be dead yet. Although, perhaps, it was just agony at this point - he didn't know. Confused and frightened, he tried desperately to open his eyes to no avail for the time being...\n\nMInutes passed and, suddenly, he finally felt something! It was the familiar tingling of his burnt and torn-up wound - his senses were slowly coming back to him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to be met with the sight of a crimson fabric in front of them. Disoriented at first, he began to look around and soon he realized that some tall figure was carrying him towards Trandon. His voice was frail as he spoke:\n\n\"Oi.. Could you put me down?\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Sir Edmund Silverstep, Rekkan,\nOutskirts of Trandon,\n\nThe town of Trandon was a bustling coastal settlement in the northern shores of the Witherlands. Its docks were full of small fishing boats, built sturdy to withstand the solid ice that coated edges of the archipelago stretching to the northern horizon. There were few ships, mainly cargo transports that made sure that every coastal settlement was supplied with resources through the constant trading of product and raw material.\n\nKnight and warrior were in the limits of the crude palisade when Edmund rose from his unconscious state. The man carrying him felt his body squirm awake and it didn't take long for the noble to speak out and request that he was put down on the ground. Rekkan couldn't do that outright. The wound was still fresh, even if cauterized on the surface. The large man didn't want to have the crust split into splintered pieces and reopen the treated injury.\n\n\"When we're in town.\" He said plain with a near guttural tone, as if his throat was stoked by a fire coming from his chest, rising black fog that never spilled from between his lips.\n\nThey joined a small line of caravans, traders from inland that were bound to trade furs and red meat for fish and other sea resources."
},
{
"author": "thedrawnblade",
"message": "Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands\nOutskirts of Trandon.\n\nA bustling town, indeed, Trandon was in motion - people were preparing to meet the ships from the southern isles to finally refill their rations of food and send the vessels back with rich minerals and metals... It was a happy day for its citizens - always, at the end of the month those sails on the horizon caused an uplift in everybody's mood - there's only enough smiles you can give before eating some poor rat's meat gets to you at the end of the day.\n\nAs they approached the town, Edmund grew a bit more restless,wanting to walk on his own two feet - miraculously, he wasn't touched by frostbite and the only reason he felt sick was due to the aforementioned loss of blood and consiousness not ten minutes ago.\n\n\"How noble of you to help me out of the snow.. If not for that sudden streak of luck, I'd already be a frozen statue like the poor people of Nornver...\" He finally commented on the man's helpful deed, muttering something else about the town he had to burn down and thinking of what it would cost him to repay a life's debt. However, for now he was more interested in his rescuer than anything - the man's crimson clothes and strange accent pointed to the fact that he was definitely not from the Witherlands."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Sir Edmund Silverstep, Rekkan,\nTown of Trandon,\n\nThe knight's restlessness was expected by the red warrior that carried him. He could be feeling like a rucksack of potatoes for all Rekkan cared, but he wouldn't put weight on that leg before having some proper rest and a keen eye inspecting the cauterized wound. Who knew what else he could need to recover well enough?\n\n\"No being with a conscience would leave another to die at his feet.\" He replied in a low tone. He didn't quite care about the people of Nornver, whoever they were or whatever was the place Edmund was referring to. Rekkan was more interested in getting through the gates, their turn close at hand to come up to the guards.\n\n\"Greetings, traveller... Err.. Travellers.\" The guard said looking at the large man and the armored knight on his shoulder. Wasn't that a bit of a weight to carry? Huh. \"What's your business in Trandon?\"\n\n\"I was told I could get a transport to the Horned Hills from here.\" Rekkan said.\n\n\"Ah, an enthusiast of the tournament taking place soon? Perhaps a participant?\" The guard smirked.\n\n\"The latter.\"\n\n\"Hoho! I could tell from your size you couldn't just be a bystander, a hahaha!! Well, I won't delay you. What about the fellow on your shoulder?\"\n\n\"A stray I picked up from the ground. Can you point me to the apothecary?\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, The Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nHe felt sort of guilty at first, dragging this person everywhere just because he had gotten sick. He didn't even know if she was going to the town in the first place. If not, he's just being a pain.\n\n\"You're going to the town too?\" He said, hoping for a positive answer. He took her hand hesitantly, but recognized the ploy. He'd go along with it, he supposed."
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\n\"Of course I am.\" Seeing him take the hand she grinned, thinking that he had taken the ploy and accepted it when she offered him her hand. He hoped he didn't feel like anything was wrong, or that he felt bad about needing a woman's help. She'd met more than a few people that just didn't want to accept her help when she offered it. \"So, what's your name, sir??\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\n\"Good, I don't want you to be going to extra trouble... Oh yeah sorry. I'm Joseph Everard.\" He was glad she was heading to a town as well. Hopefully once he was in the town, this sickness would go away. Gods, how long would he be helpless like this?"
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\n\"Well, Joseph Everard. You are very lucky, you know that? But that's not something you probably want to hear right now, is it? You want to hear more about your condition and what's wrong. Well, considering what it is, I'd consider that you should only have a problem for a day, but if it's bad, which it may be considering the severity of your seizures, it may take two to three days before I'd suggest, in my professional opinion, that you would think about heading out to do work again.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nHe was disappointed about the prospect of him not being able to work, but he understood why. I nodded reluctantly. \"Alright. Glad it isn't worse.\"\n\nHow was I going to repay her? I'll think of something... I had almost no money, so I don't know."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Esienhald, Horn Hills\nBattle arena\n\nShe stood beside the men, lowered her hood and faced them. \"This is where the brawl will take place, correct?\" The bandana covered her face but her heterochromic eyes held emotion, fear, anger, and dread, but there was a glint of hope a-midst the darkness. Lyla jogged up beside Lumikki, standing rather hostile. \"Manere.\" She mumbled to the wolf. The beast eased her tension and stood rather relaxed."
}
] | 214 | 2,640 |
210.166667 | 2019-03-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Markus Cane**\n**Winterlands, Horn Hills**\n\nDespite his lordly standings in the Winterlands, Markus cane entered the brawling arena almost complety unnoticed. Gone where his typical fine cloaths and coats the world have worn on most frozen days like today. In the cold, he felt the ice cut on his face, beneath his simple brown cloak. Under the hood, much of his face was hidden. Including his blind eyes. \nAs Markus navigated the crowd, his cat was never far away. It weaved like a needle through the people, dodging feet as people walked around the cat. Despite the fact it was an animal, the cat seemed to move with a clear destination in its mind.\nAs Markus made his way to where the contests were meant to stand, the cat moved to a hight lege, near what must have been some kind of private viewing point. Crouching, it made sure it could get a good view of the fight. It was a sight that confused the people that looked upon it. The ginger feline looked down, relaxed, but alert. \n\n\nIn the meantime, Markus found his way to besides the other contestants. He moved with some caution, for his cat was a way off for a moment. But Markus still managed to get there in the end. As he stood there, he listened to the other competitors present. By the time his cat had a good enough view, he was able to take a quick peek through its eye. He kept to himself, happy to watch events play out until he was required to fight."
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWIlderness\n\n\"Don't worry about paying me Everard. I already have enough money the way that I live, and I didn't become a physician just so I could get paid.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Wilderness**\n\nHe kept walking with Mallory and he nodded reluctantly. \"Yes I know, but there must be something I can do.\" He watched the trees pass as they walked, and only then did it register how cold it was out. His adrenaline had been pumping overtime, and now it was wearing off.\n\n\"Oh, and you can call me Joseph.\""
},
{
"author": "thornbirch",
"message": "Lady Sibyl Barrmount\nThe Witherlands, Horn Hills\n\nSibyl had, a few days ago, slipped away from her manor house, informing only her younger sister of her whereabouts; she had promised, after not-too-much duress, to reign as acting Lady of the Iron Plaines until Sibyl returned.\n\nSo Sibyl left on horseback, donning her black cloak and throwing the hood over her visage, first to spend one whole night in the forests beside her home and then, finally, to make her way to the Horn Hills.\n\nThe journey there was dark and cold, the air growing thicker and thicker with mist as she neared the islands of the Crakefall. With every inhale she felt her belly frost over hard and big with the chill of the wind. With every exhale she felt it deflate again, cold dispersing evenly throughout her body.\n\nEventually, having camped out numerous times in nature, Sibyl found civilization and then, finally, she saw the arena. Its exterior looked as cold as the air outside it; a mixture of metal and stone and wood, it seemed, to her, to be as grey and stolid as its environment.\n\nSibyl ran her hands over the rim of her cloak and patted down her hood before opening the great doors to the arena and walking inside it. She immediately noticed the heat-energy being emitted from the vast crowds bilging around the tournament hall. Her first thought was to take down her cloak, envelop herself in the welcome embrace of the cold again, but as she looked around she realized the chance of being recognized was too large.\n\nShe wanted to watch, not to be watched.\n\nShe wanted to see the fighting, the triumph, the defeat as close as possible, witness the raw, bloody details of life and death.\n\nHowever, to do so as a Lady would be making a political statement, an acquiescence to the Brasses, an acceptance of slavery or even of this vile combat - which she, of course, could not accept. Not as a Lady.\n\nBut as Sibyl, she relished it.\n\nWithout making too much of a commotion, Sibyl weaved through the crowd, elbowing some and apologizing to others, before she was close enough to the fighting area that she stopped moving, looked up, and waited."
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nWilderness\n\n\"Well Joseph, if I can think of something I'll tell you, but for now, you're the one who needs to rest up.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Col Jude\nBrass Family Arena, Horn Hills, The Witherlands\n\nThe journey to Horn Hills had been arduous, miserable, and cold. The Witherlands was a different kind of cold compared to Northwind. Col spent most of his time in frigid temperatures, where the very air he breathed stung his lungs, and it still didn't compare to a cold night in the Northernmost Kingdom in Marin. \n\nThe journey took longer than expected because he had to stop more frequently then expected, and the prize of the brawl became more and more appealing. He eventually bartered a deal, his horse for a lift on a boat to Horn Hills. He stowed away in the shipping compartment, and much to his surprise even the rats seemed to abandon hopes of survival in the Witherlands. He wasn't woken up by one the entire journey.\n\nWhen he finally arrived at the arena it was beginning to fill up. Fighters coming from various Kingdoms it seemed all dressed in their thickest fur. To say he was surprised by the fighters selected was an understatement. The first person he saw was a woman no bigger than his finger... Then a goddamn cat. He laughed shortly, deciding to just enter the arena with the other contestants and wait for instruction. He knew how a fight worked, although, this one seemed destined to be unlike any other he'd seen before."
}
] | 182.5 | 1,261 |
162.666667 | 2019-03-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "Damien Brass had watched some of the various Warriors arrive to the meeting area, Damien had been surprised by the types of fighters that had already shown up non seemed to be alike, Damien chuckled lightly as he seen that some of them hadn't been use to the cold grasp of the Witherlands.\n\nDamien turned to Lumikki Esienhald as she'd asked her question then he nodded to her with a smile his tired face tired to express joy, \nDamien : \"Yes Dear Warrior\" Damien had in that moment looked around to the other fighters then he'd then cleared his throat Damien: \"Warriors I mean this is the meeting point we shall head inside once the others arrive\" Stands up straight for a moment as he'd looked at them all Damien: \"I am Damien Brass also Master of Coin of House Brass\" Damien smiled lightly at them all.\n\nThorod Lockbeard looked the cat closely narrowed his eyes at it,\nThorod had turned slowly to Markus.\nThorod had looked down at the hooded man then started to speak in his powerful voice as he tired to made eye contact with Markus,\nThorod: \"You don't look like you belong here sir the audience seats are back there\" Thorod had said this in disrespectful way as he'd then pointed to the front entrance to the arena, Damien sighs slightly and had looked out for other fighters to arrive."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, the Witherlands**\n**Horn Hills**\n\nJoseph saw the activity around the town, and blinked in surprise. It wasn't in a very welcoming region but it clearly had drawn some tourists. How peculiar...\n\nA guard looked to him and Mallory. \"Welcome to Horn Hills,\" The guard said in a gruff voice.\n\n\"Thank you sir,\" Joseph said back. He turned to Mallory as they entered the town proper. \"Have you ever been here?\""
},
{
"author": "gloriouswillowtree",
"message": "Mallory Matronis, The Witherlands\nHorn Hills\n\n\"Never once before in my life, in fact I haven't really been to most places.\"\n\nShe let go of his hand, not really needing to guide him along much longer as she had finally gotten him to a safe place. She looked around, she wondered slightly about all the people that were wearing clothes different from the other normal people, but to her it seemed like it must have just been some weird cultural tradition, and didn't comment on it."
}
] | 107 | 488 |
190.75 | 2019-04-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, road to Gorangrad\n\nIt was a clear morning, very few clouds in the sky of the Witherlands, an atmosphere which definitely made the cold much more bearable.\nThe thuds of hooves in the soft snow kept silence away, something very much appreciated by the hulking hooded figure riding the cart. The strong horse was calmly following the road, leaving little to do to the man in white. His eyes moved regularly from the road to the book he was holding in a big, green hand. Words of knowledge written on the old paper, knowledge as vital as the strength to put it to work. Stern sighed and closed his copy of De Metamorfosis Et Monstrum, the book Vigi granted him to study during his first mission as a knight of the Order. Knight... A rank he reached after many seasons... And yet it felt fairly similar to the role of Squire... The hunter put the book away and straightened his back. He could see the smoke of the chimneys at the village as the cart got closer to its destination. \nTime to meet the village's Elder..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, road to Gorangrad\n\nThe morning brought with it further walking, a shifter in some no-name town murdering people. Perfect job for a mercenary, a whole village could pay a pretty penny. Peasants on the walk moved away from her, staring at the massive woman in her black leather bodysuit with iron scale reinforcement. Her helmet was styled like the skull of a demon, sharp brass teeth and an iron skull motif. She cut an imposing figure, especially with the blood red hooded cloak she wore, which was fastened around her shoulders by a clasp in the standard shape of an officer's insignia.\n\nWhen she reached the town, the isignia had peasants pointing her toward the village elder rather quickly. She wondered how many foolish 'adventurers' would be here... Utter morons with stars in their eyes and no brains in their skulls. She'd have to lowball her usual rate, irritating but then she didn't really need the money, it was just the principle of the thing."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, village of Gorangrad\n\nStern was standing with his arms crossed in the middle of the town hall, his white hood and robes were in complete contrast with the dark candle-lit room. In front of him a visibly scared man was reading a letter. \nStern eyed the people who were staring at him from under the hood and sighed. He was starting to get used to it... Only starting.\nThe village Elder handed him the letter back, shakingly. \n\"Knight... Logarsh... It... It's a pleasure to have you here...\"\n\nThe man was seriously struggling to concieve the idea that a monster the size of a man atop of a horse was a respected member of the White Roses, but he was rather happy to know that he was now working for him.\nStern took the letter and nodded in response. \"I shall make my preparations. We will meet once my work will be over.\"\nHis growly voice sent shivers down the spines of all the people in the town hall, which immediately relaxed once the greenskin exited the room."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, village of gorangrad\n\nShe'd been on her way to the town hall when she saw him, the massive orc wearing the robes of the white roses. \"Great... These idiots,\" She grumbled as she made her approach. Religious types irked her, with all that happened in this world how could they believe in some cosmic force of good? It was naive, and naive people shouldn't be hunting monsters. She approached the white robed man and pulled back her cowl to reveal the skeletal helmet she wore, her dark brown eyes glowering from inside it. \"Oi, white rose, hand over the contract and go back to your temple. Hunting a shifter ain't the job for a priest,\" She growled, holding out her hand. The gauntlets she wore were clawed, giving her a demonic look, in her other hand she gripped a sheathed greatsword about six feet long and a half foot wide. People were looking fearfully at the both of them. \"Or you can pay me to keep you alive while you try to pray the monster into submission.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, village of gorangrad.\n\nThe hunter glared at the rather shorter woman, stepping closer to her. \"Do not tell a hunter what to do... Especially one Like me. People like you keep their honor under the sole of your boots. Get out of my sight at once.\"\nThe greenskin snarled, his lips revealing more of his pointy teeth. He did not carry weapons with him before reporting to autorities, as those were the ways of the Order, yet his clenched fists seemed fairly dangerous. \nHis robes weren't even able to hide His statuary and gargantuan body, muscles ready to snap into action like a predator before sinking its teeth into its prey."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "The woman scoffed and lowered her hand, \"Honor is for fools and the dying. I've been hunting monsters and men for thirteen years, so I'll be wherever the beast is.\" She looked over the massive creature, took a deep breath, and straightened her posture. She placed her sword tip down on the ground and rested her hands on the pommel, she could hear her old commander danding she remember her social training. \"My apologies, I was rude,\" She said calmly though it sounded mechanical, \"What I meant to say was I'd like to help you kill the shifter. Whatever you can pay is fine; food, valuables, I'll even accept just taking valuable materials off our Quarry. I know some collectors that'd like to have the eyes of a shape shifter.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Village of Gorangrad\n\nStern shook his head and began walking away \"Greed is meaningless, fool is the warrior who follows gold without purpose.\". Thirteen years... How ironic.\nThe greenskin reached his cart, starting to unpack his things. He began putting on his gauntlets, knee and shin pieces of armor. His life in the wild had taught him about limitating weight on his body to improve agility and having a basic armor was much better than having to climb with a plate one. He attached his bag of items to his belt and grabbed his spear, starting to walk out of the village to find possible witnesses as explained by the Elder. \nThere was no time to waste in talking with mercenaries."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "The mercenary laughed a little and laid her sword across her shoulders as she followed after him. \"I don't do things out of greed, if I did wouldn't accept alternative payment.\" She said flatly, after a little walking she spoke up again. \"You got silver on ya? Best way to find a shifter is to make anyone you meet hold something silver, since it burns them. They can't shift if silver is touching them either, got any silver chain holy man?\"\n\nDespite her confidence she was at least careful, and was walking well out of the orc's reach. She had no interest in being too close to react if the large male tried anything."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, village of Gorangrad\n\nThe greenskin sighed, walking past the mercenary. His whole gear had been specifically designed to counter shifters and he couldn't help but find the presence of that warrior extremely irritating. \nHis next stop would have been an abandoned shack which was located not so far from the village. A brilliant hiding spot... Yet his time spent studying shifters had already made him understand that his foe was not a simple minded beast. The hunter followed a path indicated by the intel gathered at the town hall. \nThe path was old, cut in some parts by fallen trees or unclear due to lack of maintenance, yet Stern found no issue in following it. In his past he was the one creating his own paths to hunt or gather vital resources for his Clan... The vegetation seemed to become more dense as he kept marching. His eyes once again scanning the area meticolously. \nHe loved the familiar smell of wood... It was definitely better than the cold stone of the Bulwark. \nThe only problem was the annoying presence off the sellsword following him."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, village of Gorangrad.\n\nShe hadn't spoken since they'd enter the forest, and now the sheath of her greatsword was slung over her shoulder to leave her hands free. One gripped the blade, holding it in a resting position while the other held the handle, allowing her to drop into a combat stance or repel attacks if necessary. She'd pulled her hood back over her helmet, hiding the deaths head helmet from view with shadows. She was focused on her surroundings, letting her eyes and body run on autopilot behind the orc while her she focused on the sounds and smells around her.\n\nThe game trail they appeared to be following was in shoddy shape, it reminded her of the depleted tunnels in the mines... Left to rot and cave-in when they'd outlived their usefulness. But here everything was green, not the cold grey of stone, it was better... Freedom was better."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, woods around Gorangrad\n\nAbout fifteen minutes after entering the path, Stern stopped walking. He kneeled, moving some dead leaves away before nodding to himself. His gaze travelled left, losing itself in the vegetation. He sighed and stood back up, walking away from the path, careful not to step directly on the tracks. His instinct was telling him something, yet he couldn't understand what yet... He reached one of the biggest trees he could find and left his spear next to its base, beginning to climb it. His hands and feet adapting to the crevices of the bark and the branches, moving quickly. Back at the Bulwark Stern had bested any of his Brothers and Sisters in the harsh phisical training, a fact that Stern did not hold with pride, just with mere acknowledgement.\n\nOnce atop of the tree, the greenskin contemplated the area. Many scenarios were forming in his mind... Yet he was starting to understand why many had died while hunting the shifter.\nThe whole area around the village had plenty of intricate paths and possible hiding spots...\nOne thing was sure: if Stern would have remained in that area, he would have become the prey."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, woods of Gorangrad\n\nThe mercenary had little interest in following the white rose off the trail. She knelt down to examine the tracks herself and frowned, \"It's lived here a while.\" She mumbled to herself, her gaze trailed the underbrush for a moment, stopping on the trail the orc had blazed toward his tree. \"Hunters stick to the trails... Hunters die... Maybe the holy man is right to abandon them,\" She stepped over the tracks and made her way to the tree the white rose had climbed. She wasn't about to climb up after him, instead she listened carefully for any unnatural sounds coming from around them."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, woods of Gorangrad\n\nStern could smell the mercenary being close to the tree and groaned, jumping back down, the impact made the ground shake and some leaves fell off. The greenskin grabbed his silver spear and returned to his march, starting think of a plan to make the shifter come out of its hiding spot... \nHe searched his bag for the book he had brought with him and looked at the young woman behind him. He shook his head and returned to look at the forest around him.\nHis ears twitched slightly at a sound he recognized as a twig snapping. He immediately put the book away and began smelling the air, growling to himself. \nA few seconds later he emitted a snarl, making a poor hare flee in terror from one of the nearby bushes. \n\"Your sword won't be of use here, mercenary.\" He kneeled. \"Might as well go back from where you came.\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "\"It can behead a shifter. It'll work, this ain't my first hunt.\" She said calmly, her posture relaxed, though the way her hand tensed and relaxed betrayed her readiness. She was putting on airs... Likely trying to make the shifter think she was off guard if it was around. \"We need bait, a way to draw it out. What's it been hunting? Kids, the elderly, women? We should go back to the village and get a volunteer.\" It was practical, even if it was cold hearted as hell. \"If they die I can compensate their family... Though I'd suggest getting someone few are likely to miss, villagers won't be as angry and the shifter might be more willing to attack.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern nodded as he listened to the mercenary, all while he began moving snow away from the spot next to him, his hands moved quickly, revealing something that only a nose like his would have found.\nIn the snow was laying the half eaten corpse of a man. The body was in a well preserved state due to the snow, which made very clear that a good chunk of flesh and organs were missing, the neck had been bitten and lacerated, the leather armor torn and the guts just as scattered in a complete mess, yet there was a certain method in the way the wounds were located, as to incapacitate the man.\n\"This shifter doesn't hunt the villagers...\" The greenskin sighed before standing back up \"This shifter hunts hunters...\"\nHe let out a soft growl. \"And it knows how... A big sword like yours won't help, neither will your mind set. This is not a simple task and your life is not something you can protect easily here. Go away.\" Stern closed the eyes of the man and put some snow back on his body. \"Goz maradd nor galash...\" He muttered before standing up and walking past her once again. His warning sounded like a big rock falling into a lake, such were the depth and seriousness behind it... Stern knew how dangerous his situation was, enough to bring him to end his silence to warn someone he had never met, not Because he cared, but because he was more than aware of the fact that the mercenary was definitely not going to survive with the little knowledge she had.\nStern looked at her and pointed at the small mound of snow where the man was buried. \"Make your choice.\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, forests of Gorangrad\n\nShe glanced down at the body and scoffed softly, \"You act like my life is valuable. It's worth about 2,000 gold, if you had to know.\" It was a grim statement, but delivered as a joke, she rolled her shoulders. The movement exposed a bit of her neck, between the collar of her bodysuit and her helmet, for just the barest of moments Stern would've been able to see the slave brand on her neck indicating she was trained by the southern isles slavers. \n\n\"I have made my choice, holy man, I'm hunting a shifter. If it kills me then at least I made a choice.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\n\"Death is not a choice.\" Stern pulled his hood back, revealing his face. It was a face he had been covering most of his life, even in the year he passed among the paladins of the Order. Each line of it seemed to be carved in green stone, for it was hard and sharp, the portrait of a life spent in constant conflict. His deep hazel eyes spoke of nights spent awake under the clear skies of the Taemarian wilderness, one of which almost blinded by a cut, a scar he carried for almost a decade. His beard as wild as the true nature of the paladin, a creature who sought order in a life without solace. Stern was looking at her with staggering intensity, looking into the young soul who dared call death a choice. \nThe hunter's lips parted slightly as words too hard to tell remained tied to their owner. He let out a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. What he had in front of him was a copy of him... A mirror of his young soul before the dark and sharp needles of loss stabbed his proud heart. Her life would have been saved or lost because of his next decision.\n\n\"Follow me.\"\n\nStern began walking."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad\n\n\"It is the only choice some have,\" She said with a quiet voice. He was handsome, though she'd never seen anything like him. The intensity he stared into her made her frown, though it was hidden behind thr mask of her helmet. She gripped the sword in her hands harder and followed after him. \n\nHis scarred, green, face wasn't what she'd expected. But it didn't bother her at all, plenty of strange things in the world. \"Where are we going? We should be finding this shifter.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern shook his head. \"We are preys in its territory now. Once the shifter will find out about us, it will come for us.\" The greenskin's voice was deep and serious, yet calm. He had experienced similar situations and the idea of being the hunted had become something he made peace with. His new plan was to find a place where an eventual attack would have been easier to provoke and yet leave them the possibility to fight back. They had plenty of daylight left, but that did not matter to either him or the shifter. Both able to see in the dark, both beasts the world had to get rid of.\nStern oriented himself thanks to some maps granted to him by the Elder. Apparently there were several caves on the southern end of the forest, caves which formed into a complex with many entrances and exits. That was his destination. \nHis hand returned to the hood, covering his head once again."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad \n\n\"I don't like this,\" She grumbled irritably, though she followed steadily after him despite her words. She wanted to just find this thing and lop off limbs until it stopped moving around. Then maybe light it on fire for good measure, she didn't understand the point of all this. \n\nBut there had to be one, right? A reason this giant creature was taking her deeper into the forest? He was a holy man... He couldn't be planning something evil... And his clothes didn't look cobbled together or too small for him so he probably hadn't just killed someone and taken the clothes off the corpse. She didn't trust him, regardless, and her focus shifted from the shifter to the Orc walking ahead of her."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter advanced steadily through the vegetation, his steps creating light thuds in the snow, yet leaving footprints the size of two big feet together. There was something peaceful in his movements, for instance the way he moved branches out of his way, manipulating gently. \nDespite his size, the greenskin seemed part of the environment, understanding how to move carefully without creating too many changes in the vegetation around him. It was something he had learned among his people during his childhood.\n\n*We are part of the Maradian Forest, Stern. You must be part of it and it shall be your ally*\n\nThe words of his mother still echoing strong in his heart. The hunter stopped moving as something other than his memories caught his attention: A scent... Something similar to wolf hair. \"What do you know about shifters?\"\n\nStern gripped tightly on his spear, crouching slowly."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad \n\nShe sensed the change and gripped her sword, \"I know a few: They can transform into three different animals, they're weak to silver, you can burn them to kill them or decapitate them.\" She turned her head, looking out at the wilderness as she ducked and dodged the plants he moved. She came to a stop behind him, muscles coiled and ready to spring away. \n\n\"Where are you taking me, and why have you stopped?\" Her voice was filled with a calm distrust, like she'd expected the worse out of him and was starting to think she'd been right."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern nodded, his deep and growly voice was way lower than usual. \"There are different types of shifters... By the marks on the man I can say that our shifter can turn into a wolf.\" Stern could hear various sounds... Many paws on the snow. \"There is a pack of wolves nearby. They won't attack us and they are useful. Shifters are not liked by animals.\"\nStern smelled the air and growled softly. \"We must move quickly, they are coming this way and I don't want to kill today.\"\nHe stood up and began walking at a quicker pace. He did not like the idea of facing an agile shifter, but from what he saw on the man's corpse, the shifter was definitely faster than many others... Which meant fast metamorphosys... The more he began to understand about his prey, the more he realized how difficult the fight would have become. \n\"I'm taking you to a place where the shifter will attack us.\" \nStern said brashly. He did not want to waste time explaining his plan to her, not at the moment."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad\n\nTanyth picked up the pace and began to follow him quickly, she absorbed his information and sped up to run beside him. \"Good, I'm glad to hear it,\" She said in response to his revelation. The blood-lust in her voice was clear... She craved the kill, the thrill of battle... It made her feel alive.\n\nMaybe she was insane... Maybe the rage had truly consumed her and made her a monster, she didn't care though. What good was peace and serenity when those pirates were still alive."
}
] | 191 | 4,578 |
155.333333 | 2019-04-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forests of Gorangrad\n\nStern emitted a low growl, he remained silent as they reached the area where a rather big rock formation had created an opening in the forest. Many caves were open like wounds into the megalith. Stern looked around, nodding to himself. His steps became slower and cautious as he got closer to the entrance of one of the caverns. His eyes could see perfectly in the darkness of the cave and the hunter immediately began placing some of his belongings on the ground. \"I will get some wood, you wait here.\" His tone was definitely not giving his interloper a chance to reply. \nStern uncovered his head and ran his hand through his thick black hair. \nHe immediately exited the cave to gather tinder."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forests of gorangrad\n\nThe creature was starting to annoy her, she didn't earn her freedom to get ordered about by some giant. Even still, she didn't see the point in arguing. She didn't know where she was, a shifter was prowling, and he clearly intended to set up camp. The mercenary sat back and sighed irritably, pulling back her hood and removing her helmet. \n\nShe had short, thick, platinum blonde hair and olive skin. She was quite beautiful in her black leather and scale armor, she set her great sword between her legs with the point on the ground and the handle on her neck. She produced a whetstone and began to sharpen the massive blade, seemingly content to sit and wait while the orc set to work."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern relaxed, alone once again in a place he could relax in. He felt at home in the wilderness, able to keep everything under control. He decided to focus solely on gathering branches, but keeping his senses sharp. \nAfter a good hour spent alone, the hunter returned to the cave, carrying a log the size of the young mercenary on his left shoulder and an amount of branches that would have kept a fire going for a couple of days.\nThe greenskin dropped the fuel on the ground and began creating a campfire, digging a small hole in the ground, adding a circle of rocks and proceeding to split the log by sheer force. \nA few minutes later a fire was timidly starting to bring light into the cave. Stern stood up and, after making sure that the flames were stable, started preparing his gear for the hunt. \nHe worked silently, using cords, rocks and wood skillfully to create what appeared to be bolas.\nThat silent work had something peaceful in it... The calm and certainty of routine..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad \n\nShe looked up when he came in, then went back to sharpening her blade. Silent work was far nicer than arguing with the brute, she brushed hee finger against the edge of her sword as he prepared the firepit. She then set the whetstone aside and began to clean and polish it. \"I'm not a fool, holy man, I've hunted shifters with my company before. Along with human beings as well.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern growled softly, he kept working on his equipment as he replied. \"Among my tribe... Our elders used to tell us something very important: everyone is always a fool.\" The greenskin blew some dust off the wood he was polishing and sighed. \"Hunt like it's your first hunt...\"\nStern scratched his beard with the tip of his dagger before he began carving the wood.\nHis eyes were focusing on the piece of soft wood, trying to think of a subject for his sculpture.\nCarving wood relaxed him, allowing him to let his mind wander away from the depths of his memories..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad\n\nShe was quiet for a moment, \"I don't care about the shifter... Not really. We cut their heads off, burn them, wrap them in silver chains so they can't run. My first hunt we caught one in a net of silver chain and just burned him alive.\" She sighed and looked out into the forest, \"But I don't really want to hunt this thing, there's more important thingsc to hunt... Things far more evil than some shifter.\"\n\nShe had a small book in a pouch on her belt, it had names and descriptions. Every pirate on the crew the day she'd been taken, the shifter was just the first job she'd come across."
}
] | 156 | 932 |
375.666667 | 2019-04-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thornbirch",
"message": "Lady Sibyl Barrmount\nThe Witherlands, Barrmount Manor\nA week prior to the tournament\n\nSibyl sat in her study, twiddling a quill in her left hand. She had, just this morning, received an updated report from one of the council members sent to check on the prosperity of the region. According to him, the townsfolk were rebuilding their villages, crafting new homes with lumber chopped from the vast pine forests enveloping much of her domain. Food was, of course, scarce, but fewer men were starving. There were even talks of setting up more farms near the outskirts of the territory, slaughterhouses for swine or elk or fields of whatever sort of root vegetables the peasants could manage to grow.\n\nShe knew, though, that the worst of this winter was yet to come. The cold never ceased.\n\nAfter taking a slow, calming breath, Sibyl composed a reply to her council member, thanking him for his diligence and signing off with her name and a blackened Barrmount seal.\n\nOnce she finished her letter, Sibyl sat and waited, just for a second, for her butler, Yulius, to call her to her midday meal before remembering his absence.\n\nYulius had, with her permission, taken a rest day and ridden a horse to a nearby town to visit his family. The servants were permitted a certain number of days to themselves a year, and they had free time in between their daily activities, but Sibyl suddenly regretted granting her most valued employee leave when she heard the entrance doors thud with three succinct knocks.\n\nShe was not expecting visitors.\n\nSibyl stood, patted down her carefully coiffed hair, swiped at a stray fleck of dust on her immaculate green dress, and walked stolidly to the great wooden doors of her manor. With much reserve, she unhinged the door lock and pulled on the glimmering brass handle.\n\nThere, standing in front of her, was a woman. \n\nSibyl took a moment to assess her. She looked frightful: clothes in tatters with shoes so worn they were little better than bare feet, hardly anything to shield her from the elements, and, most glaringly, she seemed so skinny a sharp wind could fell her. Her light brown skin was like leather stretched tight on jutting bones.\n\nShe was obviously not from the Iron Plaines. No resident of hers, peasant or not, had ever come to her in such a condition.\n\nAfter staring at her for a while, gaze withering, Sibyl opened the door a little wider. To have a woman die on her doorstep would be very unwise of her.\n\n\"Come inside,\" She said finally, stepping back and ushering the woman in with a long sweep of her arm."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter remained silent as his knife shaped the wood with the same ease of clay, never once touching the thumb of the greenskin. Time passed until a wooden object landed on the sellsword's lap. \nStern scratched the side of his neck with the dagger before putting it back into its sheath. \nHe glanced at the young woman and pointed at the sculpture he had tossed at her. It was a beautifully carved owl, the detail of the feathers were extremely precise, in huge contrast with the dagger the hunter had used, which was big and rather difficult to handle.\n\"May it bring you good luck.\"\nStern stated briefly, now searching his bag for some rations as it was definitely later than noon.\nHe took some sips off a waterskin and let out a sigh. He would have loved to hunt in the forest for some fresh meat, but with the shifter around, dried meat and hard bread would have done just fine."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of gorangrad\n\nShe'd been lost in thought, staring into the forest, when the sculpture landed in her lap. Steel clad fingers curled around the wood and the sellsword examined it, it was the second gift she'd ever been given. Something shifted, anger gave way to sorrow, \"I wasn't supposed to be this... My mothers had such dreams for me,\" She murmured as she clutched the owl, \"They imagined I would be sitting in the courts of kings and queens... That every man and woman would desire me or envious of what I had ad yet be unable to touch me. 'Tanyth, the Gilded Queen,' they'd said.\" She tucked the owl into a pouch on her belt, shaking her head, \"All for naught. I wound up an orphan, innocence destroyed by pirates and sold into slavery when they finally got bored. Now look at me,\" She laughed ruefully, \"My body is hard as stone, I kill without remorse and now I am out in the forest, camping with some creature most would call a monster, but is kinder than most humans I've ever known.\" She shook her head and laughed again, laying her head back, \"You're the second person to ever give me something, without expecting anything in return. The first was my mom, she gave me this beautiful dagger... Family heirloom, made by elves millenia ago and still just as sharp and polished as the day it was forged.\" Anger flashed across her face, and her eyes darkened. \"Gods have mercy on the pirate captain that took that dagger from me when I find him... For he will find none in me.\""
}
] | 349 | 1,127 |
211.9 | 2019-04-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter listened carefully, sighing deeply as she ended her last sentence. \nThose words of anger and pain felt more than familiar, he could see a clear picture of her past which he felt closer to his young heart.\nThe only difference was the way that mercenary chose to deal with the pain.\nStern had decided to live with grief and found another life after the last one had been shattered by fate. His will had resisted the heat of rage and had become even stronger... He couldn't blame her for feeling rage and yet he saw something dark in it.\n\"You will find no peace in vengeance... I know about it.\"\nHis eyes locked onto the flames of the campfire. Looking at them was mesmerizing... And yet painful.\nStern removed his hood once again and relaxed his shoulders. \"Death is never good... Not even when people deserve it.\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of gorangrad \n\n\"It is not peace I seek, and good and evil are matters of opinion. You think death isn't good... And I don't think it's good enough.\" She said coldly, turning her gaze from the campfire, she felt a familiar feeling... That tightness in her chest that came with the hatred and rage, like a snake twisting around her heart. \"I think it should take a while, that they should die slowly... A minute for every day. Six hours... To be exact, I want them to suffer for six hours before I let them finally taste the mercy of death.\"\n\nShe shook her head and laughed, \"All you religious types... You all tell me, 'turn the other cheek... The past is past. Put it behind you' as if what they did to me is forgivable. As if my suffering was part of some grand design... Curse your gods and spirits, curse them for telling me that I should forgive what was done to me. If it is evil to kill them, then I am evil and will find peace in the fires or the nine hells.\" She grumbled coldly and angrily. She'd been angry and vengeful for far too long, those dark feelings had rooted themselves deep in her soul."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nA dagger flew millimeters past her before biting into a tree. \n\"You know very little about me, don't speak like you know me, girl.\" Stern snarled before taking off his gauntlets and gathering the dagger who had bit into the tree and stopped only at the handle. The eyes of the greenskin were bearing a slightly red glow. \"I am not a religious man and you'd better speak only when your words bear truth.\". The big hands of the paladin bore many scars and were clenched in fists. \" My people died many winters ago killed by people we never met before. The gods did not help me and neither do they care about me. I hunt for the Order to protect families who unlike us live happily. Men of the Order die for others and have been doing it for centuries. Cursing their souls is something your young heart should never do.\"\nStern growled before putting the dagger back into the sheath, his muscles were tensed up and ready to strike, yet the hunter returned to sit at the fire. \"Don't you dare insult them in my presence again, for they are...\" He stopped.\nHe spat on the ground and cracked his knuckles as he tried to relax."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nShe didn't flinch, simply turning her head to look at the dagger. To his statements she merely replied, \"Where was your order when my parents were murdered, when a little girl lost her innocence and was forced into the cruel world of violence and lust. Who died for me, hmm? Why is your order not in the southern aisles, slaughtering slavers and freeing their victims?\" She sighed and shook her head, \"Throw your knives and threaten your violence, I've been at the mercy of men who did the same... And they'll wish they hadn't.\" She said with a cool, uncaring tone. \"You insult and speak ill of Mercenaries and sellswords, your contempt for me is obvious. Do not think your order any better, nobody helps anyone just put of kindness. It's not the way of the world.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern shook his head \"The Order cannot be everywhere and that is why I am here. We try to help as many people as possible and we never get paid for our contracts. Do you think I haven't lived in anger as you do? Your heart cannot burn forever... Not without turning into ash.\" The greenskin's red eyes met hers, two blood red orbs, a mirror of years of solitude and nightmares, mirrors of a torn soul. \"Walk the path of hatred and you will be consumed by it. This is not life... Zor Malak nor Vokosh...\" Stern instinctively used the tongue of his people before looking away from her.\nHe closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.\n\"A life spent in anger is not worth living.\"\nHe translated before he opened his eyes once again. The red glow was starting to dissipate. The flow of rage was once again being stopped by the paladin's iron will. \"You cannot do this to yourself, you cannot turn into a Kodrakesh...\" The last word had a heavy tone, filled with solemnity and a slight dose of fear. Stern returned to his silence and massaged his eyes.\nHe kept the meaning of that word for himself.\nA choice he felt was the wisest."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nShe sighed and shook her head, \"I have thirty names and faces to find and kill. When I do that, maybe then I will put my anger behind me... Maybe when those who made me this way share the terror and agony I felt at their hands... Maybe then I can die peacefully. But until that day, big man, until that day I will not let myself forget. I won't let a waking second be given to the thought of peace, I have held my will and my rage for twenty three years. Stop trying to fix what isn't broken, you coped with your past your way. Let me handle mine.\" Her words were just as heavy and firm, she was young and brash and refused to back down. She would not be cowed into submission and acceptance, \"You found your calm waters... But I still sit in the hurricane... The waves are choppy. I will rise above the tide, even if I must stand upon a raft of corpses to do it.\" The darkness that gripped her was not one easily undone, her soul was already consumed by rage and hatred."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern caressed his beard, his eyes once again looking into the flames. \"Nor mahesh vor Kodrakesh...\"\nHe muttered before moving the embers a bit with a stick. \"My name is Stern Logarsh of The Boar Clan, I will hunt with you and protect your life.\"\nHe sentenced briefly. The crackling of the fire made his pointy ears twitch slighty in a way that resembled a cat or a dog. Stern had become serious, his expression was once again statuary and cold. Something in him had awoken... A feeling of danger and incoming doom... Yet, as always, Stern did not run from such feelings and decided to coexist with them... Especially when those feelings wrapped tightly around someone he knew. The silence of the greenskin always carried a heavy meaning..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nShe eyed him suspiciously, as if she didn't quite trust his word. \"Stern... A fitting name, I am Tanyth Carven.\" She crossed one leg over the other, looking almost like a proper lady, \"If you are to be my ally then listen closely... This is *My* Past and these are *My* Demons. I will kill them as I see fit, and you will use your station as a White Rose to get the guards on our side... As a compromise I will allow you to remove their families if they have them and assure you I won't torture them for longer than... Half an hour.\" She didn't seem willing to budge, though half an hour was much better than the six she'd intended... Not to mention what unspoken plan she'd had to get any possible wives or children to let her do such things."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern remained silent. \nHe began removing the upper part of his gear, remaining bear chested. He enjoyed the lack of upper clothing, especially without the long and heavy robes. \nHis muscular body was covered by a mosaic of scars, two of them were bigger than Tanyth's forearm. He stretched, growling softly. \"I will not help you.\" He folded his robes as Vigi taught him, his movements were surprisingly careful, expressing the importance of that attire for him. A tattoo was running around his left bicep: a circle of thorns, symbol of his vows of servitude to the Order. Stern caressed it before letting the warmth of the campfire kiss his skin in that so familiar way. His tense muscles relaxed. \nHe wouldn't have gone against his vows and beliefs to aid a Kodrakesh... It was one of the few taboos of his now lost clan."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad\n\n\"Then why come?\" She growled, shaking her head, she should've just accepted she missed the contract and moved on to her own job. Now she was stuck in the forest with this creature and a shifter. \"If you won't help, then the only other reason I can imagine you following me is to try and stop me, you'd have an easier time convincing that shifter out there to join your order.\" She said stiffly, turning sideways to lay on the ground by the fire. The insignia clasp glinted in the light, a glittering silver reminder that the angry and defiant girl was a very experienced soldier."
}
] | 195.5 | 2,119 |
245.75 | 2019-04-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of gorangrad \n\nThe mercenary had become distracted, her brown eyes watching the dancing flames. Her muscles seemed to relax and a smile played at the corner of her mouth, \"That owl carving... I think I'll pay you back for it.\" She said easily, her tone gentle. What came next was something she'd not done since last she felt happy on the sea, she sang, with voice like the caress of a cool ocean breeze after a long day's labor. \n\n\n*\"Farewell and adieu unto you Elvish ladies,\nFarewell and adieu to you ladies of the East,\nFor we 'ave received orders to sail for old Marin\nBut we hope very soon we shall see you again\nWe'll rant and we'll roar like true Marin sailors\nWe'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas\nUntil we strike soundings in the Port of old Marin\nFrom Tonate to Brindelle is thirty-five leagues.\"*\n\n\nShe looked far and away, her eyes unfocused as she called up the warm memories of childhood to sing for her new friend. \n*\"Now let every man toss off a full bumper\nAnd let every man drink off a full glass\nAnd we'll drink and be merry and drown melancholy\nSinging, here's a good health to each true-hearted lass.\"*\nWith the song over, her nostalgic happiness was broken by the bitter truth of the memories and her pretty brown eyes darkened with the ever present rage. \"Thank you for the owl.\" She mumbled, pulling her cowl up to hide away her face."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern's ears perked up slightly as a slight shiver ran up his spine, an effect of his sensitive hearing.\nThe greenskin's heart began to feel warmer as the sweet and silky melody of the young mercenary's song brought sound to the cave.\nA voice as clear and soft as the one of his adoptive mother, when she used to sing to calm his fury. \nThe beautiful voice of women being the only true way to calm the hunter when his crimson eyes were glowing.\nThat soothing feeling spread across Stern's body in waves, giving him goosebumps. In his life after the loss of his people, nobody had ever sang for him...\nThe hunter closed his eyes, letting his consciousness drift through the misty recesses of his mind, away from the dark and haunted memories that gave him no quarter even when sleeping.\nAs the song ended, Stern opened his deep hazel eyes, now slightly clearer, as if the shade of grief had left them momentarilly. He sighed and returned to the book. \n\nThe shards of ice in his heart began to melt slightly...\n\nUntil he glanced into the fire.\n\nBodies, his mother, the torch...\n\nThe darkness in his eyes returned."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThey were quite the pair of haunted creatures. They bore witness to nightmares, the worst of humanity, yet they sat reading and singing. \"My mothers and the crew would all sing that to me at night as I lay down to sleep, on good nights I dream of those times... Laying in my hammock and listening to fifty voices singing me to sleep.\" She slid her sword back into its sheath and gazed over the green creature. \"So what in the nine hells are you anyway? You don't look like an elf, or a half breed... What were your people like? Can you remember your culture?\" Her voice and tone held indifference and curiosity in equal measure. She didn't care what he was, but her curiosity couldn't handle not knowing."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern's lips formed a smile, followed by a chuckle, both things incredibly rare to find in him.\nHe closed the book and turned in her direction. \"I do not know.\" He scratched his beard. \"My people called me Goruk, which means Boar. They thought I was an avatar of Nok'lorgazadd, a god of nature who protects hunters... But I don't feel godly... Other people called me in many ways: monster, demon, greenskin, abomination... And yet not even the ancient tomes of the Order can explain my existence... I've never met anybody like me and so I think I am the only Goruk...\" The last sentence bore a heavy load of sadness...\nStern had never felt love nor his heart had ever found another one to be linked to. Cursed with a lonesome life, the greenskin was not new to that kind of questions. In the end, all that mattered was how he was, not what he was...\n\nAt least for the time being..."
}
] | 240.5 | 983 |
210.666667 | 2019-04-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of goreng rad\n\nThe mercenary nodded, \"Well the Goruk are a fine people, I'm sure.\" She said calmly, there was little emotion I'm her voice so whether it was sympathy or honest opinion was up in the air. Regardless she looked tired, her eyes trailing out into the snowy night, \"I don't think that shifter is gonna show... May have spooked it. I'm gonna get some shut eye, big man, don't go off hunting by yourself.\" She said sleepily as she laid down, rolling over so her back faced him. She murmured something almost inaubily, though with his heightened hearing, \"Be a real shame if you died.\"\n\nSoon she was out cold, making the soft snoring sounds that sounded more like they ought to be coming from a pretty lady of means... And not a mercenary toting a sword nearly as big as she was."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nMirian had been walking through the forest for what seemed like (and what likely was) days. She didn't know. The constant chatter from her 'companions' made it hard to focus. Her steady gait turned into a weak trudge as she gripped her father's axe tight in her arms. The small, malnourished girl approached the pair, completely unaware of them. Her footsteps disturbed the snow and leaves, making nothing short of a large ruckus. Her dragging feet soon gave out, sending her face first towards the ground as she yelped out."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe greenskin couldn't help but hear the mumbled words of the mercenary. They felt... Caring... Something he had not felt in years and that started something that he couldn't describe... He felt... Good. The feeling lasted very little as the hunter's nose revealed the presence of an approaching creature.\nHe quickly put on his robes and strapped his gauntlets on, the spear immediately in his hands. Stern hugged the wall of the cave, letting his nose and ears tell him where the stranger was located.\nThe yelp and the consequent thud of the fall made him grip tighter onto his weapon. He remained silent before taking a peek from the edge of the rock formation. A girl was laying face down into the snow, an axe in her hand.\nStern growled to himself, his nose did not help him to define possible traces of wolf scent, which made him definitely nervous.\nHe picked up a pebble from the ground and trew it so it could fall less than a foot away from the body. \n\nNo signs of movement.\n\nThe greenskin looked at tanyth, trying to calculate the risks of exiting the cave. In the end, Stern exited the cavern, taking small and steady steps, making sure not to make too much noise.\nAs he reached the definitely small girl, he growled and kicked her side softly. As he did so, he stepped back and pointed the spear at her, waiting for a response."
}
] | 194 | 632 |
228.384615 | 2019-04-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe response from the child made Stern fairly certain that, as long as both him and the fairly slaughter happy lady on his left were keeping an eye on the child, there was certainty of her not trying to attack them or turn into an animal.\nStern pulled the spear back and eyed Tanyth his eyes covered by the hood, which only left his tusks and beard showing. \"Put your sword away and check our surroundings, I'll take care of this matter.\"\nStern could instinctively percieve the fear of the little girl and yet he believed that, by following what his mentor taught him, he could have solved the mystery of a little girl wandering the snowy woods with an axe.\nThe 7'5 feet tall paladin kneeled towards the little girl, his right hand was still holding firmly onto the spear. He tried to speak softly, a feat almost impossible due to his almost demonic voice. \"Greetings, little one... What are you doing all alone in the woods?\"\nThe hunter had never found himself talking to a child who wasn't a member of his now lost tribe. It felt fairly... Difficult."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Forest of gorangrad\n\nThe Mercenary nodded and took her hand off her sword, letting the hand holding the still sheathed weapon hang at her side. \"Stay in sight, even if she isn't a shifter it may be following her.\" She said calmly, walking behind the girl and following the way she'd come from. She made sure to stay within Stern's line of sight, and frequently looked back at him to ensure he hadn't been attacked.\n\nShe needed to work on her people skills, children weren't like adukts... They were safe and usually pretty trustworthy. She shouldn't scare them, *\"I'll do better, be better.\"* She mumbled quietly to herself."
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "Once all the Warriors had arrived to the gathering area Damien Brass greeted them all individually. Damien Brass had turned to Lumikki and given her a warm smile, Damien: \"Yes you are correct ma'am\", Damien had then turned to the other fighters. Damien: \"Now if you all would like follow me I shall guide you into the arena\", Damien had said a bit timidly as he had started to guide the warriors into the arena, the roars of the crowd had been heard even before they had entered the arena. \n\nDavid Brass had then sat upon his large chair in the royal viewing area of the arena, the viewing area had a great view of the whole arena, David had looked down at the mud covered arena its wooden structure stood strong. \n\nThe warriors had began to approached the centre of the arena and David had watched the warriors with interest, David had been impressed by how difference they all had been, but still David hadn't held his breath that anyone of these warriors where yet worthy to serve him or House Brass.\n\nDavid chuckled as he had stood up David had then shooed off the women that had been sitting on his lap and rubbing his shoulders. \nDavid: \"Anyway whores!\" His voice had risen as he snapped at the women, as they had run off David approached the end of the balcony, David had gave all the warriors a grin then spoke loudly and proudly\nTowards the fighters.\n\nDavid: \"You all know the rules there are non, armed with only the strength of your bodies and minds, a true test for any fighter\". \nDavid had then gestured to the large crowd that had been growing as David spoke, \"This is our moment my people, follow true seafarers of The Horn Hills, today we prove in this moment we are strong, we are worth the Sea's we rule over \".\nDavid had then pointed down towards warriors \"We are worth dying for\" The crowd cheered loudly as Damien looked toward the fighters and sighed deeply. \n\nThe winds of the north had started to blow a cold bitter wind as David had said loudly \"WE LIVE AND DIE BY THE SEA!\" The crowd echoed David's words.\nDavid then had looked down at the warriors once again as the wind blew colder \"I don't need to tell you what your fighting for you already now that, don't disappoint me or you'll die by my hand not your opponents\".\n\nDavid had said coldly towards the fighters before he'd returned to his large seat.\nDamien had slowly walked forward and announced the first contest \"Sir Edmund Silverstep step forth and will The Lord Of\" Damien clears his throat, \"Excuse me I apologise for that, I mean The Overlord Of Leviathan's Den first of his name Thorod Lockbeard step forth!\" Damien voice had echoed through the arena, Thorod steps forth a large man Thorod made deep marks in the mud with each step he'd took, Thorod had then turned to Edmund Thorod: \"Death or crippled it's your choice\" As Thorod had said this toward Edmund,\nDamien guided the other warriors out of the way of the fight soon to being."
},
{
"author": "_very_",
"message": "Senbenuel Khester\n\nThe Horn Hills\n\n\"Kind of him to give him a choice I think. Crippled might be the right way to go though yeah?\" Sen tied the blindfold around his face tighter. \"I do honestly hope this doesn't count as body armor, wouldn't want my opponent to be disturbed and all\" It would be easy to become perplexed by Sen's situation, he talked as if anyone around him honestly gave a shit about what he was saying."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "She retreated further back into the coat, and the thick snow as he kneeled down to her. She held the axe even tighter as she gulped, preparing to respond. \n\n**\"I-I'm... Running away!\"**\n\nShe nodded as she hid her face. She spoke softly and timidly, her red hair draping over her eyes as she looked up at Stern.\n\n**\"I-I'm sorry I disturbed you... You two...\"**\n\nShe whined softly."
},
{
"author": "wastedmintz",
"message": "Lumikki Eisenhald \nHorn hills brawling Arena\n\nLumikki pulled her hood over her head as the bitter winds nipped at her exposed cheeks. Staying silent, she listened to the man, hanging off of every word. The wolf had stayed close to her for now, eyeing others as they passed. Lumikki had over heard the blind man talking, he sounded nervous, like her. She walked over, the beast followed, and placed a hand on his shoulder without a word. It was a warm sensation from both ends. She pat it twice, then walked out of the brawling arena, as the first match was to begin shortly. \n\nIt wasn't even her turn and she already felt her insides churning with anxiety."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad.\n\nStern nodded before searching his bag. He clenched his fist around the object before presenting it to the child. It was a carved piece of oak wood shaped into a sparrow. \nThe greenskin moved slowly, the same way he would have moved when trying to approach a stag or a hare. Each of his movements was careful and slow. \n\"We are not going to harm you, come with me so you can rest. This forest is dangerous and I promise I will take you to the nearest village.\" \nStern's actions and behaviour seemed to be more human than he looked, portraying a natural predisposition to parenthood and yet remained nothing but instincts in the mind of the hunter. \nThe fact that a child was trusting a green skinned giant was odd to say the least. Stern looked up at Tanyth, nodding to himself as his way to appreciate the initiative of the mercenary. \"There's nothing following the child, you can come back.\" Stern's nose was doing its job brilliantly, even tho he was expecting the shifter to be smart enough to cover its smell... The paladin saw the opportunity to bluff because, in case the shifter would actually have been around, it would have kept a certain level of confidence."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nForest of Gorangrad\n\nThe Mercenary stared into the forest for a moment longer, \"Where are you, creature? Why do you wait?\" She growled softly to herself before finally turning around and heading back toward Stern and the child. \"So what is a wee lamb like this one doing out here with the wolves?\" She asked as she drew close enough for the child to hear her, the tone she used was soft and kind... The same gentle tone her mothers had used to sooth her when she was fussy. It was a stark contrast to how she'd been just moments before... And with how she'd been with Stern."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nThe Witherlands, Barrmount Manor\n\nCatarina's breath caught in her chest at the sound of the door being opened and the appearance of the lady of the manor. Her eyes widened, causing them to bulge a bit from her shrunken face, and she couldn't help but stare at the woman that stood before her. She had not been prepared to have the door opened by the lady herself. Rather, she had assumed that one of the servants would answer the door and she would be brought before the head butler or something. Never would she have imagined this! Sibyl was the picture of elegance and grace, and the dress she wore was one of the most vibrant that Cat had seen since leaving Terresol. It filled her with a pang of longing, for a moment. How was Mireli? Was Charity taking good care of her? Did she now wear brilliantly colored dresses like this? She knew that Charity would be able to give Mireli a better life than she could have given her... \n\nShe quickly pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the woman before her. She suddenly felt more drab and plain then ever, like a wilting flower. Like a dandelion in the middle of a rose garden. Sibyl's intense, withering gaze only made Catarina wilt more, and she cast her eyes downward as she ducked into the house. Although she didn't look around, she could instantly sense the magnificence of the manor. It had a clean, crisp sense to it; prim and proper—so far from the squalor that Cat had known for so much of her life! More than that, it was warm, and for the first time in quite some time, she did not feel the bitter chill of winter's claws against her skin.\n\nShe kept her gaze down and removed the cap from her head, holding it awkwardly in her hands and fiddling with it as she said, \"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am.\" She carefully chose her words and spoke in the most proper way she could. She had received some education while in Terresol, and at the moment, she put it to good use. \"I didn't...\" She stopped herself, then instead said in a voice that was a bit more confident, \"I'm not here to beg for anything, ma'am. I would never trouble you looking for a handout, but someone in the village said that you might be able to help me. Do you need any work done? I'd be happy to work for you, in exchange for a bit of food. I can do housework or whatever you need me to do! I might not look it, but I'm strong and useful! I can do whatever you need done!\" Only then did she finally gather the courage to raise her eyes to meet Sibyl's gaze, her own eyes intent and pleading as she looked into those chilly ones, like the first frosts that came and withered away the last of summer's flowers."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThere wasn't much signs of trust in her eyes, nor in her voice. Just a lot of fear, and a bit of desperation. She **Still** Cluchted the axehead tight in her hands as she took a shaky breath in. \n\n**\"I-I'm fine. I'm a tough girl I-I can take care of myself.\"**\n\nShe was still in her shell-like coat as she spoke, the thick fur hushing her voice a bit. She put a hand to her side and pushed herself up to a sit, as she hugged her axe."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nStern stood up with her, demonstrating once again his gargantuan physique. The girl wasn't taller than his mid thigh and definitely small enough to be lifted and carried with ease, something that Stern couldn't help but consider as useful information. \"Strong girl or not, you cannot venture into the woods alone.\" Stern put the wooden sparrow back into his bag and eyed the axe.\n\n \"Your father must be a strong man.\"\n\nStern caressed his beard before introducing himself. \"My name is Stern Logarsh of The Boar Clan, Knight of the Order if the White Rose... May I know your name, strong girl?\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nForest of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth was eyeing the woodline, watching and listening. \"Mine is Tanyth Carven, I am a Mercenary. Our camp is just in that cave there,\" She said with a motion of her free hand. Her eyes fell on the girl, and she smiled warmly, \"You remind me of myself... I have no doubts you are strong and capable, but if you listen to only one thing that I say from one tough girl to another-\" She held her hand put to the girl, \"-there's nothing wrong with accepting a little help when things get hard.\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nMirian looked to the man, rubbing her nose, which was red from the cold. She nodded and huffed.\n\n**\"I'm... I'm Mirian. Mirian Trunth.\"**\n\nShe then looked to Tanyth, and listened to her before Tanyth. Offered out her hand. She took a long breath as she thought the whole situation over, the voices in her head pitching their two sense in.\n\n*\"They're going to hurt you, or sell you off as a slave or something. Don't trust them.\"*\n\n*\"They're big and strong. They can teach you to protect yourself, ya little runt.\"*\n\nEct, ect. She eventually nodded and put her hand in Tanyth's, standing to her feet."
}
] | 148 | 2,969 |
166.875 | 2019-04-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe paladin silently nodded at Tanyth before heading back into the cave. His robes moved by the light wind gave the male a certain degree of solemnity. The greenskin rested his spear against the rocky wall of the cave before returning to the contemplation of the flames. \nThe presence of a child would have made the hunt much more difficult and dangerous as he was now bound by both his code and morality to protect the girl. The flames revealed a rather musing expression... Something usual for him. \nHe shook his head, somehow not surprised by the new situation the Gods had made him find himself into...\n'A Shifter... Then a Kodrakesh... Then a child... By the Maradian Forest...' \nThe greenskin cursed in his ancient tongue before shrugging and moving the fire with a stick."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth smiled at the girl and gently squeezed her hand, it was so small... Delicate, innocent. Tanyth lead the child back to the cave, sitting her by the fire and wrapping her crimson cloak around the girl's shoulders.\n\nShe sat down and let her eyes drift from Stern to the girl and back again, after a quiet moment she spoke, \"Why we're running through a dangerous forest at night, Mirian? Why do you cling so tightly to that axe head?\" Her voice was gentle, and held concern, while she agreed with stern that they should take her back to the village... She wanted to know why a little girl was all alone in the forest. \n\nMostly so she knew whether to punch and berate, or outright kill, the girl's parents if they showed. Though such feelings were not present on her face or in her tone."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad\nShe huffed and put the axe in her lap, and hugged the cloak around her. She stared into the fire as she began to speak.\n\n**\"I told you- I'm running away. My parents disowned me, and I don't- I don't like them anyways.\"**\n\nShe made a small *Hmph* Noise before she started speaking again.\n\n**\"And it's because this is my father's axe- He left it to me before I ran away.\"**\n\nShe turned to Tanyth.\n\n**\"You two seem like a good couple, though. Can't I stay with you?\"**\n\nShe asked, eyes twinkling as they looked up to her."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern's eyes darted to the child... A word... A word that confused him...\n\n\"A couple?\"\n\nThe greenskin did not seem to understand what the girl meamt with that word, as Stern had never been addressed as part of a group in that tongue.\nHe looked at Tanyth before returning to gaze upon the child. \"We will keep you safe until we'll reach the village of Gorangrad... Then we will decide on what to do.\"\nStern scratched his beard and nudged the axe the child was holding with his left foot. \n\"You might need to learn how to handle that, little one...\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth listened carefully, then snorted and laughed at the girl's assumption. \"I-I am not this man's woman. He has made no effort to win my heart, and we are simply hunting a shifter together for this one night.\"\n\nStill... Stern was a good man, handsome too. Then again, she could not trust men... No matter their race. Above all else a male desired power, and Tanyth would not submit or compromise to suit one. He would have to work his way into her heart, and she doubted he wanted to.\n\n\"Why would your parents disown you, child? You are beautiful... And strong to have made it this far alone. They are fools to cast you out into the cold,\" *'and perhaps I will kill them for doing so.'* The thought came unbidden to her mind, but she welcomed it... No parent worth the air they breathed abandoned their child."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\nShe smiled a bit as she called her beautiful and strong. She continued to hug the cloak as she spoke once more.\n\n**\"I-I don't know. And I don't care. I never want to see them again anyways.\"**\n\nShe was a good actor. And luckily she had cleaned the blood from her father's axe, so it would be rather difficult to find out she had infact killed both of her parents. \n\n**\"And... You two would make a nice couple, then.\"**\n\nShe looked back and forth between the two.\n\n**\"I can use the axe well enough.\"**\n\nShe sounded cocky."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nAs Tanyth spoke about not being his woman, Stern felt a rather old mixture of emotions... Years had passed since the last time he felt the warmth of a kiss and the mere thought was enough to darken his green cheeks... Something that lasted very little before the frost returned to wrap around his heart.\nHe focused on what Mirian had to say.\nThe story... A child disowned for apparently no reason...\nIf disowned why gave her an axe...\nWhy didn't she care...\nThe paladin nodded to himself and got up, walking back out of the cave. He did not take the spear with him, wanting to test the child's confidence. He crossed his arms \"Prove it.\" His voice was serious as his nose was telling him something he couldn't quite put into words. \n\"A warrior who shows pride must demonstrate their source of pride.\"\nHe waited for her, his deep hazel eyes locked onto her."
},
{
"author": "sweet_sleem",
"message": "Sir Edmund Silverstep\n\nBrass Keep Fighting Pit, The Horn Hills\n\nEdmund stood from his position at the entrance of the pit, pushing himself off the wall with a thrust of his elbow. \"For House Silverstep!\" He called, pointing to the crowd and earning a reasonable roar. \n\nHe was shirtless, his well built body on display. A thick swath of cloth was wrapped around his abdomen, brown hair tied into a tight knot. He tightened the wraps on his hands and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. \"If you're giving me the choice, Beast Man—\" The petty lord spit on the ground and smirked, \"I'd love to see you crippled.\""
}
] | 163.5 | 1,335 |
129.357143 | 2019-04-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of gorangrad\n\nTanyth smirked, listening to the chuld. She did so remind the mercenary of herself, but then Tanyth had been a very different girl at her age. She felt a nagging suspicion, was that look in the girl's eyes the same? Children were innocent creatures, even if... She had to have a reason. \n\nDeciding not to pry Tanyth instead focused her attention on Stern, \"Well that's hardly fair my large friend. You're almost four times her size, even I would have trouble over powering you and I'm not that much smaller.\" She chuckled, standing up, she looked down at Mirian and smiled, \"Don't worry little one... He won't hurt you, and if he did I'd stomp his handsome green face in.\" \n\nLove was a fickle thing, and while she found Stern an attractive mate she had no interest in such things. She had a job to do, people to kill, she couldn't do that with some male following her around like a lost puppy. Especially not stern, he wouldn't be able to handle what she was going to do. Maybe one day she'd go looking for love, but no number of little girls in the snow could convince her to do it now."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\nShe looked over to Tanyth as she spoke, holding her axe at the ready.\n\n**\"Can I-? Can I fight him?\"**\n\nShe says with a rascally smirk as she bobs up and down. She looked to Stern and narrowed her eyes. It might be just a little intimidating, if she wasn't so gosh darn cute. She stuck her tongue out as she waited for Tanyth to give her the go.\n*Release the hounnnNND*"
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nAs the child prepared herself, Stern entered a simple stance, breathing calmly as he prepared to verify his doubts or to simply discard them.\nHe was surprised by the strength of the girl. The axe she was wielding wasn't certainly light...\n\nStern looked at Tanyth, nodding at her to inform her that he would have acted carefully.\nAs he did so, he realized how familiar that situation felt..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of gorangrad\n\nTanyth looked between the two, smiling broadly for no conceivable reason. \"Try not to hurt him, Mirian.\" She said with a wink as she sat down by the fire and watched the pair. The Mercenary didn't expect anything out of the ordinary, the two would wrestle around and it'd be understandably adorable."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nShe stands up and runs towards Stern, holding the axe high above her head as she screams an adorable battle cry. She went to swing the axe, but simply fell sideways as she did."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nStern shook his head befor kneeling to see if the child had injured herself. As he assured himself of her well being, he sighed \"Truly a great display of valor in combat, little one.\"\nThe hunter picked Mirian up by her waist before making her sit onto his shoulder. He held onto her axe as long as she was up there. \nHe was about to say something when his eyes suddenly widened. \nA faint smell of blood...\nComing from the axe...\nThe wooden handle had been washed and yet some dried blood had remained in the small crevice between blade and handle.\n\nThe hunter's eyes moved in the little one's direction as he put her down once again. \n\n\"Who died struck by this blade, child.\"\n\nStern's voice was now very growly, with the depth of the ocean in it, a primal tone that portrayed the emotions of the hunter."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of gorangrad \n\nTanyth laughed happily, watching the girl tumble over into the snow. She'd stood and headed out to congratulate her on her valor. \n\nOnly for Stern to speak lowly, his question hanging on her ears. She strode forward, now tensed and ready as she stepped between the orc and the child. \"Children do not kill without at very good reason, violence does not come naturally to a child.\" She scolded him, holding the child's shoulder while keeping herself between Mirian and Stern."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nShe pouted as she lied on the ground, her axe gripped tight. She giggled softly as she was picked up and sat on his shoulder, but grasped the air for her axe as he held it. She tensed up as she questioned her and put her down. \n\n**\"N-No-one...\"**\nShe squeaked out as Tanyth stepped forward. She cowered behind her, clearly frightened by Stern's tone."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter eyed Tanyth with a musing look. He groaned, finding himself once again to witness the cruelty of those dark times. He sighed, growling softly.\n\nThe child was a murderer... \n\n\"I need you to promise us that you will not try to harm us. I don't want to defend myself from a child.*\n\nStern looked at Mirian as he gripped tightly onto the weapon. \" I cannot protect you if you will try to harm us.\" The paladin kneeled and held the axe forward. \"If you accept to give me your word, I will give you the axe, but if you will lie to me, you will be on your own.\"\n\nThe cold heart of the greenskin was being moved by logic, as he was trying to keep his anger at bay. An anger derived by the way the world he lived in tortured its inhabitants... Even children."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth frowned at Stern, \"I will watch her. I do not think she will hurt us.\" Perhaps the mercenary was too trusting... Perhaps she was being too lenient. \n\nBut she'd wait, wait for Mirian to give the answer. Then she and the child would go back into the cave and have a quiet talk amongst the two of them, finding out the reason she'd killed was important."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nShe held out her hand towards the axe, then pulled it back. She knew she didn't want to hurt either of them, as they seemed very nice, and could take care of her much better than her parents did.\n\n**\"I won't... I won't hurt either of you...\"**\nShe put her hand in the axe."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad\n\nTension left the eyes of the hunter, who let the little girl take the axe before patting her head with his gargantuan hand. He had no reason to hold a grudge, as he understood that even if the child would have attacked him, he would have been able to defend himself.\nHe nodded at her and sighed.\n\"I want to trust you. Thank you for giving me your word.\"\nThe greenskin got back up and stretched, waiting for the child to reunite with Tanyth. \nHe caressed his beard as he let logic go silent for some time."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nForest of gorangrad\n\nTanyth led the girl back into the cave and sat her down by the fire. She didn't blame stern, not in the least, he was doing what he thought would keep them safe. \n\nAfter a quiet moment she placed a hand on the child's shoulder, \"Do not worry... We all have reasons for killing. Tell me yours child, so that I might understand you better. I've killed more than my share of people, so do not fear judgment or ridicule.\" Her tone was soft, kind, understanding. It sounded, in simpler terms, motherly. Though pointing such out to her would likely just make the mercenary angry."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nShe held the axe tight, as she did when she first met the hunters. She rubbed her nose and huffed.\n\n\"I- It was self defense.\"\nShe murmured as she gazed into the fire.\n\n\"These... Nasty highwaymen started to push me around and said awful, awful things about me... And-\"\nShe stopped, shaking her head.\n\n\"Anyways, they weren't aware of the axe, and as they turned to grab rope from their saddlebags, I attacked.\"\nShe explained as her gaze stayed locked on the fire. Of course we ooc know this is a lie, but she told it so well and with such conviction that it would be hard to tell."
}
] | 114 | 1,811 |
151.142857 | 2019-04-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nMirian hopped to attention as Stern and Tanyth barked orders at her. She whined quietly as she gripped the axe handle and stuck close behind Stern, practically on his heels. She glance back to Tanyth and gripped her axe harder.\n\n*Whaddya gonna do with that? Crack em' up to death?*\n\nShe whined again and held a hand over her head as she let the axe rest by her side. She wasn't sure what was happening, and the teasing voices in her head weren't helping.\n\n\"What's- What's going on, Stern!?\"\nShe squeaked out in a hushed tone behind him as she grabbed her axe with two hands again. She was **Going** To be ready to defend herself and her newfound friends. Or so she believed."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter didn't waste time in explaining and quickly lifted the child, carrying her under his arm. His eyes were adapting once again to the darkness of the cave, something Stern knew would have given him the upper hand against human and shifter foes. \"Tanyth! Behind me, we must keep moving!\"\nThe cave was getting smaller yet Stern could clearly see how it was dividing itself into different galleries. His nose told him about a possible exit on the left, which he quickly took. Tanyth would have needed to move slowly due to the darkness, a thought that the greenskin did not like. \nHe decided to put the little girl down after he found a good hiding spot. \"Stay here, I will bring Tanyth here and we will continue.\"\nThere was a fatherly tone in his voice, an instinctive role he took as the need to protect others became primary.\n\nHe growled as he could smell sweat...\n\nFrom the outside, arrows had stopped reaching Tanyth, leaving silence. \nThen a rattling noise was heard, a noise which seemed to come from all the sides of the cavern surrounding Tanyth."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nForest of gorangrad\n\nTanyth had backed down the tunnel, several arrows lay broken near the entrance where she'd deflected or caught and broken them. However she had not been perfect, an arrow protruded from her left pauldron. It had not hit flesh, having been stopped by her chainmail and under clothes, but it had still struck. There was also a new scratch along the left side of her helmet, as if she'd moved her head just in time to not catch the offending arrow through her eye. \"Come on, show yourselves. You cannot shoot me from where you are... Not anymore.\" She murmured to herself, brown eyes searching the woodland outside. Whatever the rattle was, she was certain Stern would cover her back if it was in the cave... If not then she would handle it herself.\n\nShe wasn't going to turn tail and run though, not until she'd ensured they weren't being followed."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian held her axe tight in between her arms as she was picked up and carried. She looked back to Tanyth as she was hoisted away by Stern and frowned. She curled into a ball as she was placed down and nodded to Stern.\n\n\"Make sure she's okay!\"\nShe sort of ordered. Her voice was soft, and obviously concerned. She held her axe tight as she looked around and hear breathing hastened."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, caverns of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter quickly reached Tanyth, his feet flying from rock to rock as Stern's muscle memory returned to the days he used to hunt bears in their caves.\nThe greenskin immediately dropped his spear as he lifted a boulder the size of Tanyth.\n \"Stay back!\"\nSeconds later the rock hit hard against the wall of the cave, its vibrations making rocks fall from the edge of the cave. Following the rocks was the snow, creating a natural barricade outside the cave.\n\n\"There is a gallery to the left, the little girl is there. Go.\""
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nForest of gorangrad \n\nTanyth turned in time to see him coming, and understand his plan. She quickly moved back, only once the commotion had died down did she approach Stern. \"I am not some demure lady, Paladin. I don't need protection, she does.\" \n\nWith that she turned and headed into the cavern, it was dark and gloomy and she had trouble seeing.\n Even so she stuck to the left and eventually found her way to the gallery, \"Mirian. Come to my voice, darling, it's difficult to see in this darkness.\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Miran Trunth, Forest of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian was still looking around, hardly able to see anything. She listened to Tanyth's approaching footsteps and popped up to attention, gripping the axe's handle.\n\n\"I'm not afraid to use this!\"\nShe called out, before hearing Tanyth's voice.\n\n\"Tanyth?\"\nShe walked towards the voice, her small feet making quiet pats against the cave's floor."
}
] | 127 | 1,058 |
146.84375 | 2019-05-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, caverns of Gorangrad\n\nStern was about to turn his back and follow Tanyth, but when he began looking for the cave on the left, he found nothing but a wall of cold stone. The paladin took a few steps back, trying to understand the meaning behind that so unexpected event.\n\"What sorcery is this!?\"\nStern pushed against the wall, finding it as real as the rest of the cave. \nAfter slamming his fists against it, he picked up his spear and began running in the other tunnel. Something was wrong and he didn't like it."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth waited just a moment, locating the soft pitter patter of Mirian's feet. \"There you are, oh darling I was worried,\" She said gently as she stepped forward and caught the girl up in one arm. She tenderly hugged the girl against her cold Steel armor before she turned back to look behind her. \n\nShe could hear the pounding, \"I should have bought a latern while we were in the village... It was foolish of me to rely on the moon.\" She took Mirian's hand in hers and resolved to move away from the pounding sounds, the child was her priority, Stern would just have to catch up. \"Come on, Mirian, we need to get out of here... Did Stern tell you the way?\" She spoke softly, gently as not to create an echo or scare the child. \n\nTanyth could not see where she was going and so she focused on her other senses, smelling the air and listening for a breeze. She needed to get Mirian out of here, \"Stay close to me, Mirian, we will not be able to use our eyes. But all is not lost, try to smell the air, it is foul but if that smell weakens we are going the right way. Furthermore, listen and feel for wind, follow the way it is blowing from.\" \n\nShe pulled Mirian close and began to walk through the darkness, \"If we are alert, and vigilant, we can get out of here.\" She had not left Mirian to wonder and fear, she had given the child something to focus on... A way to help them both. It was far better, in her eyes, to have two sets of senses looking for the same things."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nAs the mercenary hugged the child, the body began to dissipate into a fine dust, falling from her arms and leaving her alone once again.\nCold began to fill the tunnel as a faint green glow could be seen on the other side of the tunnel, hidden by rocks.\nThen a sound, something sinister... Something dark...\nIt sounded like murmurs coming from the same spot.\n\nStern was nowhere to be seen and yet Tanyth felt like she was not completely alone..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth growled hatefully, dumping what was left of the dust out of her hand. The light ahead of her and the sounds served only to anger her further. \"You'd better hope that you fabricated that child... Because if I find her body there will be nothing that will protect you from me.\" She murmured hatefully, standing and striding toward the unearthly light.\n\nBehind that mask of rage and murderous intent, she was devestated, she'd been growing attached to Mirian in the short time she'd known her. Whatever these creatures or apparitions were, they'd awakened feelings in her they had not intended to with the use of mirian... And created a rage deeper than had fueled Tanyth before."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nThe dim green light seemed to be caused by what appeared to be a lantern with green glass... It was fairly similar to the lanterns found in any town or village and the lenses were covered by dust, the object was half covered by rocks and yet it was lit...\n\nThe light revealed a much smaller tunnel heading downwards, from which the murmurs appeared to sound slightly louder. \nThe cold was getting sharper and so was the feeling of being observed..."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian continued to slowly walk towards the faint silhouette in the darkness, gripping her axe tight. \n\n\"Tanyth..? Where is Stern?\"\nShe asked the figure as she got closer and closer."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "As for Mirian, the hand she was holding began to crumble to dust and slowly the whole silouette faded away.\nThe cavern was empty, dark and humid...\nSomething began to whisper... Something all around her..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth approached the latern, frowning behind her helm as she reached out and snatched up the strange thing, causing the rocks to tumble down to the cave floor. She shined it down the tunnel ahead, eyes narrowed in irritation. \n\n\"Where is my girl, spirit? If you so much as harm a hair on her little head...\" She mumbled furiously before she began to make her way toward the whispers, thoughts ran through her mind. She'd always had a fondness for children, they were safe and sweet... No threat. It always made her angry to see one hurt or in danger, but now... Now she was so angry she wondered if she could reach into the spirit world to throttle whatever creature was causing this and endangering her little Mirian.\n\nMaybe that was it... Maybe... No, no the quest was too important. Her revenge was too important, she stopped short and straightened up. \"Do I want kids?\" She asked aloud in a confused tone, then shook her head, \"No, no, I'd be a terrible mother... But maybe... Bah, focus Tanyth, focus.\" She murmured as she continued forward once more."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nAs Tanyth descended into the unknown recesses of the forest, the cold became almost unbearable. The ice covered walls of the tunnel glimmered as the light of the lantern gave the cave a surreal atmosphere.\nShe had been walking for five minutes when she found herself standing before a wall. A wall made of stone bricks showing some carvings in an unknown tongue.\nA small grate of rusty iron was the only entrance beyond the wall. The murmurs grew more intense..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns of gorangrad \n\nTanyth was doing her level best to ignore the cold, it was nothing she hadn't experienced before... Well the odd magic bullshit was new, but the cold felt familiar. \n\n\"Oh well this is just fine, probably a fucking necromancer.\" She snarled as she approached the grate and tried to force it open, nothing was going to stop her from finding that child... If there was one to find. \"Stern better get to the source of this shit before I do or I am going to do some shit to whatever it s that'll make his blood run cold. Probably call me Ko... Koda... Whatever that fucking word was.\" She'd gotten used to having someone to talk to... So now she couldn't help but talk to herself."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nBeyond the grate Tanyth could see a short corridor ending with a door. The light of a torch was showing from beneath the door. There was a slight trace of a scent... It reminded incense, but much more pleasant to the nose. She could hear a voice from behind the door... The voice of a woman speaking in a tongue she couldn't understand."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth frowned, gripping her greats word tightly as she advanced toward the door. She once again muttered a few hateful words about the situation before she paused st the door, perhaps to be coy and throw the creature off or perhaps because she was merely polite, possibly a mixture of both, the mercenary raised her hand and pounded on the door. Her mothers hadn't raised a rude woman who just barged in on others."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nThe female voice stopped talking and, after a couple of seconds, the sound of bare feet on stone was heard. The door opened slowly, letting out a beam of warm light coming from several torches.\n\nWhite fingers appeared, pulling the door aside.\n\nOn the doorstep was standing a vision of beauty worth the songs of a thousand bards. Black, curly hair were falling onto ivory shoulders, the skin was free of any flaw or mark, covered by thin and almost transparent veils of linen. Green eyes shun like emeralds as the lantern's light kissed them. The lips of the same shade of passion were perked into a confused smile.\nThe rest of the figure was a voluptuous body wrapped in a green robe. \n\"My lantern...\" The lady muttered before looking at the armored mercenary \"Who are you, brave knight?\" Her eyes seemed to reach Tanyth' even through the holes of the helmet.\nA gaze filled with curiosity and a pinch of fear."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian put her now dust covered hand back on the axe and held the axe up, ready to attack.\n\n\"Stop your whispering and come out! I-Im not scared of you!\"\nShe proclaimed, trying to keep her voice firm. By the end of the sentence, though, her voice started to quiver.\n\n\"Show yourself!\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nThe whispers grew closer before one among them became much louder than the others began to slither around the child's ears.\n\n\"You're all alone in the dark... Your friends are gone...\nAnd we are alone...\"\n\nA voice that sounded both feminine and masculine at the same time, vibrating through the dark cave like the cold shriek of metal grinding on metal. \nThe temperature began lowering itself, becoming almost unbearable."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyrh Carven\nForest of gorangrad \n\n\n\"I will not give you my name, but you may refer to me as Luna.\" She'd read legends... Myths about creatures who'd steal your soul if you gave them your name. She looked into the room beyond the figure, looking for Mirian. \"I was attacked, ambushed, my... My daughter ran I to these caves and I've lost track of her.\" She was lying but was doing so without any outward expression to betray it.\n\n\"Strange things have happened since then,\" She gripped her sword and her eyes narrowed at the woman, \"You wouldn't know anything about that would you?\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nShe swung the axe around her, grunting and huffing.\n\n\"Stop it! Leave me be!\"\nShe squeaked out as she felt the cold creep up her legs. She started to shake, but still continued to look around."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nThe young woman frowned, opening the door a little more. Her expression was a mirror of her worries as she raised her gaze once again.\n\n \"Lady Luna... I fear you and your daughter are in grave danger...\"\nThe green eyed lady held her hand on her own chest, looking at the sword Tanyth was holding. \"I am Valeria, I came here to study the ancient forest... I can help you, please come in.\"\n\nShe motioned her to enter the room. It was a rather spacious area, lit by torches and candles. Books and scrolls piled up in the corners and some vials were neatly tidied on wooden shelves, giving the impression of being kept with great care. Two more doors led to other rooms.\n\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\n\"You cannot harm what lies in your mind, child\"\n\nA dark and slow laughter echoed in the cave. The cold was stinging like needles as the voice spoke once again.\n\n\"A young murderer will be a fine soul to harvest... I can't wait t—\"\n\nThe voice broke as the world around Miriam began to spin.\n\nSeconds later, strong harms were shaking her frail body. A familiar voice was calling her name.\nA voice too growly to be human.\n\n \"Wake up, little one! We have no time to spend sleeping!\"\n\nStern was about to slap the child when he realized she was starting to regain consciousness. The orc sighed in relief and took a step back to leave room for the child to breathe. The cave was lit by a torch held by the paladin, who seemed covered in dirt and dust."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth hesitated at the door, an old saying from a story came to her mind, *'Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly'* Even so... She was much more well equipped than a fly.\n\nShe stepped forward into the room, eyes watching every corner, \"What have you learned... What has happened to my daughter, witch?\" She hoisted the lantern and shook it some, \"Do not deny magic... This fire is not natural, nor are the voices I've been hearing.\"\n\nThe woman was beautiful, but Tanyth was not so foolish as to let her guard down around this stranger, no matter how attractive she was."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nValeria's ivory skin became even more pale as Tanyth called her a witch. She shook her head before closing the door behind her. \"The whispers are not something I can control... I'm not a witch, I'm a healer from Terresol!\" She appeared startled.\nShe motioned towards a book.\n\"I need to show you something... Please don't hurt me...\"\nThe scared voice of the healer was a prelude to tears if Tanyth wouldn't have changed her aggressive behaviour."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth was glad for her helmet, the hot wave of shame that passed over her would've been visible. She pulled her scabbard off her back and placed her sword within it. \n\n\"I'm sorry... I'm just worried about my girl. I... I won't hurt you Valeria, and my name is Tanyth. I've had a bad life,\" She lowered her sword and set the lantern down. She removed her helmet, revealing her handsome face an platinum hair. \"Please, show me, I will not hurt you.\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian whined and covered her head, rolling up into a ball on the ground as the cold surrounded her. \n\n\"Stop! Stop! Sto-\"\nShe felt a faint numbness and a ringing in her ear as she returned to consciousness. She jolted awake and looked to Stern.\n\n\"Stern! Y- There-\"\nShe looked around, her lips curled into a frown as she grew confused. She looked back to Stern.\n\n\"Where's Tanyth?\"\nShe asked as she got up and held her axe."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad \n\n \n\nThe healer nodded timidely before opening the book, her fingers moving quick through the pages before she had found the information she was looking for. She looked up at Tanyth, looking directly into her eyes \"A creature... An old one... It lives in these galleries... Sleeping.\" She shuddered before frowning slightly \"It can talk through its thoughts and steal your soul... If your child is lost in the caves I hope she will not be noticed by it...\" The girl looked back up at Tanyth, this time worriedly. \"You... It touched you...\" She put the book back down before cupping Tanyth's cheeks in her hands \"You have a shadow in your eyes...\" She kept eye contact before taking a step back \"We must cleanse you of its influence before It's too late!\"\n\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nStern sighed, shaking his head \"I cannot seem to find her... Yet I think I heard some voices... They were looking for you.\" The hunter growled before he stood back up. His spear had yet to be stained by blood, something the greenskin could percieve as very likely to happen. He picked the child up. And let her sit on his shoulder before putting out the torch \"We will see with my eyes, try to remain quiet...\" He whispered before walking back into the tunnel. He would have found Tanyth... No matter the cost."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nCavern of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth pulled her head away and frowned at the woman, \"There is no influence upon me... My life has been a waking nightmare since I was five years old.\" She sighed, she cupped the woman's beautiful face and shook her head, \"This creature cannot break me, nothing can,\" She paused a moment then pulled her hand away. \"But if it will bring you comfort to do a cleansing ritual, then go ahead... It makes no difference to me.\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian sat on his shoulder gripping her axe tight. She did as she was asked, and kept quiet as she scanned the darkness. She wasn't sure what was happening, and she was very scared, but she tried to keep it together. Luckily for her the voices in her head were quiet. She didn't need two sets."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nValeria swallowed as her cheeks became visibly darker. She looked away, nodding. \"Follow me.\" She locked the door Tanyth entered from then reached one of the two doors, opening it and entering the room. The sound of running water reached Tanyth.\nThe room was candle lit and filled with vapours, showing what must have been the source of a thermal water source. The healer began searching a small chest for the ingredients required by the ritual. In the rush she tripped, almost falling into the chest and tearing the back of her robe, something she didn't notice.\n\"The ritual must take place into the water...\" She walked back to her, holding several plants and vials. \"Being a cleansing procedure I...\" She looked away, her blush fairly evident.\n\"... No armor nor clothing...\"\nShe muttered as she lowered her voice and her head at the same time.\n\nStern had been walking for several minutes when he froze in place. His nose had perceived a scent which was fairly new to the area: incense.\nHe growled and gripped firmly on his spear. The scent was faint, yet persistent. As he walked slowly, he could see some torchlight at the end of the tunnel, then the smell of sweat and wool...\nHe gritted his teeth and hugged the wall of the tunnel, following the shadows to get closer to the source of the scent. \nLike a predator on the prawl, Stern could sense his prey near..."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nShe held onto his shoulder as she looked down to him and whispered.\n\"Wh-\"\n\nShe noticed the light and shut up. She held her axe close and was ready to hop off and help Stern fight if she needed to. She swallowed her fear and shut her eyes, before slowly opening them as they approached."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nStern took a moment to pat her head, nodding to her. \nAs they got closer, the hunter could distinguish two figures standing by the entrance of a tunnel. They were wearing dark blue hoods and were armed with swords. \nThe paladin looked at Miriam and tapped on her axe, his way to ask permission to use it. He would have definitely had the advantage of darkness. What he couldn't help but notice was the similarities those men shared with the cultists he had killed years before. An old hatred began pumping through his veins."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth smirked a little, seeing Valeria blush, and followed her quietly toward the room. She watched in amusement as the woman hurried around them room, and as she approached she listened. \n\nThe knight shook her head, \"I do not think I will be undressing in these Caverns, Valeria. You will have to wait, you may cleanse me once we have left this place with my daughter.\" She murmured, the distrust returning to her eyes. She was in a combat zone, her military instincts were telling her that removing her armor was a very poor tactical choice. This creature could fool with the mind, how could she be sure this was even real?"
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nShe looked to the figures at the tunnel, and then turned her attention to Stern. She wanted to help him fight, but sighed as she obliged and handed the axe over, reluctantly. She held her knees in her hands as she watched the tunnel's entrance with anticipation and fear."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nStern nodded to thank the child and took a deep breath. \n\nOne of the men turned slightly to his left as his attention shifted to a glimmer of light in the dark.\n\n \"Alexios ther—\"\n\nThe sound of flesh and bone being torn and split by cold steel echoed through the tunnel. Seconds later the thud of the body startled the second guard, who had a fraction of second to realize that a spear was stuck in his chest. A second thud. \n\nStern growled as his red eyes emitted a faint glow for both the darkvision and the bloodlust being satisfied. \nThe paladin reached the bodies and cleaned the weapons, handing the axe to the child. The torch lit tunnel in front of them was going upwards.\nHe could hear a choir chanting, a sound that made his hatred towards heretics and the murderers of his clan burn like magma in his veins. \"We must move, Miriam.\" He growled at her.\n\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nValeria shook her head \"You cannot fight it when it can still play with your mind... I beg you, let me purify your mind... If you won't be rid of its influence you'll die!\" There was truth in her words, truth worth being afraid of. The young woman bowed her head. \"I've been locked in here for three days... I need someone able to kill that creature and that person must be purified.\" She sobbed. \"I'll be in the water with you if that will make you trust me...\"\nThe tone of plea and sadness were of incredible intensity..."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nShe took her axe back, and nodded to Stern.\n\"Can I help you fight?\"\nShe asked as she hopped off his shoulder and looked up to him. \n\n\"I promise I can do better than I did by the fire.\"\nShe whispered up as she glanced forward, further into the tunnel."
}
] | 111 | 4,699 |
194.533333 | 2019-05-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nCaverns of gorangrad\n\nTanyth gazed at the woman, eyes searching for any proof this was false... That it wasn't real. But she could see nothing, and this woman was in need of help. \n\nCrying women always made her weak, her gauntlets hit the floor with a thud followed by her chest piece, which appeared to be little more than the front half of a cuirass strapped to a leather harness. \n\nSlowly she removed her armor, then her clothes. Finally she was ready for the ritual, she was strikingly beautiful in the torch light. Her olive skin was stretched over firm muscle that was protected by a layer of fat that gave her a little chub in her belly but beautifully accented her wide hips and ample bosom. \"Well, Valeria, you certainly make a convincing case.\" She said sweetly as she stepped past the woman and into the water, from behind Valeria would be able to see the physical proof of Tanyth's suffering. \n\nThe back of her thighs, her firm rump and back were covered in scars from whippings. They were heaviest on her back, where it looked as if there was no skin that was not scar tissue, the sloppy scars on her rump and legs were a testament to her former Masters' laziness and were far fewer. She stood in the middle of the pool and turned to face Valeria, waiting for whatever came next."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nValeria appeared relieved as she saw Tanyth prepare herself. The healer attempted to keep her gaze away from the mercenary, failing miserably. \nShe was still blushing when she began to prepare the ritual, setting candles and herbs around the edges of the natural pool.\n\nShe began chanting in an ancient tongue, walking into the whater slowly, she hesitated before resting her hand on Tanyth's chest.\n\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\n \n\nStern shook his head \"No more killing, not by your hand.\" He growled as he followed the tunnel.\nHe froze in place once again as he looked into the much bigger room.\n\nA temple carved into the cave and lit by green light was hosting at least thirty hooded figures. On an altar on the other side of the temple was resting a naked body. It was too far for Stern to define who it was, but he was certain that it was a woman. \nNext to the stone altar was standing a figure, chanting in an ancient tongue vaguely similar to the language of Stern's tribe. All the attention of the people in the hall was on the altar, an opportunity Stern took to move quietly to the side, getting closer, still hidden by boulders."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns,of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth stood quietly, watching Valeria with a small smile. \"You are so shy... It's quite cute,\" She mused as she watched and waited for something to happen... To feel something. \n\nWeren't you supposed to feel something during a cleansing? The presence of a god... Right? She was a little worried that maybe this wouldn't work, due to her lack of belief. She'd hate to disappoint the poor darling."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nValeria looked away \"Y... You're just... It's hard to concentrate...\".\nShe straightened her back, guiding Tanyth's hand on her heart, creating a link.\nWarmth began to emanate from the healer's hand, flowing through the body of the mercenary.\n\n\" Ver molos faerah mirni\"\n\nShe then kept repeating the phrase into a chant as her hand began to glow of a green light."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nHer skin was soft, smooth to the touch, Tanyth was a little jealous of her. The mercenary's own skin was rough and scarred, her hands calloused and hard. \n\nThe words were lost on her, though the felt familiar... Something in her recognized them in some way or another. The green light made her feel a sudden burst of distrust and suspicion... But she pushed it away. She couldn't keep acting like this, she would never have allies if she kept everyone at arms length."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nMirian pouted and stomped her foot lightly, but followed close behind him. She couldn't see the naked woman, but she could see all of the hooded figures, and she could hear the chanting. She continued to stick close to Stern to make sure she didn't get them caught."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nValeria's lips perked into a smile as the warmth emitted by her hand turned into a sharp, stinging cold. The embrace Tanyth was turned into the cold bindings of chains on her naked skin.\n\nThe chanting grew more intense as darkness began to engulf the mercenary and the healer.\n\nThen...\n\nStern roared in anger as he recognized the woman on the altar as Tanyth. The greenskin dashed between the now confused cultists, elbowing and punching in a burst of unstoppable anger. The figure near the altar paced backwards before being hit by a dagger tossed by the paladin. The hood revealed an old woman, very few hair on her head and a nose similar to an eagle's beak.\n\nAs the commotion increased, the hunter had managed to climb where the altar was and was now keeping the cultists away with rapid thrusts of his spear. \n\n\"FACE ME, YOU BLASPHEMOUS WORSHIPPERS OF EMPTY IDOLS, FOR I HAVE COME TO BRING THE RIGHTEOUS ANGER OF MAE AND REN UPON YOU ALL\"\n\nThe darkness around the mercenary faded to dust as the powerful voice of the paladin woke her up. She was tied to a stone altar, the mark of a black hand was burnt on her chest. \n\nAs for Mirian, she was safely hidden behind the rock formations of the cavern."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nAs she came to Tanyth began to laugh, \"I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew that shit was too good to be real!\" Her laugh became almost maniacal as she strained against the bindings. \"Where's Mirian?! Where is my child!?\" She roared as she struggled, trying with all her might to break her bonds so she could set upon the cultists.\n\nHer dark brown eyes searched the torch-lit cavern for Mirian and for her equipment... But all she could see were cultists and Stern's back. She didn't care that she was naked, shame was something she'd never had, all she cared about at present was ripping through the cultists."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nShe peaked out from behind the rock, spotting Tanyth and the Cultists.\n\"Oh-\"\nShe said to herself, her cheeks growing deep crimson as she saw Tanyth. It was, after all, her first time seeing something of that nature. She peeked back up and looked at the Cultists, studying their positions and their focus on Stern. She popped out from behind the rock and in one quiet and swift move, hopped up and buried her axe into one of the Cultist's neck. She struggled to rip it out, but did, and ran up to Stern to watch his back side.\n\"I'm sorry-!\"\nShe squeaked out, her cheek splattered with the Cultist's blood."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, caverns of Gorangrad\n\nThe hunter snarled at the child, kicking one of the men from the altar onto the others and snatched the axe off the girl's hands. An arrow reached his back, hitting behind his shoulder. The paladin's crimson eyes went on Tanyth as he cut of the bindings and rested his spear on her chest. \n\n**\"Stay with Tanyth, child\"**\n\nA growl of animalistic fury followed the order as Stern ripped his robes off himself, trew them at Tanyth and leaped into the cultists. \nNo longer bound to protect he let go of his self imposed calm, revealing his true nature.\nThe blade of the axe was a mere addition to the already dangerous warrior.\nLimbs and heads were laying in a pool of blood as the screams of fear echoed throuout the temple.\n\n**\"Vor lokosh mazadd fehod Mogaradd!!\"**\n\nThe warcry of the paladin sent shivers through the spines of both cultists and allies."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth laughed heartily as Mirian scampered over to them, \"My little one! Oh, you are safe, sweet child.\" She flung off her bonds the moment they were cut and quickly tied the torn robes around herself to hide her nudity, she took up his spear and knelt down beside Mirian.\n\nShe kissed the child gently on the forehead, \"I'm so happy to see you, Mirian.\" She whispered before flipping the spear around and putting it's silver point through a cultist's chest just as he raised his sgortsword to strike her down. She picked up the cultist' shortsword and pressed it into Mirian's hands, \"Kill only in self defense... And not around stern, he wants badly for you to be a child. But I will teach you to fight, do not worry.\" She gave her one more forehead kiss before she spun around, bringing the spear around her shoulders to the other hand in one fluid motion so she could use the force gathered to slash the throats of three more cultists. \n\nThe paladin's war cry made her grin, oh how she loved a proper rage-fueled blood bath. Tanyth gripped the spear in one hand, her movements as graceful at at dancer as she twirled, thrusting atsnd slashing with the spear equally. \n\nShe caught one man in the chin with the pommel of the spear and, as he was reeling back she drove the spear head through his chin and out the top of his head.\n\nShe had yet to stray more than twenty feet away from Mirian, clearly intent to protect the child she'd become attached to."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian gave a big hearty grin as Tanyth sprung up and gave her a kiss on the head. She took the shortsword and nodded.\n\"Only in self defense.\"\nShe repeated back to herself. She held the sword just as she would the axe, as she had no experience with any weapon but the axe. She let out an adorable war cry as a Cultist approached her, and got his hand cut off as he lunged to attack her. She hopped up and grabbed the Cultist by his robe and thrusted the sword through his neck."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Caverns of Gorangrad\n\nThe greenskin was unstoppable, cleaving flesh all around him, each injury the cultist were able to inflict had no effect on him as his affinity to rage was a bond much greater than a human's attachment to faith or a purpose. Stern's true self was a warmonger, a brawler... A creature of destruction. A weapon the Order was too afraid to leave alone for too long.\n\nAs the last man fell, the hunter's crimson eyes locked onto the mercenary and the child. His first instinct was to leap forward and harm them, yet the more he looked at the child, the quicker his rage faded, leaving just exhaustion and the pain derived from the injuries, none of wich had been too severe. \nBodies were laying all around him. Stern groaned in pain as he began to stumble towards Tanyth and Mirian. \n\nHe was visibly tired, having mutilated and fought nearly twenty men on his own. As he checked that the two weren't injuried he looked around and, after locating the effigy of the god the cultists worshipped, he pushed it so it could fall and shatter on the ground. His body looked like bronze under the dim light of the torches.\n\n\"We must leave this place at once.\"\nHe looked back at Tanyth, focusing on the black mark on her chest. He growled to himself. \"We will have to talk.\"\n\nHe then headed towards the only other exit, which was composed by a stairway carved inti the rock and dirt of the cave. He could see natural light at the end of the stairs."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Caverns of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian wiped the Cultist's blood off the blade and turned to Stern. Her beautiful copper-coloured eyes were off-set by the blood splattered across her face, and the blade in her hand. She grabbed on to Tanyth's hand and watched Stern."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, \nCaverns of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth had been having a ball, really, only fifteen or so lay dead around her and she was leaning against the spear quietly watching Mirian when Stern knocked over the statue and approached. \"I'm so proud,\" She said with a little smile before turning her head to look at Stern. \"You notice that hand print to?\" She said in reference to where his gaze drifted, it worried her but not terribly so. It likely had something to do with magic and Stern almost certainly had a way of doing away with it. \"Mirian, child, let's go. Stern is gonna get us out of here... Hopefully we find my stuff along the way.\" She mused, she gently squeezed Mirian's hand, \"I'm proud of you darling, you handled the blade well. I think it's far better sized for you than that big axe.\" Her tone eld excitement and pride as she walked after Stern, holding Mirian's hand.\n\nToday was a productive day, they destroyed a cult and Tanyth had apparently adopted a daughter who showed a great deal of potential as a warrior."
}
] | 160 | 2,918 |
213.4 | 2019-05-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Village of Gorangrad\n\nThe return of the green giant was definitely an event the townsfolk of Gorangrad welcomed with mixed feelings, especially when the monster was accompanied by a semi-naked woman and a child who was carrying an axe. Little questions were asked and a two rooms were arranged for the \"Saviours\" Of the village. \nStern sent a messenger back to the Bulwark with the intel regarding the Coven of Shadows, taking a couple of days to heal his wounds and purify the marks of dark magic on Tanyth and Mirian's bodies. \n\nNo payment was asked by the paladin, following his doctrine.\nStern would have departed in a day to return to the Bulwark. He was preparing his cart near the shoddy and humble tavern where he had been resting."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nVillage of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth was irritated, the cultists had tossed her armor into a pile and caused it to be dented and scratched to every one of the nine hells and then back again.\n\nThe straps were all broken from the rough treatment as well, but thankfully the village blacksmith was able to repair her armor in full as payment for removing the cult from the area. She was going to be heading to Taemar, but she couldn't take Mirian on this quest... Not yet. She stared at stern's cart, just as she had when first she'd come to the village. She went to him, now as a friend rather than a stranger. \"Stern, I need to talk to you about Mirian.\" She began calmly, *'where is that girl anyway?'* She wondered, she didn't want to leave without telling Mirian goodbye and why she couldn't come."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Village of Gorangrad\n\nThe paladin had been loading his cart with supplies for his travel. He was wearing new robes, yet he wasn't wearing his hood. He looked behind his shoulder as he heard Tanyth speak. \"What is it, mercenary? If it is about your chest, I did not mean to touch you roughly... Leave the wound time to heal.\" He returned to tie the cargo with thick ropes. \nThe procedure Stern had to follow to purify Tanyth involved fire and he was very sorry for cautherizing her skin, hating to harm the people he respected. \nWhen he heard the question he turned to face the mercenary \"About Mirian?\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Village of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian was in a chicken coop, chasing and terrorizing the chickens inside. She ran after them with her arms out, quietly giggling to herself as she tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. \n\"Come here chickens!\"\nShe pushed herself back up and continued to chase the chickens about the coop."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven \nForest of Gorangrad\n\n\"My chest is fine, I've had worse,\" Tanyth said with a laugh. The new scar on her chest still felt tender, \"I can't take Mirian with me... Not to do the things I must do. It would be dangerous for her, in body and soul, if she is willing I'd like her to go with you. She won't be a burden,\" Tanyth had been training the young girl for the past few days using both swords, and her trademark axe. She'd come a long way, but there was more to fighting that knowing *How* To kill... It was far more important to know *When* To kill. \"She's become quite good with her short sword and axe... She can definitely defend herself much better now.\" She looked... Desperate, an odd expression for the Mercenary's beautiful face. \n\n\"The things I'm going to do... The danger of it all... I can't expose my child to that sort of thing. You and the White roses are safest... I've no one else,\" She looked Stern in the eye as she spoke... Vulnerable and pleading. She was going to do unspeakable things in the name of revenge, and did not wish for the girl she called her daughter to see it. Though as they stood talking, a villager approached, \"'Ey! You're that little red head's mama aren't ya?\" Tanyth shot the man a dangerous look and nodded, he shuddered a little and pointed off toward the chicken coop. \"She been chasin' my chickens for the past hour! They'll die of fear a'fore they can lay again!\"\n\n\"I'll get her in a moment,\" *So that's where she is.* Tanyth said with a relieved sigh. At least she hadn't run away."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Village of Gorangrad.\n\nThe paladin folded his muscular arms over his chest, sighing deeply. \"The life of a Kodrakesh does not suit you, woman. Stay with the child. My Order is no place for a child.\" He shook his head. He had never seen Tanyth beg and that sight made him feel responsible, yet he knew how Mirian wouldn't have been accepted into the walls of the Bulwark, not to mention the rough training the Roses would have made her endure. \"You cannot abandon her and think she will understand. She needs you more than she needs the cold walls of our castle.\" The greenskin stepped forward and restes his gargantuan hand on the mercenary's cheek. \"This is what I spoke about back in the cave... You must give up hatred and choose love... This child can help you.\" The deep voice of the hunter was much more gentle as he caressed her cheek with his thumb."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nVillage of gorangrad\n\nTanyth frowned at him and pulled away, shaking her head, \"I don't even know what a kodrakesh is... Regardless... If you will not take her then,\" She sighed in frustration, \"She will just have to come with me. I'll let her explore the city, and give her a curfew, at least she will be safe.\" She looked toward the chicken coop and hung her head, \"She looks up to you too, Stern. Do as your order commands then, goodbye my friend.\" She said finally before walking away.\n\nShe made her way to the chicken coops and knocked on the side of one, \"Mirian, sweetheart, leave the chickens be. It's time for us to go.\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Village of Gorangrad\n\nStern looked at the woman walk away with a bittersweet smile forming on his lips. A step in the right direction... Even if painful. After all Tanyth and Mirian had been one of the few people the greenskin actually cared for. \nIn his heart he felt a warmth slowly alleviating his grief. \n\"Safe Travels, Tanyth Carven... May we meet again and smile together.\" Stern then pulled the hood back on his head, not looking back anymore. \nOnce he sat at the reins of his cart he emitted a click with his tongue, giving the horse a little nudge with the reins, departing from the village and leaving Gorangrad behind his shoulders.\nThe sky was clear and the cold of winter had faded into the warmth of the northern spring.\n\nThe greenskin smiled to himself, something he had not done for a very long time..."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Village of Gorangrad.\n\nMirian popped her head up and looked to Tanyth, and then spotted Stern.\n\"Where's... Where's he going?\"\nShe asked her softly. She got out of the chicken coop and grabbed Tanyth's hand.\n\"Is he leaving us..?\"\nShe asked quietly."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, The Bulwark\n\nThe winds of the Witherlands greeted Stern as harshly as they could, making the impervious road to the Bulwark even worse.\n\nThe paladin was definitely relieved to see the silouette of the fortress. He could almost taste the stale cabbage soup and cheese Brother Falesian made and he definitely missed Orgun. \n\nThe sound of a horn let him know how the guards at the gate noticed his presence, so he gave the horse a small pat, hinting to go faster. \nThe gates opened slowly as a few guards waved at him. He waved back before hopping of the cart and guiding the horse to the stables. The green giant found himself relieved as he felt a somehow familiar pair of eyes looking at him. As he turned his back, a waddling brown tail welcomed him. \n\nOrgun had grown up quickly, being now bigger than most wolves. Stern chuckled \"Orgun mael vetekk!\" He caressed the fur of the animal who was trotting all around him, sometimes getting up on two paws to get more caresses from his long missed owner.\n\nStern handed the Warg a big piece of dried meat and raised his gaze towards the entrance of the stables to find Vigi on the doorstep. \n\n\"Welcome back, Stern.\"\n\nStern nodded \"Thank you, Brother Ostiary Vigi...\"\n\nThe central hall of the Bulwark resonated with the heavy steps of armored knights and the quick ones of their squires. After the arrival of the message from Gorangrad, the Inquisitors of the Order had been making preparations to seize other possible splinters of the Coven of Shadows in the area.\n\nVigi was pacing slowly alongside Stern. \"Your discovery is something we needed, I am sorry you were alone in this quest...\"\nStern interrupted the Petal \n\"A mercenary aided me... Tanyth Carven...\"\nVigi nodded, caressing his own beard \"Yes... You wrote it in your message... Anyway, you have made the Council proud of you, therefore we will grant you some time to rest before the next mission... Is there anything you would like to do now that you are back?\"\n\nStern looked at Orgun, which was following him diligently. \"You speak like you have something for me to do...\"\n\nVigi chuckled \"That would be against the rules that bind me to my position, Logarsh...\" Vigi stopped as two paladins passed by them. \" Yet I believe that you would be interested in something known as the Stone Thorn of Baeras...\""
}
] | 180 | 2,134 |
186.333333 | 2019-05-04 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "The greenskin tilted his head to a side, interested on what the Ostiary had to say. Vigi had always been ready to help him and almost all of the knowledge Stern had derived from the teachings of the old man. He didn't know why Vigi cared for him in such a manner, yet his heart told him that he could trust him.\n\n\"Baeras... Wasn't it the Rune Carver?\"\n\nVigi nodded, a proud smile forming on his lips as his student displayed impressive memory. \"Indeed, Stern! I see you have kept reading the tomes I gave you.\"\n\nStern nodded.\n\n\"You see, Stern... Baeras was known as a giant among men, a valiant Thorn feared and respected by friends and foes... Tragically fallen on holy duty and ascended to the heavens. However, something of him remains here in Marin, a thing most powerful remains untouched beneath Mount SharpTooth... You appear to be a fitting heir to such power and the Order would be very happy to see a young knight who instead of resting, begins a quest to find a lost artifact...\"\n\nStern couldn't understand the tone of the Ostiary, being used to a more direct approach free of subtle meanings or schemes.\n\n\"Brother Ostiary Vigi, you confuse me... But if I am the only one able to help the Order... I will depart for mount SharpTooth in two days.\"\n\nVigi nodded, bowing slightly. Stern did the same before heading to his room. \n\nIt appeared that a new challenge awaited the paladin..."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven,\nVillage of Gorangrad\n\nTanyth sighed and looked toward the departing greenskin, \"He's got his duties. We have ours.\" She smiled and kissed Mirian's forehead, \"We will see him again. Come on, we've a long way to go.\" With that she began to lead her child away down the road to Taemar... The road of violence and revenge. But she would hide it all from Mirian, keep it secret and silent while she did her best to raise her to be a good and kind woman. \n\nMaybe this was a good thing, maybe she'd find lasting happiness in motherhood. She couldn't say, but she would try all the same."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Village of Gorangrad\n\nMirian nodded. She didn't quite understand what was happening, but she was glad Tanyth wasn't ditching her. She held the hand that belonged to who she considered her new mother, and travelled along with her. She didn't know what this new life would entail, but she figured it would be alright as long as she had Tanyth. \n \n`Scene Finish`"
}
] | 149 | 559 |
290.5 | 2019-05-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "7 YEARS AGO\nWendy Margir\nTraining Ground, The Witherlands\n\n\"Top of your class, Wendy. Can't say I'm surprised.\"\n\nThe red-haired young woman smiled, looking out at the festivities in the courtyard below. The other soldiers who'd graduated from their class were gathered there, drinking to jovial music and dancing unburdened by the weight of their plates of armor. She, too, decided to forego the formal armor tonight, wearing a simple maroon dress. Her cloak was warm enough to keep out the chilled breeze, but also thin enough to allow her to actually look like a woman for once, instead of a chap who hadn't quite gone through puberty yet.\n\nShe even had her hair down, pushing a lock of it behind her ear as she turned to the man who'd given her the compliment.\n\nHe was a supervising officer, but a helpful mentor to all of them. To her, especially. She'd gotten roughed up rather badly during her first spar, and he'd helped her heal up rather well.\n\n\"You've got skill, kid,\" He had said to her while she laid in her cot, her forearm laid across her forehead. \"But you're too headstrong. If you want to win a battle, use your mind, not your sword. Next time, assess your opponent. Then, you won't lose.\"\n\nEver since then, she'd heeded his advice, training with him in the middle of the night to get stronger. Skin bruised and muscles tight, she'd do whatever she could to excel—not just physically, but also in her tactical skills. \n\nTo her, he was the reason why she'd survived the brutal winter of training. Despite her status as the daughter of House Margir, her being a woman didn't jive well with the other young men seeking the same thing she was. She didn't like to lose. And they didn't, either. Especially, to a woman.\n\nWendy felt her cheeks warm, and she turned her head towards the celebrating bunch in the courtyard, again. \n\n\"I appreciate that, sir,\" She said.\n\n\"Claudius is fine,\" He said, placing a hand on her forearm. \n\nWendy blinked, turning her chin just slightly. The two met eyes for a few brief moments, but sensing the tension of the moment, he removed his hand and placed his hands firmly on the balcony instead.\n\n\"You aren't going to drink tonight?\" Claudius said, doing his best to change the subject.\n\n\"No. I... Don't care for the way rum makes me feel,\" Wendy said, watching disdainfully at the men below becoming even more and more brash and foolish. \"Or what it brings out of people.\"\n\n\"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go down there and have some fun,\" Claudius said, chuckling a little.\n\n\"I'm having a great time here, thank you. Besides, I'd probably just kill the mood.\" Wendy shrugged slightly, wringing her fingers around her wrist.\n\nClaudius noticed her nervous quirk. He smiled and grabbed her wrist instead, pulling her close and beginning to turn to the pace of the music.\n\n\"Sir, what are you—!\"\n\n\"Having fun! You should at least _try_ it,\" Claudius said, smiling as he guided her through a simple court dance, one Wendy was familiar with from her grooming at a young age.\n\nHer cheeks were blazing red now, but she didn't object, allowing herself the moment. He was holding her hand, and his other... \n\nWendy almost couldn't think of it. So, she decided not to, smiling to herself as they danced.\n\nFrom below, though, someone watched who had different intentions, entirely."
},
{
"author": "lordmarkul",
"message": "James Fiyero\nGrand Stead, The Witherlands\n\nJames pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders and scowled at the chill wind. In a mocking voice, he said, \"'Go out for the family. Travel the world. Experience new things.' Yes, father, and I'll freeze my toes off in the north while I'm at it, too.\" He stumbled through the streets of the city, not exactly certain where he was going, but having the general idea that he could find his way back to his inn and his warm room when he needed to. For now, he was wondering what excitement he might find in the city. He had only arrived the previous day, and though he was starting to realize that the north might not be for him, he was interested in experiencing what it had to offer while he could. \n\"Just an interesting person... Maybe they want to buy a sapphire?\" James fiddled with the precious stone in his cloak pocket, wondering what tricks and illusions he might pull with it to further entice someone into buying it. Maybe he could even convince these people that the stones were magic with his illusions. He might come off a fair bit richer than even his father expected him too, if he could pull that off. For now, though, he simply kept his eyes peeled and wandered the streets of Grand Stead, thoroughly frozen."
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Grand Stead.\n\nA scream of terror broke the natural silence of the cold city streets as some of the townsfolk ran past the southerner, running from something behind him.\n\nSlow and heavy paces made the ground shake slightly, accompanied by the sound of paws on the road.\n\nStern was used to such welcoming behaviour... Luckilly the robes he was wearing allowed him to avoid the anger of soldiers... But not their fear.\nAfter all the garments of the Order of the White Rose couldn't hide his inhuman features...\n\nThe green giant kept walking, looking for the temple of Mae and Ren in order to receive housing. The dire wolf trotting by his side seemed fairly confident with the environment... Something difficult to believe..."
},
{
"author": "lordmarkul",
"message": "James Fiyero, Grand Stead\n\nThe man heard the screams and, unlike those around him, began to move toward them. He'd never been a wise one, at least according to his parents, but James always found a way to adventure. Following screams seemed like a good start. \n\nHe came around a corner and saw the focus of the terror, a massive man—man?—tromping along the street with a massive wolf at his side. James doubted his initial examination, as the skin and features of the humanoid were not quite human. He'd never seen anything like it; however, the person wore the clothing of a paladin, the Order of the White Rose. How bad could the guy be? And hadn't James just been asking for someone interesting?\n\nJames bounded up beside him, easily falling into step so they walked together on the street. (Though, James did have to pump his legs rather quickly to keep up with the giant.) He introduced himself, \"James Fiyero, with the Fiyero Mercantile Company. How goes it, paladin?\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, city of Grand Stead\n\nThe greenskin eyed the man, trying to understand the reasons behind such an open behaviour. His dark brown eyes returned to the road ahead \"I do not enjoy the company of merchants, Fiyero...\" His voice resembled the snarl of a beast. \"I am Stern Logarsh, Thorn of the White Roses... Speak quickly for I have little time to spare.\"\n\nThe hunter could distinguish the humble architecture of the temple among the wooden houses of the town. His steps were slow, yet far bigger than common folk. It was obvious that the paladin was trying not to disrespect his interloper, following the rules of his Order."
},
{
"author": "lordmarkul",
"message": "James Fiyero, Grand Stead\n\nJames smirked slightly at such dismissive behavior. Most people would engage with him, at least a little. The fact that this person would so quickly turn him away struck him as interesting. He figured it might be difficult, but he wanted to stick around the paladin a little longer, just to learn more about him. \nThe man smiled and showed no distress from the threatening tone of the other. He said, \"The Thorn of the White Roses, huh? And with little time to spare? What drives you so urgently? Perhaps...\" James wondered about his future for a moment. He wasn't very interested in expanding the Fiyero Mercantile company to such a faraway place as Grand Stead, especially if that landed him here permanently. But, such an interesting person as this promised him some excitement and an escape from his responsibilities... \"Perhaps I could assist?\""
}
] | 204 | 1,743 |
131.5 | 2019-05-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, Grand Stead\n\nLaughter roared like thunder as the giant in white robes looked at his interloper in disbelief. \"My Order hunts things too dangerous for a merchant as yourself... Following me to my destination is going to put your life at risk.\" He sighed \"You may not understand, but there is something ancient and perilous dwelling in the mountain I am heading to.\"\n\nStern caressed his beard as her reached the doors of the temple. \"Mount Sharptooth is not a place for commoners...\""
},
{
"author": "lordmarkul",
"message": "James Fiyero, Grand Stead\n\nJames jumped back slightly at the uproarious laughter from the other man. He took a second to compose himself, drawing his robes around his body, and stood up a little straighter as they walked along. As straight as he stood, however, that did not bring him near to the giant's height. They approached their destination—some temple?—and the merchant knew he would have to make some play soon if he were to accompany Stern. \n\"I am no commoner. I was raised by a noble family, trained mostly in the mercantile arts, but I can hold my own.\" In an attempt to prove his statement, James pulled one of the daggers from his belt and began to twirl it dexterously around his fingers. Truth be told, he had only ever been in one non-serious fight, and he hardly knew how to use the weapon, but he could put on an impressive display. With a flick of his wrist, James sent the dagger spinning forward to impale itself into the doors of the temple. \"See?\""
},
{
"author": "skeletor0511",
"message": "Stern Logarsh, city of Grand Stead\n\nStern's eyes darted to the dagger as he immediately deflected it with his gauntlets. He growled in anger as he glared at the merchant \"How dare you attempt to vandalize such a holy place!?\" He snarled. \n\"Do not attempt such things in my presence ever again or I shall give the inquisitors a new toy to play with, is that clear?\""
},
{
"author": "lordmarkul",
"message": "James Fiyero, Grand Stead\n\nJames averted his gaze and grinned sheepishly. _Gods above, I am stupid sometimes,_ he thought to himself, quickly moving to retrieve his dagger. To Stern, he said, \"Message received. Never again shall I attempt something so stupid.\" The man had decided to try a different approach, so he straightened his tone and posture to be totally serious and contrite. He asked, \"What is it that you're searching for?\""
}
] | 105 | 526 |
188 | 2019-07-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven\nGrand Stead\n\nTanyth sighed softly as she set her pack down in the small tavern room she'd rented for herself and Mirian. \"Alright, child, I know you're tired and cold so I won't ask you to come with me tonight.\" She was disappointed there was only one bed, poor Mirian would have to share with her giant of an adoptive mother, \"But nor will I stop you if you wish to come with me while I look for leads.\" Over the past few months Mirian had come to understand what Tanyth was doing, who she was hunting and why... Though the young teen had been spared the graphic details. *'Is this right? Taking her with me on my hunt,* The doubting voice nagged at her, *'is this the example I want to be? Am I encouraging her to become the monster I was forced to be?'* She looked down at the girl and swallowed, twenty three years of hatred and rage and she was doubting herself because of a little girl she found in the woods."
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Grand Stead\n\nMirian walked into the room, and looked up at her mother-figure. \"I'm not tired, mo- Tanyth.\" She smiled, bouncing on her heels and holding her hands at her waist. \n\nMirian wanted to be exactly like Tanyth. She looked up to her greatly, both as a role model, and... Literally. \n\n\"I'm ready when you are.\" She continued to smile. Mirian would follow her to the ends of the Earth if Tanyth would let her, and that would be pretty obvious to Tanyth. This girl was insanely loyal to her."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven\nGrand stead\n\nTanyth smiled adoringly, and ran a hand through the girl's hair, \"As you wish,\" She left her pack and took only her sword and daughter into the cold evening of Grand Stead. She gripped Mirian's hand in hers as she walked, she was fiercely protective of her little one.\n\n\"Mirian... You know what I am doing is justified, that it is revenge. You must never kill for no reason, and the reason *Must* Be good.\" She wanted desperately to find some compromise, to justify the murders she commited while teaching Mirian it isn't right to murder needlessly. But was there need to find and murder these men, even with what they'd done a few had moved on. The one they hunted now was a priest... Which was going to be hard to jusitfy to the people. \"We've gotta find the Lord... I can't simply kill this one.\" Shr explained as thry headed toward the keep."
}
] | 209 | 564 |
137.25 | 2019-07-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Grand Stead\n\nShe smiled as she felt her mother's hand flow through her hair. She grabbed her hand and walked with her, never straying a single inch from her. \n\n\"I know, mother...\" She leaned her head against her arm. \"You're getting rid of evil, evil men... And that's it.\" She huffed. \"Why not, mother? Why can't you kill him?\" She questioned as she looked up to her. She thought she meant she was physically unable to kill him, that she was saying she wasn't strong enough to kill him. She knew that wasn't true. Tanyth was a superhero in Mirian's eyes. No, she was more than a superhero."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Grand Stead\n\n\"He is a Priest. If I kill him without the consent of the local lord I could be put to death. As such, we must see if anyone at the keep can get me an audience with the King or Lord.\" She explained simply, managing to contain the giddiness that always came when Mirian called her by a maternal title. She was loving this whole mother thing; the adoration, the titles, the way Mirian curled into her when they settled in to sleep. \n\nShe loved it all, a beacon of light amid the darkness of her life. \"Perhaps they will understand what I need and why, perhaps there is another way. I cannot say with certainty, Mirian, perhaps he no longer deserves death... Despite what he did.\""
},
{
"author": "redd6980",
"message": "Mirian Trunth, Grand Stead\n\n\"But... He hurt you, didn't he? He deserves worse than death for doing that...\" She mumbled the last bit. She loved Tanyth, and would gladly put herself in danger's way for her. Even though she knew Tanyth wouldn't want her to. \n\n\"Well, I'm sure it will work out anyhow... Whether you decide to kill him or not.\" She gripped her mother's hand a bit tighter, trying to comfort her a bit."
},
{
"author": "lesbiqueen",
"message": "Tanyth Carven, Grand Stead\n\n\"He... Yes he hurt me badly, many many times. But we've got to do it right or they'll take everything from us.\" She explained calmly as she stopped in front of the temple, she glared hatefully at it and gripped her hand a little tighter, \"I need to,\" She ran a hand into her short blonde hair eyes looking angry and confused, \"To... Oh damn it all,\" She pulled Mirian away and headed straoght for the City's keep; the lord of the hold could give her what she wanted... Likely for something in return."
}
] | 140 | 549 |
126.5 | 2019-08-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "His room had fallen silent. With the boy away, his study became a shadow, lacking a major component. However, on this cool evening, a few guards had ventured into his dingy room; they carelessly shuffled through the papers scattered throughout. Upon the discovery of a certain leather-bound book, they all huddled next to one another to read the curiosities within. After a few uninteresting accounts, they found a rather interesting page.\n*Fair weather, afternoon.\nIt is my birthday, I believe... For that is what father told me, when he arrived with a handful of guards. A gift, yes? To see my dearest father, he who humbles all before him. The feared Lord Skagerlly; so rightfully earned is such a title.\nHe came not with pleasantries, no, he brandished a whip and a penchant for violence. 'Outside, boy,' he said, stern as ever, 'you have failed me.'\nThey had made a mock crucifix within my garden, and upon it they strung me, virgin back exposed to the cruel weapon. He held a steady hand as he administered lashings, each briefly followed by a lesson. To scream was to learn another. And so, for hours I was hung, until my voice had been eaten by the crows and my back was nothing but a deluge of blood. Only then did they release me; I suppose his arms tired of whipping. Now, I lay, a broken boy with weeping skin.\nHappy birthday, Aleksandr.*"
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nThe stars were shinning bright in the pitch black sky, as the pale light of the full moon bathed the snow on top of the pine trees and the equally pale skin of the second Barrmount daughter. Her eyes could have been mistaken as two more small blue stars as she admired the view from her balcony. The freezing breeze left a tingling sensation on her skin everytime it embraced her, also making her dark brown hair flow with the wind. She took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the surrounding nature.\nShe was about to head back inside her room when she saw a strange shadow in the corner of her eye, down below her. \"Must be some wild little animal...\" She thought to herself as she entered her room."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James stared at the manor, it was his first time seeing one this big, he could at most only fill a pillar with all his stolen goods.\nHe pulled out his silver pocket watch.\n*Tick* *Tick* *Tick*\n\nJames listened to this, steadying himself.\n\"What wealth awaits me?\" He asked himself.\n\nHe wrapped leather around the pillar to the room, taking a step up the pillar, the grip of the leather on the pillar stopped him from falling.\n\nHe climbed up, his green eyes scanning the surroundings for guards, his black hand touched the ledge, pulling himself up over it, he was now able to rob the Nobles.\n\nHe got up, his wolf cloak fluttering in the wind, as well his hair, he took silent steps towards the inside."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nAnna was already in bed, cozy as she could be in her comfortable and warm bed. She was ready to let herself fall into a deep sleep when a slight noise caught her ear in the absolute silence of her room. She sleepily looked at the balcony, her heart suddenly pounding fast inside her chest when she saw the shadow; too big to be a bird, too big to be a squirrel, too big to be any kind of animal. It was a human.\nShe tried to remain calm as she controlled her breath as good as she could, not moving an inch of her body. What if they were here to kill her? Or to kill her siblings too? Fear was overwhelming, but she *Had* To do something!\nShe stayed as if she was still sleeping, her mind racing as she tried to think on what to do. Maybe the scissors on the small drawer nearby, or the hand chandelier that sat on top of it...\nShe mentally prepared herself as she waited to see the person's movements.\nHer hands tremble."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "The door opened, James walking in, he looked around the room.\nA bed, with someone in it, he decided they were dead to the world and started scanning for goods.\n\nHe raised and eyebrow, a draw and other artifacts could be of use to him.\nHe sneak to the draw, opening it without a sound.\n\"Scissors, letters and-\" James stopped his thinking, closing the draw he looked at the person in bed.\n\nTheir breathing was to irregular for someone asleep, they could possibly be having nightmares, in which case he was safe.\n\nHe looked at the person, they are to small to pose a threat but, still bigger then him, he decided to increase his guard.\n\nJames only found the candle holders of need, he took them, stuffing it in his new boar hide bag under his cloak.\n\nHe heard no noise outside the door, thus he went to open."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nThe young woman clenched her jaw as the unknown person got closer. He was stealing! Maybe she could let them go and she would be safe... But letting someone rob her and do nothing? She knew the look her sister would give her the next day. She was already feeling ashamed.\nMaybe it was time to grow up. \n\nShe quickly, but clumsily, opened the drawer and took the scissors, thanking the frozen gods the thief didn't take them. She had her eyes used to the dim light of the room, moonlight being the only light available at the moment; yet she could barely distinguish the face of the thief. He apparently was a male, but he looked way too young.\n\n\"G-give it back!\" Her voice, as well as her body, were obviously shaking, as much as she tried to hide it. She held the scissors in her right hand, gripping them tight."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James felt a burden on his chest when he heard that, they were awake.\n\n\"Oh shit\" He whispered, his black hand reaching into his cloak and to his daggers.\n\n\"I- I-\" James was suturing, more so then the other did, he was a coward, the slightest hint of blood filled him with dread, in addition she was much bigger then the fourteen year old, his body became tense.\n\nHe reached into his bag using his other hand, pulling out four candle holders out of five.\n\nHe tossed them on the bed, he backed away slowly, keeping his back to the person."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nDid they actually obey her? Her? The stuttering, trembling mess? Well it was true her family was known for being good fighters but she had never fought, not once. She felt a little bit more confident.\n\n\"Stop! I uh... I demand you to... To... To turn, yes, to turn!\" Anna was trying really hard to sound like her sister, as she was the most authoritarian person Anna knew \"W-who are you, thief?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James was scared to shit, he had never been thus close to being caught.\n\nHe turned around lowering his head, his eyes turning teary.\n\n\"Jam- James\" He replied shakily, his hands were trembling and he was beyond panic"
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nHer eyebrows furrowed as she slightly squinted her eyes in confusion. He sounded like a young boy... Maybe he was from the village? He sounded as scared as she did. Fear slowly abandoned her, only shivering then because of the freezing breeze that entered through the open balcony. The grip on the scissors loosened.\n\n\"Why did you come here to rob, James?\" Her voice was softer, closer to her usual voice.\n\nShe stood there, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He definitely was young, younger than her. He didn't look like a threat."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James breathing become heavy, sweat forming on his skin.\nThe wind from the outside world only made it worst.\n\nHer voice become softer, James now focused on her face, widening his eyes and breathing quicker.\n\nShe was much older then him.\n\n\"I- I- Manson\" He got out, he must have meant that it looked like it belonged to a Noble.\n\nHis body become less tense but, he was still on guard."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nAnna slowly put the scissors away, back in their place, before walking towards the closest wall, to light the candle hanging on it.\n\n\"Are you from the village?\" She asked as she lit the candle. Now she could clearly see him, and he was nothing but a young boy; 12, maybe 13 years old, or at least he looked that young. His black hand caught her attention, as she only had seen something similar caused by frostbite. She gasped \"Oh no! Your hand!\" \n\nShe slowly walked towards him, her face showing genuine worry. The poor boy could lose his hand, or so she thought."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James gulped, he was still terrified, like a boulder on his chest but, more so at her yell, that could alert others and he would soon be gone.\n\nHe did not feel like answering her question truthfully but, in the orphanage, liers were beat, he adopted the habit of never lying even though he knew he would not be beat if he lied here, just slaughtered.\n\n\"Y- yes\" He was still stuttering, he then looked at his hand.\nHe payed no heed to it as its been that way sinse before he could remember.\n\nThe worry from the girl made him worried."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nShe kept on slowly walking towards him. All the fear she had before had completely dissipated at this point.\n\n\"I'm Anna... If you promise you won't hurt me, I won't do it either. But you have to promise, okay?\" Her voice was back to her normal soft tone \"Frostbite has gotten you good huh?\" She observed, pointing at his hand. She put a strand of hair behind her left ear as her ice blue eyes focused on the black hand. The color was indeed that of a frostbitten hand, but the skin seemed to be in perfect condition. \n\nHe was just a boy, he must have been desperate if he came to steal to the manor. Her chest sunk a bit at the thought of what could have led him to do it."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James was not able to trust a stranger, he took a step back, putting his white hand into his cloak.\n\n\"N- no\" He stated, slowly backing away.\n\nHe looked her in the eyes, her blue eyes gave him a feeling of warmth but, he knew not to trust one's instincts all the time.\n\nHis black hand twitched, his eyes wider then ever, he was certain she was an enemy.\n\nHis fear was now higher then ever."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nThe young woman felt sorry for the boy. She adopted the same body expression she used when she tried to help injured animals deep into the pine forest. She held up her hands, showing she had nothing to hurt him with. \n\n\"It's okay James, I'm no threat I swear. Cross my heart\" She said as she drew a X over her chest, above the heart, with her left pinky \"Let me help you, please... If that is frostbite you could have serious health problems...\"\n\nHe was way too young to lose a hand; or if it got worse, die. What if that were her brother? She couldn't let the young boy go away without having that treated."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James stopped backing away, he was still unsure but, what if thus was frostbite, not that he knew what that was.\n\nHe looked at her expression, like helping a injured animal, it really made his blood boil.\n\nHe put out his hand but, kept one hand on the handle of a silver dagger, he still had no idea who she was."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nShe smiled warmly, as she carefully took his hand between her small, thin, soft ones. Anna examined the skin, being as gentle as possible.\n\n\"Looks like the skin is fine... You can feel the hand? Move it as usual?\" She asks as she keeps on observing the hand. Maybe it wasn't frostbite, maybe it was just a really big birthmark. She felt relieved by the thought."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James kept his other hand in his cloak but, he moved the fingers of his black hand that she was touching.\n\nHe had no idea what frostbite was but, it sounded bad.\n\"Y- yes it's fine\" He stuttered, he was still quite nervous around her, he was also quite nervous about the possibility that someone could came in at any moment.\n\nHe stayed alert."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nShe sighed.\n\n\"Oh thank the gods, then it must be a birthmark...\" Her smile made her dimples show.\n\nThe kid was fine, but he wouldn't be if Sibyl found out he tried to steal from the manor, or if someone caught him leaving. She thought and thought, until she got an idea.\n\n\"Where is your house? The village is merely a couple minutes away by horse, I can take you home. You have to leave, but the night is cold and wolves might be lurking so you won't be going alone\"\n\nAs she spoke, she went to the closet to search for her warmest coat."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James nodded, it was an unusual birthmark.\n\nHe looked around the room, walking silently to the fireplace and taking something, he had no idea what but, he was not gonna leave here with only one thing.\n\nHe was curious about her dimples, they looked like uncooked bread to him, he threw it off as 'she has no jaw teeth'.\n\nAs she was raiding the closet James saw this as an opportunity to leave but, she was right, wolves and other creatures could harm and possibly kill him.\n\n\"Won't they notice your gone?\" He asked, before turning his eyes to the door, a feeling of fear came back to him."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\n\"Most people are sleeping, don't worry...\" She explains as she takes the fur coat and hands it to him \"... Also, it's not the first time I have a night ride.\"\nShe notices he has moved and crosses her arms over her chest, lifting a brow as she looks at him.\n\n\"You better stop stealing, young man, you could get in trouble... Put whatever you took back.\" Her voice sounded more motherly than ever. \n\nShe shook her head as she went to her drawer, gabbing a small sack with coins she kept there. The young woman went back to the boy and offered him the sack.\n\n\"You can take this if you promise to stop stealing. Or at least be more careful\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James was shocked she noticed and even more shocked at her motherly side, it did not suit her, he only just met her yet he was sure she was the kind, caring older sister type.\n\nHe took the coins gladly and put the artifact he stole back on the fire place, he still had the candle holder.\n\n\"As you say\" He replied, he was a lot less tense then before.\n\nHe was still however, observing the door."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "\"Okay...\" She smiled again \"Now, where do you live? I'm sure your mother will be worried sick!\" \n\nShe went back to the closet to grab a coat for herself as she spoke. At this point, she knew the village by heart. Though it was strange, she had never seen this boy before. Was he lying about living here?"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James was not lying, just avoiding giving the exact location, he lived in a hole with his belongings but, seeing as he stole a artifact from an official, he is not going back.\n\n\"I left the village, I'm just getting away\" He said, not sure of her reaction."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nShe turned around. She was right then.\n\n\"You are alone, ain't you?\" There was certain sadness in her voice. \n\nNow everything made sense, why he didn't address her as Lady Anna like everyone at the village did, why she had never seen him around, and why he had the courage to steal in the manor."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James lowered his head, letting his arms drop to his sides.\n\n\"What else?\" He asked, he was use to being alone and had no interest in having friends or family.\n\nHe took a deep breath and looked the barely adult in the eyes and again asked.\n\n\"What else?\"."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nShe felt her heart crack a little. She couldn't let him go, all alone in the Witherlands. He had nowhere to go, and if someone else caught him stealing he would end up dead. \n\nA crazy idea crossed her mind as she bit her lip with worry. Sibyl would kill her if she ever found out...\n\n\"Well... There's another option...\" She said as she put the coats back in the closet \"*But* You have to behave, cause if someone discovers you are a thief you'll have to run. Deal?\"\n\nShe looked at the young boy, hoping he would accept. She couldn't let him die out there alone, she wouldn't think her brother deserved it, so the young boy before her neither did deserve it."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James looked up in confusion, another way?\nHe took a step forwards.\n\n\"I'll try\" He replied, he had no idea what it was but, judging from her personality, it would help him.\n\nThe young thief again looked the girl in the eyes, she was beautiful as he looked more closely.\nHe shut that thought down, she was most likely three or four years older."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\n\"Hope you know how to clean dishes...\" She said as she grabbed his hand and guided him to the door. She signed him to keep quiet as she guided him through the manor.\n\nDown some stairs, they passed the kitchen and went straight to some rooms that belonged to the staff. She looked around before knocking on one of the doors.\n\n\"It's me, open please\"\n\nA bit later a sleepy fairly old woman opened the door. Her clothes were modest, and though she was corpulent her face was sweet. \n\n+ \"Lady Anna, what are you doing here so late?\"\n\nAnna showed her the young boy that was behind her.\n\n\"He's a lost orphan, you think you have space for an apprentice?\"\n\nThe woman looked at the boy as she thought. After a while, she spoke again, nodding.\n\n+ \"I'll pass him off as my nephew. But just because *You* Ask\"\n\n\"Thank you\"\n\nShe turned to James, lowering her voice to speak to him.\n\n\"This is the 'what else'. You choose now\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James looked at the beauty holding his hand, albeit dragging him.\n\n\"I guess I do\" He replied, he does not want a job that restricts his freedom so perhaps running away after a while is the best choice.\n\nThe old lady looked like a pile of dust that stood, fall over already.\n\nShe walked out tired and slightly pissed.\n\n\"I'll pretend he is my nephew, only because you asked\" She said, That's what James heard.\n\n\"Oh no, will I ever be free?\" He asked himself.\n—\n\"I'll stay and keep you company\" He said, though he was most likely going to run away later."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\n\"She's a nice woman, she'll take care of you... Here you will have food, a place to stay, and will earn some money in the meantime... It's better than freezing to death or getting caught, isn't it?\"\n\nThere was a probability of him scaping, she knew that, but at least she offered him a new opportunity he didn't have available before. She hoped he would stay, the woman she was leaving him with was really nice and sweet, Anna appreciated her. \n\n\"Don't steal okay? Or we both will get in trouble\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"Agreed\" James now had a job and a home, he walked into the quarters for staff and looked around.\n\n\"The silver globe* He thought, he still had his belongings.\n\n\" Can I go get my belongings? \" He asked the blue eyed beauty.\n\nHis wolf cloak and poorly made cloths were in need of repair."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\n \"Tomorrow, I'll accompany you if you want\" She told him, smiling.\n\n+ \"We better get you proper clothes, boy. Don't want you to get sick\" The woman said.\n\n\"I'll see you tomorrow as soon as the sun rises, okay? Good night James\"\n\nAnna walked back to her room as the woman set James a proper spare bed and some clothes that were a bit too big for him."
}
] | 126 | 4,301 |
115.125 | 2019-08-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "James thought of her, walking with him, a pleasant thought.\n\nHe waved the noble goodnight, certain he would see her again.\n\nHe undressed in private, revealing his skinny white body, he had barely any hair and pink nippples that weren't very much visible.\n\nHe fell asleep straight after he put his head down."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village of Barrmount**\n\nJoseph swept the dirt and horse manure off the streets, sun setting, the large man working hard to keep the street clean. Probably too hard. But he needed this job, so best to be enthusiastic. The former woodcutter hummed tunelessly as he worked."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village, near the Barrmount manor\n\nAs the warm last rays of sun kissed the Iron Plaines for the last time today, Lady Anna got ready to leave the village on her percheron stallion. She always made sure the horse was well taken care of and didn't freeze to death, as it was practically her best friend. \n\nThe sound of the newly put horseshoes against the ground was muffled by the various voices of the people and the birds who where returning home for the day. The freezing nightly breeze was starting to make its guest appearance, making the young woman slightly shiver, and her dark brown hair get all over her face.\n\nShe carefully passed by the man sweeping the ground as she put her hair back to its place. A small ball of yarn fell from her coat to the floor and she immediately halted the horse.\n\n\"Oh no! It will get ruined...\" Her soft voice was slightly sad.\n\nShe came down of the black and white horse."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n\n\nJoseph heard the horse approaching and neatly stepped to one side without looking up. As the horse halted next to him, the yarn fell into his vision and he looked up slightly at the rider disembarking. The big man bent down, picking up the ball of yarn and trying vainly to brush off any dust it had picked up.\n\n\"I'm sorry, ma'am.\" The man said. His voice was *Ridiculously* Low. He held up the ball of yarn to the woman. \n\"It's a little dirty...\" He said in a slightly apologetic tone. Maybe if he had cleaned the streets better it'd be okay. But oh well..."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\n\n\nShe looked up at the man, her certainly tiny height of 5'3 making her look up to look at his face. A huge smile appeared on her face, her dimples digging deep into her round cheeks. Her soft pale hands took the yarn carefully.\n\n\"Oh no, don't be! It's me who dropped it! Thank you...\" She put the ball back in her coat and looked back at the unknown man \"I don't recognize you, are you new here?\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\n\"My pleasure.\" He smiled slightly, but not showing his teeth.\n\"Yes, just arrived here two days ago. Got this cleaning job.\" He said, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. Despite the fact he was working, he had an enormous backpack on his back like he was a hiker. How peculiar."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village\n\n\"Welcome to the Iron Plaines then! I'm Anna, pleasure\" She did a small bow as she introduced herself \"Who are you, sir?\" Her eyes were full of curiosity.\n\nThe sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, but meeting new people was something she couldn't resist. The soft wind caressed the fur of her coat as well as her now pink cheeks and nose.\n\nHer horse stood calm behind her, waiting, as she observed the man with a smile on her face."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\n\"Joseph Everard.\" He bowed his head slightly, attempting to follow suit. He leaned on the broom, his muscled frame looking almost awkward on the slim handle. He didn't react to the passing of time at all, and looked to the streets where people were retiring with a soft smile. He'd be out here for more time yet.\n\n\"Thank you for the warm welcome, Anne. I've lived in other parts of the Witherlands, but no doubt, this place has a certain beauty to it.\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village\n\n\"It does, doesn't it? You should have a walk around the forest, there are some stunning spots you can't miss...\" Her mind flew through the pines, to her favourite places, as she spoke \"Oh but don't go at night! Wolves are hungry\"\n\nAt the word *Wolves*, the horse nodded numerous times, not being specially fond of those creatures.\n\n\"Glad to have met you, you have a place to live yet?\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\n\"Oh.\" He grinned somewhat.\n\"Well I do actually work through the night. I haven't had a chance to find a spot to get some rest yet.\"\n\nIt was true, he'd been working for 24 hours straight and was about to continue for another 12. Well, he had a couple 30 minute naps during the day today to keep him standing. \n\nThinking of work, he immediately began sweeping again, though still looking up at Anne, implying that she could keep talking if she liked."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village\n\nHer eyebrows furrowed and slightly rose, her blue eyes showing worry. How long had this man been working?\n\n\"You haven't rested? That can't be! You will get sick, mister Everard...\" She put both of her hands over his, stopping his sweeping. Her hands looked small in comparison to his.\n\n\"Why don't you go to the tavern? They usually have spare rooms, say Lady Anna sends you, they will take care of you\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\n\"Oh I won't get sick. My immune system is quite strong after I was healed... And I need this job. The night shift pays very well.\"\n\nJoseph wanted to sleep, yes, but he wasn't sure if he could. His wife and his own actions haunted his dreams, making it nearly impossible to sleep. \n\nHis hands were rough and dry, a result of the cold air in the wintery Witherlands. He smiled just a little. \"Don't worry, I'll be quite alright. I don't often sleep. I find more productive things to do instead.\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village\n\nAs she listened to his words, curiosity filled her. Judging by what he was telling her, this new friend had some interesting stories behind him.\n\n\"You were injured? What happened, if I may ask?\" Her eyes were glistening like ice in the early morning, not being able to wait to hear what he had to tell \"And what do you do instead of sleeping? Don't you feel tired?\"\n\nThe horizon swallowed the sun, the night taking over the sky. Crickets soon followed, singing along to their own melody. Snow owls woke up and roamed the forests."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\nJoseph chuckled just a little and shook his head before smiling sheepishly. \"I don't know how it happened. No clue.\" \n\nThen his voice grew more serious. \"All I know is that I was lying on the ground, unable to control myself and my movements. It felt like I was being possessed.\" Joseph shuddered slightly.\n\"But a traveling doctor was kind enough to help me.\"\n\nWhen Joseph heard the next question, his eyes lit up with the light of excitement, and tried to keep his voice normal. \"Oh, I carve sometimes...\" He slung his backpack off his shoulder and laid it on the ground gently before taking out a tiny wooden delicately carved tree. He looked almost childish, and it was a comical sight, the enormous man holding a tiny beautiful tree, very proud of his work. Carving was the thing Joseph loved the most in life. It used to be second to his wife, but no longer."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village\n\nShe stared at the man as she listened closely to his words. As soon as she saw the small tree carving she gasped. She clapped her hands together and squeaked.\n\n\"You made it?!\" She stared at the carving with the excitement of a child though she was already 18 \"It's so... So beautiful\"\n\nShe was smiling wide, amazed by the small sculpture."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\nJoseph's smile became enormous, stretching ear to ear. \"Thank you. You're too kind, truly.\" Joseph was a sucker for compliments really, because of his naïveté of the world in general.\n\nA thought struck him, and he held out the tree carving. \"If you want, it's yours...\" He said, seeing the look on her face. Really, Joseph just wanted to make people happy which is why he loved woodcarving so much."
}
] | 106 | 1,842 |
206.4 | 2019-08-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nOutlying village\n\nAnna gasped as she looked back at the face of the man.\n\n\"R-really? Can I keep it?\" Her eyes went back to the figure as she carefully took it and put it in her coat \"Thank you... I promise I will treasure it, mister Everard\" She stood in her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.\n\nAnna went back to her horse and mounted. She waved at her new friend.\n\n\"I live not far from here, see you soon mister Everard\" She said as goodbye before going away in her horse. She had to be quick, it was too late for her to be out in the dark.\n\nLady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nAnna reached her home and left the horse in the stables, attended by one of the men who works with the horses.\nShe ran inside, trying to be on time for dinner.\n\nWhen everyone left to go to sleep, she sneaked in the kitchens to check on James. She had to attend to some unexpected things today and couldn't see him.\n\n\"James? Are you here?\" She asked as she entered, being greeted by some of the staff that was still around."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "It seems James was not around, no cloak or green eyes anywhere.\n\nThe teen thief must have left the uncooked bread noble.\n\nHe really had no choice, as much as he would've liked to develop something with the beauty, he did not know if she was going to trade him in."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount manor\n\nThe young woman searched around, asking for the boy. \n\n+ \"I'm sorry, Lady Anna, but he left. Said he was going to the bathroom and never came back...\"\n\n\"Oh...\"\n\nShe felt her heart sink with worry. What if some animal ate him? What if someone throw him in jail? What if someone killed him or mutilated him for stealing? The poor kid was too young, and on top of that, alone.\n\nShe sighed as she went to her room.\n\nShe changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in. Then, she took the small wood carving and put it next to her bed, on the small drawer. \n\nShortly later, she feel into a deep sleep."
},
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "Arch Seneschal Reginald Cyroven\nBrass Fighting Pits, The Horn Hills\n\nThe envoy climbed the steps leading up to the rather shoddy oaken gallery that overlooked the pits, splinters and dry blood at nearly every pace. \n\nHe was accompanied by two Vivayn Knights, with the Snow Crow encrusted at their breastplate. Every rowdy member of the audience moved aside at the sight of them, as they seemed to attract quite a lot of attention even amongst the barbaric combat ensuing below them. The Arch Seneschal had a knack for silencing people, just at the mere gaze of him. He was ungodsly pale, not particularly rare for a Witherlander, but it highlighted the dark rings that always circled his eyes, making him appear almost otherworldly, like tribes in the Black Arches parents would tell stories about to frighten their children. Reginald was a tall man, eclipsing even the brawny Knights that accompanied him, making him even more eye-catching. \n\nHe wore refined robes of wool and silk, dark cream and grey, with obscure patterns tracing all up the arms. Dangling at his neck was his chain of his office, a metallic eye with two coils wrapped around it. The Vivayn's words were \"Our eyes are always open\" And Reginald was the ever watchful and judging glare of House Vivayn, dispassionate and prudent. He also donned various rings on his fingers of silver, gold and other metals that looked alien to the untrained eye. They had scales, and gems of multi colours. He was the most distinguished figure amongst the hoarse debauchery. \n\n\"Lord David Brass,\" He called out, with one hand regally placed behind his back, the other held out in a manner of greeting. Brass' guardsmen, probably drunk, jumped at his words which also led to the Vivayn Knights to step forward. The Arch Seneschal, unfazed by the commotion, simply tilted his head, \"I am here on behalf of His Imperial Greatness Nathaniel Vivayn. He sends his regards. May I?\" He asked, signalling to the chair beside the upstart bastard."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Outlying Village**\n\n\"Of course you can. I have many more... More than I know what to do with...\" He have a slight smile. \"I'm glad you like it.\" \n\nHe leaned back on the broom as he watched her leave, waving back. \"Of course. I hope to see you once more.\" He said evenly before his face again became impassive stone and he continued his work. But any nearby may notice the strong lumberjack smile to himself, a hint of color upon his cheeks for the first time this cold night."
}
] | 150 | 1,032 |
306.25 | 2019-08-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "**Mendel Ackerley**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\nThe log cabin that had been referred to him was far more sturdy than his nearly underground hut back in Amoroth, yet the cold in this kingdom was hardly his forte. Ever since he'd made it past the border he'd been unable to stop shivering, and he'd already piled two furs on himself - courtesy of Kenan, he supposed. He'd need to give one to Yvaine, but for now, it was keeping him from turning blue. The blond assassin nearly kicked the door to the cabin open and stepped inside, bringing along a small flurry of snow before he shut the door. The furnishings were minimal - a small bed for one, a fireplace with a stack of logs nearby, a bearskin rug, and a candle by the bed. Mendel shuffled his way inside before grabbing a tinderbox from on top of the fireplace with numb fingers. \n\"This is... Ridiculous... There should've been someone else... I'm gonna... Die...,\" Mendel muttered as the match trembled in his hand, but he managed to strike it and toss it into the fireplace, watching as a few aged papers began to catch fire. The man gave it a moment to grow before putting a log on so as not to snuff the flame. If he was lucky, maybe he'd be able to feel comfortable as the fire grew. He huddled closer to the flame - when was he expecting his guest? He couldn't be sure. Perhaps his brain needed to defrost, too."
},
{
"author": "theseventhcynic",
"message": "**Yvaine Aster**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\nIt was either the stifling heat of the South or the numbing frost of the North. The midlands never seemed to be her assignment unless the children were with her and they rarely seemed to be since Tristane had abandoned them for the lap of luxury. On her part she had been in the wrong, to encourage the idea of a normal family in their profession. Kanen was right, she had been stupid. \n\nIt was rare that Yvaine completely disagreed with Kanen, and this was one of those occasions. The arrangement had been ideal, she had a chance to raise children she never had, and they had been given- or she hoped that they had been given a mother's love. Without the two bickering at her side or on Tristane's shoulders, the only company was the cutting wind against the tips of her ears as she continued in the vague direction she remembered Mendel's new hut being. A smile tugged at her lips beneath the cloak she had pulled up as she imagined how he was faring so far from the sun he usually basked in. If her ears didn't drop off from lack of circulation, she was certain he'd rant them off. \n\nYvaine had lost track of time when she reached the hut, and from the wisps of smoke she could see rising, he was *Home*. She'd never use that word to his face. Approaching slowly, she pulled her frozen hands from under the cloak to push open the door. \n\n\"I can't decide what's worse, sunburn or frostbite?\" She questioned, kicking her boots against the closed door to shake off the snow and ice that had caught onto their soles."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "**Mendel Ackerley**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\nMendel's head whipped around, which was quite the sight. He was entirely covered in two furs, one being worn as a coat and the other just thrown over his head, the sleeves tied around his neck to keep it in place. His cheeks and nose were a rosy red from the cold, though he was slowly beginning to warm up. \n\n\"You even have to ask?\" His tone was almost incredulous. \"The sun doesn't make me tremble - though I do still get that way when you're in the room,\" He added with a smirk as he turned back to the fire, which had grown to a decent size. It gave off a warm glow and a moderate amount of heat. \"C-Close the door, you'll let the heat out.\" He slowly waddled in his crouched position so he could look at Yvaine while also keeping himself near the fire. \"How was your m-mission?\""
},
{
"author": "theseventhcynic",
"message": "**Yvaine Aster**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\nIt took her a moment to catch her breath in the considerably warmer room and it was easier still once she remembered to remove the fur collar of her cloak from her face. With the slight adjustment, her hood fell, allowing her blonde wisps to fall from the makeshift bun she had made atop her head. The stray wisps were dipped in frosted blood, it wasn't her fault that there had been a struggle. As much as she would have loved to clean up, she was far too tired to at the present moment. Instead, she sunk into the space beside him, edging closer to the growing flame. \n\nShe scoffed at his comment. He was right in the fact she'd continue to kick his ass if they dared to spar again. \"It was messy, again. Can't you tell?\" Yvaine exhaled, pleasantly surprised that there was no longer a cloud of condensation when she did so. \"And I hate being neck deep in sweat, so I don't prefer that either. Terresol has the best terrain, and I will fight for that fact.\" She rubbed her palms together in an attempt to warm up her hands faster. She never had been the patient kind."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "**Mendel Ackerley**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\nMendel raised an eyebrow and looked his comrade up and down once more. Upon closer inspection, yes, it appeared to have been a messier job. \"Well, I suppose if killing people was easy we'd be out of a job,\" He said with a shrug. As the warmth began to permeate his body through the furs, he shrugged off the one that had acted like a fancy hat of sorts and draped it over Yvaine's shoulders. \"Terresol, isn't that were all the acolytes are? The cults and stuff, y'know. 'Praise the suuuuuuun',\" He said, making his voice a bit deeper for a more humorous mockery of their staple religion. \"I've got a house in Azaria, y'know. Not that they'd welcome me back.\" The coloration in his face had begun to turn to normal as the blood circulation within his body began to flow, and he gave a sniffle as his nose began to run just a little. \"If you want to get warm faster, you could always jump in. Reminds me of home.\""
},
{
"author": "theseventhcynic",
"message": "**Yvaine Aster**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\n\"Out of a job and out of a purpose. Though Kanen already rid me of the second.\" She mumbled offhandedly. She missed having the two little nippers at her side, tucking them into bed, making sure they ate. Yvaine had no doubt that they were well taken care of under Kanen's supervision but she couldn't help feeling slighted. After they'd been bought, the little bastards had been in her care, and she counted at least five years had passed since then. The two were reaching their teens, it was when they needed her most- or did she need them more. It was hard to decide. She pursed her lips, laughing lightly at his mockery. The Stoneclaws were travellers, they didn't care for the Gods of the masses, especially not the Terresolian masses that changed with every ruler. \n\"Terresol, the land of the fish fucker. Though he's long since history, at least was the last time I was there. So, we'll check on whether they're bowing to the Sun or Half-breeds when we next check in. Though my bet is they'll find a fire chicken to put on a pedestal.\" She paused. \"Do you believe in any of the Gods? The Frozen Ones, the bird, the shit tonne of em, the six- am I missing any?\" Yvaine didn't. If they existed they were dicks and didn't deserve to see her knees, and if they didn't then there was no need for her to get on her knees in the firstplace."
},
{
"author": "justasquid",
"message": "**Mendel Ackerley**\n**Somewhere in the Witherlands**\n\nMendel raised an eyebrow at her reply. It'd be difficult to tell if he hadn't known her so well, but there was a sharp edge to that second sentence that hid quietly underneath her tone. It was bitter and pained, even a hint of anger, though all of these emotions were small in their dosage. In short, he could tell she missed the children. \"Kanen's not one to abandon children, last I heard,\" Mendel said shortly in some sort of effort to comfort her. He wasn't good at that, usually. \"The kids are fine. We should be more worried about ourselves,\" He said, standing up and removing the fur that still wrapped around his body. He folded it as best he could in two and laid it on the bed before crouching by the fire. Why did the coat deserve all the warmth? He pulled a bit at his white cotton long-sleeve and his brown trousers - plain clothes that he wore in Amoroth but were covered by the fur, so what did it matter? He was just beginning to feel toasty when Yvaine popped such a philosophical question. \"Gods? Hmm,\" He paused, placing his hands on his cheeks to warm them a bit. \"I don't really think about it that often. I try to do what's right, and follow my instincts. If there's a god that has the same standards, maybe I'd believe in them?\" He followed it up with a shrug and an uncertain smirk. \"We won't really know what's up there until we go up there ourselves.\""
},
{
"author": "theseventhcynic",
"message": "**Yvaine Aster**\n**Somewhere in Witherlands**\n\n\"I know they're fine, but it doesn't change that they aren't here.\" It was a difficult situation. The children had been her calling from the moment she had been permitted to take charge. It was how she knew exactly when Annika and Alec blurred the line before playfighting and actually tearing each other limb from limb. How was anyone else amongst them meant to know that when Alec woke in cold sweat he needed a cup of cool water dashed with whiskey to help calm his nerves till morning. Or that when Annika lied, her lip twitched to the left after the sentence ended. She had raised them through the better half of their childhood, and just because Tristane had decided on another life didn't mean that she couldn't protect and train them on her own. \"Mendel, they were the closest to my own children I could ever have, Kanen shouldn't have the right to decide where they stay and when, they should be with me- like they have since they've been with us.\" \n\nShe watched as he moved to lay the fur over the bedding and upon examining her companion further she couldn't help but stifle a laugh. No wonder he was trembling. \"No wonder you're trembling, does it look like a desert out there to you? Dress for the weather, Ackerly, or do you need Kanen and I to teach you how to dress yourself again?\" It was a pitiful sight. She wore linen beneath her woolen shirt to make it bearable. \"Gods may be a pile of shit, but so is your shirt. Don't tell me you don't have anything lined with wool for this frost, you'll catch your death of cold out here otherwise.\""
}
] | 332 | 2,450 |
1,131.666667 | 2019-08-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "The Ice Lord Marshall Carter\nGrand Stead's Conference Room\n\n\"As you can see, there's no formal entry around any of the peninsulas under the Brasses. We'll be able to transport no warships to Thunder Break without inciting a fight with them,\" The Ice Lord spoke, leaning over the conference table where a map of the Witherlands lay. The chambers were dimly lit with a few torches scare around the meeting. They had been at it for hours.\n\n\"Our ships outnumber theirs 6 to 2. We could storm over them in less than a day,\" Lord Henry Syreth added, running his hands through his pointed beard. \n\n\"Brasses are bloodthirsty sons of whores, they love a good fight. Plus, they know their waters and land better than us. Defeating them at sea would be arduous, not to mention sieging the Horn Hills in the present climate would be no easy feat. Could take months,\" Lord Grenwich Greyholm commented, a grizzled man of 60, long in the tooth but still strong as a bull.\n\n\"Mayhaps we pardon the bastard and seek an alliance,\" Lord Archibald Quanderly of Quandervault suggested.\n\nThe whole room groaned and voiced their disproval. \n\n\"No megalomaniacal tyrant, nor obstreperous war criminal will see the rebellion's end with impunity, or their heads,\" Marshall said, with an air of finality. The righteous fury was evident in his sharp blue eyes to his councilmen. \n\n\"Then, if it please you, my Lord Ruler, extend correspondence with the older brother. It may be he can convince this David Brass to surrender and throw down his sword,\" Lord Quanderly said.\n\n\"Damien Brass is as spineless as the squid they display on their damned banners. We'll get no help from him,\" Marshall retorted. \"This sea-urchin bastard will face justice, but he'll have to wait. We need to focus all our efforts on the Vivayn forces,\" The Ice Lord proclaimed.\n\n\"It is indeed so, my Lord Ruler,\" Lord Syreth moved to the centre of the map, pointing at the Gritline, a body of water that ran through the Region of Great Walk. \"Angelo Torck led the defence against 300 Vivayn infantrymen. 233 Vivayn soldiers dead, the rest sent scurrying back in retreat. Minimal casualties for the Royal Army. A great victory,\" He declared, amassing positive response from the conference room. \n\nThe Ice Lord didn't seem so convinced, wearing that same stoic expression. \"Nathaniel Vivayn will weep no tears in this loss. His men, they're like meat to him. Meat he can throw at hungry wolves and watch how they devour it,\" Marshall said, meticulously analysing the map, his smoke-black hair falling down to his eyes. \"Vivayn had no intention of marching past Snowhall. He was tethering the line; seeing how far he could push it.\" \n\n\"Well then we're at an impasse. Neither armies are willing to mobilise to a neutral location, lest they face the costs of giving the opposition an advantage,\" Lord Greyholm announced. \n\n\"Then what is to be done?\" Asked Henry Syreth. \n\nThe room fell quiet, save for the faint crackling of torches. \n\n\"We set Felix on him,\" Marshall said, turning every head in the room at him. \n\n\"You can't seriously be considering sanctioning this mission, my Lord Ruler?\" Lord Quanderly asked, bemused. \n\n\"Felix Carter is one of the most capable battle commanders in the world. No matter the losses he suffered, he still managed to out-maneuver me across the entire war. If there's any man alive to attack Wingsway, retrieve Kierra and the others, and kill that soulless skeleton, it's him,\" Marshall said unwaveringly.\n\n\"One of the most capable *Battle* Commanders in the world. Do you believe he could lead a mission such as this?\" Lord Greyholm enquired. \n\n\"I believe when he's hells bent on something, nothing can stop him,\" There was a pause, \"Except me.\" There was an exchange of look amongst the officers and lords in attendance. \"Nathaniel can't plan for an attack he doesn't know that is coming,\" The Ice Lord stated. \n\n\"Do you really trust him though, my Lord Ruler?\" Lord Syreth asked.\n\nMarshall looked at him blankly. \"Of course I don't. He severed any trust long ago. But should he fall... It'll just be two traitors massacring each other,\" He said, putting the Snow Leopard figurine atop Wingsway. \"That's enough for today. This meeting is adjourned. Start rallying your troops, my Lords,\" Marshall finished. The councilmen bowed and shared their graces before departing. \"Not you,\" He said to his nephew without looking at him. Chaol had uttered but a word throughout the duration of the meeting. Marshall looked around the now all-but-empty conference room. \"You barely said anything,\" Marshall mused, as he rolled up the parchment the map was on. \"*Something* On your mind?\" He asked, in an almost ridiculing fashion."
},
{
"author": "theseventhcynic",
"message": "Duke Chaol Kyvall Demott\nGrand Stead's Conference Room\n\nThe days had merged into one long night at this point, and Chaol couldn't tell one from the next. It was the drag of not knowing, the frustration of being told to sit still and the anger at the Frozen Gods- if to the hells they existed for making it this way. For the young Duke, it was crippling, and his mother did nothing to help. Come to think of the woman, he hadn't seen her since his Uncle had sent the Vivayn forces back from Thunderbreak. Perhaps it was for the best that way, his mother had a knack for self absorbed narcissism, and he hadn't the patience for it. \n\nKierra was gone. He didn't even know what state she was in. After Vivayn had threatened to flay her at the gates, Chaol couldn't imagine what it had been like for her behind closed doors. *How could he have missed it? How could he have been stupid enough to give her away despite seeing firsthand the anomaly to humankind that Nathaniel was?*\n\nAs if Kierra being held wasn't enough, he had received word that the party transporting his wife and two sons had been found surrounded by the bodies of men he'd sent for their protection. With only the snow crow banner hanging from the overturned carriage, he knew that the fucker had taken them too. They would've been safer with him anyway, like Natalya had insisted. *Why hadn't he listened to her? Why didn't he trust himself to protect them? Why did he insist on sending them away?*\n\nIt seemed every decision he made as Duke lead to more chaos, or the decisions that mattered to him did. The voices at the meeting all synchronised, he was growing too used to hearing them. All talk, and nothing. They decided what they wanted and he could do **Nothing**. The matter of the Brass skirmish was the least of his worries, he had bigger fish to fry and he didn't give two fucks about any Horn Hilled fucker, not whilst Vivayn still lived.\n\nHe expected a march, a battle strategy, something of substance. Yet somehow, it seemed his Uncle Felix was to be the answer? If he hadn't been surrounded by elders, he would have scoffed. Yes, his Uncle was brilliant at what he did, but he was also an unreliable turncoat who plunged the lands into a Civil War- over *Nothing*. His finger traced his wedding band as he moved to leave, only to be stopped before he could step out from the table. Marshall's tone reminded him like that of a teacher, keeping behind a bad-behaved child after class. The chamber emptied, and his uncle spoke. Now that there were no spectators, his solemn look morphed into one of curiosity. *Not said a word- something on his mind* Was he trying to infuriate him? \n\nTongue in cheek, he shook his head.\n\n\"Nothing, Uncle. Other than that my sister is married to a sadistic skeleton who has marched on me and taken hostage my wife and infant sons. So you know, just the usual. Nothing more, nothing less.\" His words were sharp, and he took a moment to remind himself just where he was and how he was supposed to act. Only the moment he did, he wondered why, and dropped it again. \"I don't have anything to say. You tell me to sit still and wait, so that's what I'm doing. I've fought before but I've never had any experience with battle tactics. This is all the domain of your men, so what am I meant to say at these meetings when months have passed and we are no closer to getting *Any* Of my family back!\" He shook his head. Pale hands reaching to swipe his face before blue eyes met blue once again. \"Apologies, my Lord Ruler, but Uncle Felix isn't what I'd call our best efforts. How much longer am I meant to sit and wait behind these walls whilst that fucker has his grip on my *Wife*, my *Sister* And my *Children*? Until he sends me their heads?\" A scoff, as he balled his hands into fists by his sides and inhaled deeply. It had to be a joke."
},
{
"author": "timeless117",
"message": "Lord David Brass Self Named King Of The Seas/ Thorod Lockbeard \nBrass Fighting Pits, The Horn Hills\n\nDavid Brass had looked down with a grin across his face he had thoughts to himself *That's my champion unless he falls to another, that won't happen this day Thorod is many things but a fool isn't one of them* ,Thorod has stood over the others potential fighters, the Silverstep's blood all across the Lockbeards chest and his long bearded face, it had been a sight to behold, truly a message had been sent that this was a contest of survival.\n\nThorod had then wondered over to a near by barrel filled with schwarzbier also known as black beer, he had brought the large barrel of schwarzbier himself it had been one of the few drinks that he truly enjoyed, he had lifted the barrel over his head and he started chugging it, then after a good minute and a half of chugging the schwarzbier down his large throat, he then had poured the dark liquid all over himself.\n\nThe dark liquid poured all over the Titans body the blood started to wash off not smoothly thought most of the blood had been gone, once he had finished emptying the large barrel of schwarzbier, he then let the large barrel drop once the barrel had been emptied by his thirst, it caused a great thud once the barrel hit the ground, he then slowly walked back into the fighting pits.\n\nThe wind had began bowing heavily a bitter cold wind as Thorod stood tall in the centre of the pits, some of the Sliversteps's blood and schwarzbier still slowly dripped off Thorod's body on to the mud covered ground, David grinned from ear to ear as he called out \"After such a brutal display we must have another!\" The crowd cried out in the area hungry for more bloodshed and violence, David called out once again his voice filled with pride \"To all the fighters if you wish to leave, this is your final chance to do so, if not all fighters enter the fighting pits NOW!\"\n\nDavid smirked at Thorod as he thought to himself *This will be a grand test and it will be interesting to see how many Thorod will defeat, or how many will just left dead on the ground*.\n\"Let this be a fight of survival, you will fight for The Horn Hills or you will die for The Horn Hills, the seas will welcome your body's in her embrace if you fall this day, as her King I speak for our sea fight well warriors\" He finished his speech as the crowd roared in approval.\n\nHe had sat back into his seat, Thorod had just sniffed in response to David's words and stood in the centre of the fighting pits, as he waited for whoever had been left to face him, he had the chance to think to himself *Our Sea King loves to hear himself talk*, he looked up to David as he finished his thoughts *He has the people though I'll give the basterd that, I wonder how many will have to fall by hands this day*.\n\nDavid had felt a hand patting his back, he had slowly turned his head around in response, to only see a the well dressed visitor that had been stood before him, he then seen the sigil on the visitors guardsmen armour, David thought to himself as he half listen to the outsiders words, *House Vivayn has sent this gentleman, this outsider to see me, well I knew one of two battling Houses would arrive seeking my help, I practically own the seas after all, but this sooner then I thought it would be, the war must be going bad or something like that if they need my help this soon*.\n\nHe had chuckled slightly at the end of the man's induction as did his guardsmen, he stood up from his chair and patted Reginald's his back in return, the pat had been firm but not too hard, he looked into Seneschals eyes and said with a chuckle \"Of course he does, come then join me and watch the fights\".\n\nDavid had sat down in his large chair and looked to his guardsmen \"You boys are dismissed, I have the mighty snow crows men watching over me, go to the lower leaves, incase any of the thralls get bold enough to try to escape doing this fight for survival\", the two Brass guardsmen looked at the Vivayn guardsmen for a moment, then both nodded to their king of the seas \"We live and die by the sea\" Both the gaurdsmen had declared slightly tipsy, as they went down the stairs leaving their king alone with the outsiders.\n\nDavid swirled his Brass cup in his left hand, the brass cup had his houses sigil burned into it's side, \"Do you wish for a drink the brave representative off Nathaniel Vivayn?\" He questioned Reginald before he had added quickly, \"One of my many whores can serve one to you\" He had then tapped his hand right on his chair as he continued his words to Reginald \"If you wish dear guest, you may take one of then with you, it most of been a long journey, from wherever you came from to get to our grand island, to get to The Horn Hills\".\n\nHe then suddenly sighed deeply he hadn't given much time for the Arch Seneschals to answer his questions, he had then said in a less welcoming tone \"Let's be honest men for a moment, what does the snow crow wish from us, me and my people I mean, be blunt with me if you wish, but if he wants my aid in this war of a block of ice I don't care for, and right now I don't care either side they have given me no reason to both have looked down at House Brass for a good while now\" His words as blunt as a rusty knife, \"Non respected us for a great many years, mostly thanks to my disappoint of a older brother, but another reason was that House Carter grew proud, as did the other northern houses their pride made them forget who fought along side them,House Brass wasn't a name even spoken of in the north anymore, until I took what was mine at Thunder Break then everyone noticed us again, the Demotts definitely will remember our names\" He had said proudly.\n\n\"A Brass doesn't do something for nothing\" He had said this in stern tone as he drunk from his cup filled with ale, he then looked at the man unblinking \"Understand me\" His almost commanding words lingers for a moment the only sound of the cold wind bitter wind had been heard for that moment in time, the King of the Seas gaze upon the outsider *He sends his regards my ass*, he thought bitterly as he awaited Reginald's response to his many questions and statement."
}
] | 1,105 | 3,395 |
444.333333 | 2019-08-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "The Ice Lord Marshall Carter\nGrand Stead's Conference Room \n\nHe let him speak his piece, bleed out some of the poison consuming him, whilst just standing there with his typical unmoved inclination. His nephew was tired. His men were tired. His army were tired. Marshall was *Exhausted.* The Witherlands, apropos in its name chipped away at the very fibre of one's being, slowly, but surely breaking them down until the wounded accepted their fate and were put out to pastures new. Perhaps that was what they were all really dreaming of deep down, somewhere... Other than there. It was always a battle of attrition, and Marshall was relentless. It was almost as if he couldn't stop all of this, the constant fighting, the endless struggles, but not within his Kingdom; within himself. Something routed deep beneath him seemed to yearn for it, to call out in the endless pit of blackness that was his soul and what echoed back to him were the drums of war. He wanted to stop it, he knew. Some part of him *Wanted* To give in, but he was completely unable to do so. He *Had* To fight. That was what Marshall Carter knew. For a moment when he gazed at his brash and tempered nephew, he almost envied him. Chaol wanted this all to end so he could live in peace with his family. But when you took the fighting away, what else was The Ice Lord?\n\n\"I understand your frustration,\" Marshall said plainly. \"You need to channel it. Use it to our advantage,\" His words were laced with ambition, ambition he wanted Chaol to reach out and grab with him. \"My own sister was held captive once, or so it seemed,\" He told him. \"I had no love for your father, that's well known. But Gods he knew how to fire me up. Messages, threats, promises of what he was going to do my sweet innocent sister. But was as time surpassed, the veiled threats became more illuminated. It was apparent he wasn't going to do anything to your mother, because that was his only bargaining chip,\" Marshall recounted, his calloused hands coming together as he did so. \"I wanted to act. I *Wanted* To charge up to Thunderbreak's gates sword in hand, for your father's head. But I waited, I listened to those around me and took a deliberate course, which irritated him and made him slip up,\" He relented for a moment, twisting his neck which led to it audibly cracking. After that, he seemed more at ease, more casual. \"This, as much you might find it hard to believe, is no different,\" He moved closer to his nephew, disregarding the task at hand that lay on the conference table for once and focused on his grieving nephew. \"Francais wanted to coax me out with an obvious ploy. Nathaniel wants the same thing for you,\" The Ice Lord sighed, before putting his hand on his nephew's shoulder. \"You can't play in to this monster's game. Because if you do, even for a *Second...* We've already lost.\" He looked in to his nephew's eyes in his sorry attempt to comfort him. Marshall realised that he had avoided doing that ever since they had all showed up in Grand Stead, for the hatred he bore his father and the resentment for his mother. But when he did glance at him, he didn't feel his frozen heart surge with animosity because of the seed from whence he came, he felt something of a... Familiarity, which shocked him. He had Marshall's eyes, and that same lost forlorn look.\n\n\"Nathaniel realises the value in the lives of your family. For everything he is, he's not stupid. He will try to use their meaning to you to utter efficacy. The more he harms them, the more their value diminishes,\" He removed his hand from his nephew's shoulder. \"I'm not here to educate you on the buyers-sellers market of hostages. What I'm saying is... We won't let any more torment befall them, or you,\" He then took Chaol's face in his hands, the harshness of his hands rubbing against his nephew's pretty features and sharp cheekbones. \"But until then, I need you with your head screwed on, your chin held high and shoulders broad. I was wrong to refuse you and your sister when you arrived here, I see that now. You both are the future of our family, our dynasty. You are my kin. I will let *No* Other pretenders try to usurp us, cast us out or spit on our legacy. They will feel the full ferocity of our cold blood. But I can only do it if you are with me.\" He looked in to Chaol's reflective blue eyes and brought him closer. \"Are you with me?\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount Manor\n\nAnna wasn't able to stay still for a second straight ever since the letter arrived.\n\n\"Lady Anna!\" The poor woman trying to brush her hair started to lose her temper, as the young Barrmount had completely ruined her hairstyle three times already.\n\n\"I'm sorry... I'm- I don't know what's going to happen... Sybil always takes care of this kind of meetings, she's the one who knows about this!\" The dark haired young woman looked at her reflection on the mirror, as her hair could finally be handled properly. She fidgeted with her fingers, nervously biting small bits of the inside of her mouth, which made her pout in a funny way. \n\n\"It will be okay, miss...\" \n\n\"What if they end up wanting a war between our houses? Sybil will kill me...\" \n\n\"Take a deep breath, miss. Just be yourself and follow the instructions Lady Sybil told you\" \n\nAnna closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warm air of her room fill her lungs. The chimney kept the room at a perfect temperature. \nThe young woman felt a small relief invade her. Maybe she could do it. \n\nHer icy blue eyes reflected the nearby flames when she opened them again. She stared at her reflection, scruziating her face in the search of features of his father's and sister's face. They were the best at doing this job, at least the best she knew of. \n\n... \n\nAnna stood at the main entrance of the manor, wearing her best clothes and her best fur coat; she tried to keep the best posture possible, even though she was a nervous mess inside. Her hair was neatly groomed in an up-do, not even the cold wind that blowed could mess it. \nLady Anna took a deep breath as she saw her visitor arriving, wishing Sybil could have been able to assist. \n\n\"Oh gods, guard me today I beg...\""
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "Taedra Westbrook\nBarrmount Manor\n\nSo far, the journey inwards had been quiet. Thierou had decided to accompany her on her journey to the Barrmount house, for reasons he'd not let on but she figured most likely had to do with wanting to get out of the clouds for a while. The life they were used to among the peaks always made being on solid ground euphoric. The air felt thicker, their bodies weighted with a new sensation in the same way a man's lungs grew heavy in the steam of a well tended bathhouse. \n\nThierou spent the majority of their carriage ride to the manor with his head pressed against the window, having slid the small glass pane back to allow the fresh, heavy air into the carriage. His eyes were closed and he breathed deeply as the carriage rocked on. \n\nTaedra, on the other hand, spent the trip with her mind back home. Before they'd left their father had taken a meeting with Lord Rhoderick. It didn't sit well with her, but it was hardly her place to comment on the man. As they moved through Witherland territory north of their own borders, she couldn't help by wonder what spiral they'd fall into if they ran into trouble. \n\nPerhaps that was why Thierou insisted on accompanying her. \n\nWhen they finally arrived, Thierou stepped out first, the tall man adjusting the heavy Wolff's fur on his back. Taedra wore one of the families furs as well, a lighter, warmer rust color that supposedly Alexandria Wolff had personally made for her. He helped her from the carriage, and they turned together towards the Barrmount home, heading up the stairs together."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount Manor\n\nAs she saw the two Westbrook siblings get down the carriage, her heart started pounding her chest, fighting its way out of it. She blinked a couple times, quickly, as she gulped, trying to untie the knot in her throath.\nShe noticed her breath was slightly heavier than usual and took a deep breath, right before she drew her best smile on her face.\n\nThe dimples in her cheeks were as prominent as ever, and her eyes had a warm and welcoming look.\n\nShe prayed her voice didn't tremble.\n\n\"Lady Taedra, lord Thierou...\" She said in her kindest tone as she elegantly bowed \"... I welcome you to the Barrmount Manor. I hope your journey has been pleasant.\"\n\nShe walked towards them as she spoke, feeling intimidated by the eldest brother. Her small frame seemed to be even smaller next to the siblings. \"An ant would be more intimidating than me right now\" She tought to herself.\n\n\"My sister is very sorry for not being able to attend, but wishes you a pleasant stay and hopes you will be able to meet in the future. May we head inside?\"\n\nNot even the harsh and sharp freezing cold of the Iron Planes had ever made her shiver like she was at that moment under the thick coat. She hoped they wouldn't notice. Sybil would be so disappointed right now of her weakness, or so thought the young woman."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "**\nTaedra Westbrook\nBarrmount Manor**\n\nThierou let Taedra speak first, and her voice was soft and even as she gave a greeting for the both of them. \"Lady Barrmount, thank you for having us.\" She said simply, and at the explanation for why Sybil Barrmount wasn't in attendance, she nodded, though Thierou spoke. \n\n\"Next time you see her let her know she was missed. Another opportunity will arise, I'm sure.\" He did his best to assuage her fears, though by the way she looked at them both, he wasn't going to do so easily. She suggested they move inside and he nodded, ushering his sister in first as he was technically just here as an escort."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount Manor\n\nTheir friendly manners made her feel slightly better. She guided them, making a small tour of the place. The manor was designed to keep the heat inside, with fireplaces in every room, fur rugs of different animals that had been hunted by the late Lord, pinewood furniture with more animal furs on them, low ceilings and chandeliers made with pinewood and imported metals.\n\n\"Are you liking the Iron Planes? I know it's not like your cloud surrounded home, but our forest have some stunning hidden views to offer...\" She had read about the Westbrook house, everything she could find at the manor's library, to avoid being completely clueless at the meeting.\nShe guided them to a fairly big room, which had a long pinewood table fit for 20 people, with 20 chairs around it. One of the walls was replaced by a balcony with a roof. Fortunately, the balcony had two huge doors that would remain closed when a reunion took place, so people wouldn't feel uncomfortable because of the cold. Fire was cracking inside the big fireplace, which warmed the place.\n\nA maid was awaiting when they came in. The maid bowed before speaking to Anna. \n\n\"Lady Anna, dinner will be served right after the sun sets. Our finest liquors and fresh water is already served\"\n\nAnna bowed her head.\n\n\"Thank you Suzanne, you can retire\" She said with a kind tone. Everyone at the manor had been working without rest prior to the visit.\n\nThe maid left and closed the doors. Anna took off her black and brown fur coat and put it on a nearby couch. The table was indeed full with bottles and globets.\n\n\"Well...\" She wasn't sure how to start the conversation. How does one even ask people to be their allies in future battles? She doesn't even like battles. She cleared her throat, trying to hide how lost she was.\n\n\"Uhm... W-we're honoured by your presence, Lord and Lady Westbrook. What's the nature of your visit? The letter only said you wanted a meeting\"\n\n*\"Was that a good start? Oh gods, please...\"* She thought as she served herself a bit of wine."
}
] | 375 | 2,666 |
296 | 2019-08-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "**\nTaedra Westbrook\nBarrmount Manor\n**\nTaedra stayed a respectable distance back, with Thierou a footfall behind her to her left as they moved through the home into the room that had been prepared for their arrival. \"We haven't had the opportunity to see much of it, but so far it's been pleasant enough.\" She told her truthfully. A maid was waiting in the room when they arrived, and the brief interaction between the Lady and servant made Taedra curious if it was normal behavior or put on for their sake. \n\nThe Barrmount's weren't particularly well known in their part of the world, or at least they hadn't been on the radars of the heirs. Thierou's knowledge had been the most extensive, and even that didn't provide them with much information without reaching out to their father to fill in the blanks. Taedra was, as always, more focused on internal affairs. With the war going on, she thought it best to be _very_ aware of what was happening in their own backyard. \n\nBut the letters from other Houses couldn't be ignored, and Taedra was all too aware of her fathers belief that the gods had plans for her outside of their own mountain keep. She didn't necessarily disbelieve that, but she felt it was the wrong time to branch out. Thierou had insisted on her sending a response, and to try her hand at diplomacy. \n\n\"Nothing heavy, Lady Barrmount.\" Taedra insisted, when asked about the nature of the visit. \"It's not a bad idea to get to know your neighbors, right?\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount Manor\n\nAnna let out a slight sigh of relief. They seemed to be friendly enough. Her body relaxed as she took a sip. The taste of wine didn't often flood her tongue, just at formal events with her sister. She kept repeating in her head the instructions and advise her sister gave her. They needed allies, at all costs, no matter how huge or small. And given the information they knew at the manor about the Westbrooks, this opportunity couldn't be missed. \n\n\"Indeed.\" She did a pause as she put the globet down, back on the table. She opened her mouth, ready to begin with the diplomatic talk, but something else crossed her mind: Sybil did it her way, and it worked, no doubt, but maybe Anna's way could also work. They seemed to be friendly after all, and Taedra said they're just visiting to meet them.\n\n\"I'm... May the frozen gods have my back, but I... I-I've honestly been so afraid of this meeting...\" She always thought that being sincere was always the right thing to do, and it was time to prove it \"I never take care of the political issues, I'm not as good at it as my sister...\" She faced the both of them, with her head high and determination in her eyes \"... But it will be my pleasure to show you our beautiful lands, answer any questions, and make your stay as perfect as I can\"\n\nShe formally formally held her own hands, pressing them while hoping she didn't ruin everything. She gulped."
},
{
"author": "durkhan",
"message": "**\nTaedra Westbrook\nBarrmount Manor\n**\nThierou and Taedra's heads both slowly angled to the side when Anna admitted she was afraid of the meeting. They moved in baffled unison that she would openly admit to any fears like that, and Thierou laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.\n\n\"Well, a word of advise: don't ever admit that to anyone else again.\" He told her, and Taedra gave him a stern look. \"You're going to have conversations and meetings that pertain to the future of your House. Without a patriarch, others will assume you're going to be easy to take advantage of, and admitting to your fears or weaknesses in diplomacy is only going to make them actually do it.\" Thierou warned. \n\n\"What my brother means to say is that it's not wise to speak on those insecurities. Especially around, well,\" She gestured to herself and Thierou. \"Practical strangers.\" Taedra gave a small smile though, and reached for one of the goblets to fill it with water. She brought it to her lips, but paused a moment, giving a small laugh to cover the fact she inhaled deeply to smell for contaminations to the clear liquid before taking a sip. \n\n\"I don't mean to offend, but it would be an awful shame to hear you've found yourself in a sticky situation later on down the line, Lady Barrmount.\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount Manor\n\nThierou's laugh took her by surprise, drawing a much confused expression on her face. As he spoke, she relaxed and smiled.\n\n\"Oh dear, if I had a coin everytime I've been told about that I... I would be the richest woman that has ever existed\" She said, along with a small chuckle.\nAnna looked at Taedra as she spoke, smiling to her.\n\n\"I'm aware it usually isn't a wise decision to be sincere in this situation, but... Well, you seemed to be nice and... Not like you would invade us right now... And, it worked?\" She wasn't so sure of those last words \"Please don't tell Sybil I did this. But I hope I didn't affect negatively your opinion on house Barrmount, we would be honoured to forge a friendship with house Westbrook. As you see, you will have absolute transparency on my part.\"\n\nHer smile wouldn't vanish from her face as she spoke to them sincerely, with her usual soft voice, the anxious feel completely dissipated."
}
] | 314 | 1,184 |
137.666667 | 2019-10-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "**Maren Tockett\nOutskirts of a large town**\n\nThe cold air bit at her skin, her tangled mop of hair being pushed back by her skinny hand. Her body ran with occasional shivers as it tried to keep warm in the unforgiving chill. She was lucky she hadn't lost her toes to frostbite yet.\n\nHer surroundings were bleak, the rocky shoreline and roiling ocean were simply different shades of grey. The town behind her was still alive, the sounds of horse carts and trades going about were present quietly behind her. People stayed away from her, afraid of who she was and why she had arrived. That was to be expected, not often do people survive the Witherland wilds, let alone a young child. She kept to herself anyway, sitting on a large rock and watching the waves crash against the shore."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nSome city somewhere, The Witherlands\n\nVik was *Freezing*! Why anyone would live in such a place was beyond him. The minuscule man walked barefoot along the snow, having come to this place to study this Plague that was sweeping his swamp and the rest of Marin. The town proved useless, the people not affected by the sickness were too afraid to answer a midget in a golden Mask's questions, and the ones who were sick already wouldn't last the trip back to his funland.\n\nVik sighed as he left the town, walking towards the coastline so he could get some salt for his sandwich. He loved salt, but he forgot to bring some for his lunch.\n\nAs he approached the coastline he noticed a huddled mass that appeared to be smaller than most sick people. Vik waddled up to the bundle of furs before plopping down next to the water.\n\n\"Hello there!\" Vik said, his pennywhistle voice breaking the silence as he began scooping water into a pot."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "**Maren Tockett\nOutskirts of a large town, The Witherlands**\n\nMaren squeaked, not expecting Vik's sudden greeting. She looked over at him with wide eyes, her teeth still chattering. She furrowed her brow and finally got to take in the view. A small masked boy. Man? He was the size of a child but he definitely didn't sound like one. \n\n\"Ha... Hello.\" She replied, pulling her furs closer. She was in a state of surprise from even being spoken to, let alone a little gold man. She watched him scoop the frigid ocean water, her pigeontoed feet shifting.\n\nHer small voice was barely audible over the tumbling waves, and so she spoke up, a little louder a he could hear her. \n\n\"Hello...!\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nSomewhere in the Witherlands I don't know.\n\nVik was humming to himself as he poured the collected water into his tiny cauldron, the tune having bo rhythm or melody, just a collection of notes and beats that were tossed together at random. Vik hadn't spoken to a child since Mikhail, and this one promised to be much more entertaining. \n\n\"How are you today? What brings you to this popsicle of a wasteland?\" Tiny Vik set the cauldron aside and dug inside his patchwork bag, searching through the smorgasburg of chaos to find his tinder and flint so he could start boiling the seasoning and get on with his food."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "**Maren Tockett\nWitherlands**\n\nShe shuffled slightly, unsure of how to respond. She but her bottom lip, crossing her arms tighter and scooting forward on the rocks.\n\n\"Uh... I...\" *She didn't know what to respond with, stuttering. She placed her feet down on the ground, the shale like rocks sounding like broken glass beneath them. She still sat on the rock, but now she seemed prepared to dart if need be.\n\n\"I don't know.\" She squeaked out meekly, loud enough to be heard. She looked down the coastline, at the endless coast and icy ocean."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nA rock on the coast\n\n\"What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know how you are? For instance I'm hungry and cold, and you are... Blank!\" The mannerisms of Vik were often seen as strange and off putting, even to him at times, but he gave up trying to control his own mind long ago. The minute magic user began assembling his small cooking fire by teepeeing the sticks and dried leaves together, looking at his work but seeming focused on his words more then anything.\n\n\"My name is Tiny Vik, what's yours?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "**Maren Tockett\nRock**\n\nMaren watched him gesture, and she awkwardly listened to him go in about how to carry on a conversation. She pursed her lips as he stacked his sticks and twigs. Her name. Funny. It was *Almost* Her country. \n\n\"Maren...\" She replied, and then remembered his first question. \"And I'm cold...\" She added. She was. Very cold."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nI'm running out of jokes for locations\n\nTiny Vik giggled at the obviousness of her reply, the chilling sound wasn't nearly as effective if it wasn't coming from the void where his mouth should be.\n\n\"Well Maren, I have an extra blanket, would you like it? Or perhaps I should construct my fire a bit larger?\" Vik opened his bag again, prepared to retrieve either wood or fur depending on the reply."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "**Maren Tockett\nJust say Rock**\n\nMaren glared at the blanket and the sticks, pushing herself completely up off the rock and walking over to Vik, matching his height. She poked her fingers together nervously, her dirty face showing an expression of anxiety.\n\n\"I... Can... Can... I please have both?\" She said quietly, now close enough to be heard without speaking up. Truly her voice was like powdered sugar, light and sweet. She blinked her near golden eyes at Vik, closing her hands together in a pleading motion. She even did a slight curtsy."
}
] | 128 | 1,239 |
154 | 2019-10-26 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nWitherlands Coastline\n\nTiny Vik couldn't help but giggle, giving gifts was what we he did after all. The mask shook slightly as he wiggled his head to the side, a poor attempt to fit the tune emanating from his mouth.\n\nThe mouth of his bag as nearly as big as he was opened again as Vik pulled a long clump of white fur, littered with black stripes. The minuscule hand held the bundle out towards the girl before returning to his haversack once again. What he produced next resembled a log covered in a bright orange powder that resembled rust. Vik knocked on the wood, causing a crack to split it in half, and steepled the two pieces over his smaller teepee.\n\nWith a flick of his wrist Tiny Vik sent a spark into the fire, causing the tinder and timber to sputter briefly, and catch alight in glorious green and blue flames. He giggled again at the display, before clapping his hands and resting them, clasped together, under his chin. His voidful eye sockets watching the sparks."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nCampsite with the Godling\n\nMaren took the blanket gratefully and wrapped it around her other three, sighing as it did feel so much better. As she watched him make the fire, her eyes sparkled. He... He was magic! Had to be, right? He just... Snapped his fingers! And a fire APPEARED! \n\nShe watched with a serious face, her face alight with green and blue as she stood close to the fire. She plopped down right then and there, simply taking what was offered and trying to focus in Vik, he was magic after all.\n\n\"Tiny Vik! Are you magic? How did you do that to the sticks?\" She asked excitedly, looking upward at the godling with innocent wonder. \"Thank you for the blanket, is it magical too?\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nWitherlands Coastline\n\nAnother giggle, the invisible smile underneath his mask wide and proud.\n\nIn truth the log was just covered in Fireweed and Pinecone dust, a combination of natural foliage renowned for its sparkling properties. However Vik liked the sight of it and it saved him energy for when he did use magic.\n\n\"I am, yes. How could you tell?\" He laughed to himself, beginning to assemble a small cooking station so he could finish boiling his salt.\n\n\"Unfortunately the blanket isn't magic, just really warm. Do you like magic my dear?\" Vik switched between giggles and solemn speaking in between sentences and words, a subtle trick he used to bypass the lack of visible emotion available to him since becoming a golden faced midget."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren nodded enthusiastically, staring at the fire. She looked up at him once more taking in the sight of his golden mask.\n\n\"I like magic... You remind me of a fairy...\" She said quietly, poking her little hands out and warming them at the fire. She nodded once more. Perhaps this was her mind finally going insane from the cold, but it *Felt* Real, so perhaps there was still a little magic left in the world. She gave him a tight, almost fake smile. \"Can you teach me to be magic, too?\" She whispered. A fire on demand would be most helpful when you live alone in the Witherlands."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nWitherlands Coastline\n\nVik began stirring his cauldron with a large wooden spoon made from a dark wood.\n\n\"You're a very funny person, what do you know about fairies? Maybe I *Am* One.\" He giggled before continuing, \"But you already know magic, I'm sure, just not the same kind maybe.\"\n\nVik cracked his knuckles briefly, the quiet pops causing a break in his monologue.\n\n\"Isn't that blanket magic for making you warm? Or food, it makes you strong like a potion, right? Magic doesn't have to be amazing and spectacular for you to use it.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett \nWitherlands coastline\n\n\"Well... But... Those things are *Ordinary*...\" She replied meekly, looking up at him. She didn't know sciences well, but there had to be something along those lines. \"Blankets and soups are *Ordinary*... But snapping your fingers to make fire appear is *Magic*.\n\n\"I... Heard about fairies once. They're little men with magic and they fly around. Sometimes they grant wishes... Can *You* Fly?\""
}
] | 143.5 | 924 |
131 | 2019-10-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nWitherlands Coastline\n\nTiny Vik gasped and covered his eye holes with his miniature hands, shaking his head.\n\n\"Fly!? Oh no no no, well actually I don't know, and I'm not looking forward to what happens when I try and find out I can't.\" A giggle, \"I can move really fast, like a tunnel across Marin to wherever I want to go, although it's a little tricky to get the hang of.\" He reached up and rubbed the top of his head where he made the acquaintance of a large oak once."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands Coastline\n\nMaren finally made a small smile at his animated movements, it seemed Tiny Vik was growing on her a little. She cocked her head slightly, thinking about his power. \"Tiny Vik, can *You* Teach me to move fast like that?\" She asked sweetly, clasping her hands together shakily.\n\n It would be so wonderful to run away from the Witherlands, nobody liked her and surely her father had sent someone looking for her sometime in the past two months. She was paranoid, ready to run away at any moment, and luckily she found herself small enough to hide in several places others may not have thought of.\n\nShe thought about food as she liked at the pot he had on the flame, looking up at him. Was there enough for two? Would he like scraps? Could she have them instead? Oh, food sounded magnificent."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nUnderneath the Sky\n\nTiny Vik sighed once again.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I can't teach anyone.\" Vik reached up to his golden mask. He extended his index fingers and, starting at the top, followed the outline of his mask until his fingers met at the chin.\n\n\"You see, little one, I can only do what I can because of this mask. If it weren't for it I'd be just like anyone else.\""
}
] | 117 | 393 |
207.25 | 2019-10-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny VIK\nTHE CAPS LOCK BROKE\n\nVik grew solemn for a moment, the memories of his past life flooding forward at the mention of a cost.\n\n\"In the moment no.\" He began\n\n\"When it came down to it it was all as simple as putting on a new hat, but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a price.\" He giggled, \"All magic has a price, dearie.\n\n\"I was a man before, I served an order of knights, I had a wife, I was happy. But the other orders were jealous, they began harboring power and sewing the seeds for betrayal. I lost my father, my love, and everything I used to be.\" He paused, sprinkling some white powder into his boiling water, \"The only thing left was the name 'Vik' and a drive to finally get what I want.\"\n\nHe craned his head towards the child, \"What do you want, Maren?\"\n\nHe was almost certain that was her name, despite never actually being told it."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands COAST\n\n\"Ah...\" How did he know her name, she wondered? She just gave the answer to 'magic' as she thought about his story. He was mighty short for a knight, but that must mean he was an even more incredible fighter. And was his love as short as he was? She wondered that as well but thought it rude to ask. \n\nShe thought it was a sad story nonetheless, losing everything for a magical mask. She thought it was awful kind that he would even ask what she wanted when she was sure what he wanted was more important. So she thought really hard about it, furrowing her brow and narrowing her eyes.\n\n\"What I... Want...\" She thought slightly, crossing her arms again and leaning forward, looking at the fire. \"I... Want... A...\" She began, but her mind drew a blank, causing her to frown. There were plenty of things she wanted... A happy family, a warm home, someone who loved her... Mostly just any form of affection was very high on her list. Surely Vik didn't want to hear her life story, and she wondered what she could tell him. Maren inched forward on the less than comfortable rock that was her seat.\n\n\"I want... To... I want... A... Ah... I want a hug.\" She murmured quietly, looking at him before looking down. \"I think a hug will do...\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nThat song Fergalicious but it's \"Vikalicious,\"\n\nVik couldn't help but gasp before giggling softly.\n\n\"A hug? You see a man who could potentially grant you any wish and you ask him for a hug?\" Vik had his hand placed dramatically over his mouth as he chortled. Eventually he stood up spreading his arms out wide like some kind of lower cased tee.\n\n\"Very well, I am a kind and generous god!\" Another giggle."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nMaren is just \"Marin\" Spelled differently\n\nMaren stood from her rock, About the same height as Vik, and walked over and into his arms. She threw her own arms around him and squeezed him with all the kindness and love she herself coveted, laying her head on his shoulder. It was, by all means, a really nice hug. Affection was scarce in poor Maren's life, and to finally take what was offered was something absolutely magical, at least by her standards.\n\nAnd with that, Maren gave him something as well, as only contact with her could. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before letting go of Vik and looking at the empty golden mask.\n\n\"Tiny Vik, thank you for the blanket and the fire and the hug. You made me feel so warm... So much better than anything in the whole world!\" She said it seriously, nodding assuredly at the entire situation, a smile didn't grace her face, but it was obvious she was quite satisfied with what she had been given."
}
] | 216.5 | 829 |
341.2 | 2019-10-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "spooksworth",
"message": "Lord Nathaniel Vivayn\nSouthern Border, Wingsway \n\nThe snow crunched under the Rogue Lord's feet, as the heavy blessing from the Frozen Gods cast down on their chosen son's fortress. Days it had been going at that, point, it had to have been. It felt like eons since the even the faint silver glistens that the sun dared to shine upon this miserable wasteland. It seemed all life, all semblance of joy and feeling had forsaken the largest Kingdom in Marin. Perhaps that had always been the case, perhaps those that dwelled in such an inhospitable place and called it home didn't know joy or feeling. Now only darkness consumed the land. Darkness and death. The Chosen One saw that as an omen. If this round of civilisation had failed itself, it was time to wipe the slate clean and start anew. Then the lands would be pure again. \n\n\"Hundreds... Maybe thousands, in only a few days. They all came pouring in. In all my years, I had never seen anything like it,\" Sir Roland Ultrott said, a senior Knight in service to House Vivayn for years, wrapping his cloak around his armour as he led his lord up the edge of the cliff. \n\n\"You've seen hundreds of battles, Sir Roland. *Thousands* Of deaths. What bestirs you so this time around?\" Lord Nathaniel Vivayn enquired, as they came to a halt nearing the edge of the cliff. \n\nThere was a silence initially, as the cold winds attacked them, causing their cloaks to flap aimlessly like lost children. Sir Roland turned to his Lord. \"There's something about them, my lord. I was first response along with my twenty swords. We all saw them, grasping, begging, howling like street urchins-\"\n\n\"That's what they are,\" Nathaniel chimed in.\n\n—\n\"I've never seen a street urchin, peasant nor low born peel and tear the skin from beneath their eyes because it \"Burnt too much\". I've never seen a man vomit blood that looked like tar. I've never heard a small girl scream so loud. Something has them, my lord.\" Sir Roland gave a gruff breath, looking straight ahead. \n\n\"It's nature taking its course,\" The Skeleton Lord replied, still, and ever watchful over the horizon. That made Sir Roland turn his head to his liege with revulsion. \n\n\"You can't rule a Kingdom if there aren't any people to rule, my lord,\" Sir Roland insisted. \n\nLord Vivayn removed the cowl covering his mouth and breathed in audibly, closing his pale, pale eyes as he did so, almost as if in ecstasy, as if he were being rejuvenated. \"When I toasted my people to \"New blood\", I meant it. This batch is corrupted, Sir Roland. The time has come to cleanse the land,\" He prophesied. \n\n\"As you say, Your Grace..\" Sir Roland acquiesced, with his old calloused hands teetering on the pommel of his sword. \"But even so, perhaps it is time to take them down. A week was enough. Now, the Snow Crows have had at them, only the Frozen Gods know what will befall the creatures now.\"\n\n—\n\"That was my intention, sir. I've assigned Calzhor to analyse the birds that have consumed the flesh. Perhaps he will offer us a conclusion for how this outbreak started. If not well, from what I understand, the Snow Crows are becoming even more... Hyperactive, shall we say,\" Nathaniel said as he spied a swarm of the creatures overhead, miles down the border, circling the fires his armies had started to dispose of the corpses. As he focused his hearing, he could listen to the awful, shrill squawks they made, sounding as if they were possessed. Their hunger for flesh was even greater than before. Nathaniel smiled at them as he walked closer to the edge of the cliff. As his ominous gaze went downwards, his expression went from satisfied wonder to... Blissful awe. His face was a blank canvas, almost unreadable. But his empty voids for eyes glistened with an almost orgasmic pleasure as he saw them again. Plastered atop the walls, strung up like animals were the ones afflicted with the illness that tried to enter the Witherlands for asylum. Their carcasses went either east or west across the bordered walls, for as long as the eye could see. \n\n\"The message has been received, my lord. It's time take them down,\" Sir Roland spoke mournfully. \n\n\"No,\" Nathaniel uttered breathlessly, looking at them without blinking. \"They travelled all this way for haven against the disease. I have given them haven.\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nNext to a child, but not in a weird way.\n\nVik giggled softly, actually enjoying the hug for a moment, it was the first since he became who he was.\n\n\"Anything for my friends. In fact Maren, I want you to know that you can call on me whenever you want another gift.\" Vik reached into one of the many pockets within his sleeves and produced a glowing marble that pulsed with a dull swirl of many colors. He had given an identical marble to the Durkhan boy, although he hadn't used it yet.\n\n\"If you break this it'll let me know you want to chat again, and no matter where you may be, as long as you're still on Marin I'll pop up.\" He giggled before holding the magical bead out to the child.\n\n\"Now then, would you like some stew?\" Vik turned to his boiling cauldron that now bubbled with a brown mess of carrots and venison, the white powder he poured in having fully rehydrated by now."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nNext to a Godling, but not in a weird way\n\nMaren carefully took the marble and held it close, pulling up the three shawls, the furs, and Vik's blanket to set it in her dress pocket, secure and hidden from others. \"Thank you...\" She seemed touched, perhaps because he referred to her as a friend.\n\nHer eyes seemed to light up at the sound of food, and she looked.Over at the hot meal with desire. If the Godling spoke of desire, surely he would get a kick out of the innocent longing for a warm meal in her chocolate eyes. She looked back over at him and nodded, she seemed to have the need to actively keep her mouth shut from being ajar with amazement at the mere smell of the simple dish.\n\n\"Is there enough for both of us? I'll have what you don't finish...\" She said respectively, bobbing her head. Larger than a nod, smaller than a bow. She was used to scraps gone cold, but she would hate to be seen as selfish now."
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nThe Witherlands\n\nVik giggled loudly as he pulled two large bowls from his bag.\n\n\"Of course I made enough for two. Besides Maren, I don't get hungry like you do.\" He ladled the chunky soup into each of the bowls and handed one to the child after giving it a small purple fork. Vik decided against the spoon, preferring to just drink the stew from the lip of the bowl. He raised it to the shadowy mouth of his gilded mask, the darkness that prevented his real face from being seen extending out so that his lips could reach the utensil."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWith a purple fork!\n\nPurple was such a rare color to see! She eyed the fork and then immediately drew her attention back to the stew she had been given. She dug in, savoring each bite and sighing, wheezing practically with satisfaction. Oh, her tummy would feel so nice.\n\nShe ate it, munched, and finally, the child smiled a small smile as she felt the warmth spread to every inch of her body. She even wiggled her toes with delight as she chowed down. She looked at Vik eat and became curious about something.\n\n\"Tiny Vik, it seems ya don't take that mask off. What happens when you get a runny nose? Does your mask fill with boogies?\""
}
] | 210 | 1,706 |
99.25 | 2019-10-31 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nI don't know anymore\n\nVik couldn't help but laugh, almost causing the broth to explode through his mentioned nose.\n\n\"You know I've never actually had a running nose, so I couldn't say. But don't worry Maren, I only keep it on in public, I remove it all the time in my Funland.\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands somewhere ocean yes\n\nMaren cocked her head. \"Funland? Where's that?\" She asked inquisitively, watching Vik while eating happily\n\n\"I'd like to go to a place called Funland...\" She smiled slightly at him. \"I guess it's fun then?\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Tiny Vik\nNot in his Funland so that's depressing.\n\nTiny Vik would have squealed if it weren't for the mouthful of stew he was currently swallowing.\n\n\"My Funland is a magical place, hidden in a swamp somewhere in Terresol, it's where all the little Vik followers go to play and make merry. There are games, food, safety, and the biggest bonfire you've ever seen burning day and night.\"\n\nIt wasn't fully what he wanted it to be. Although construction had only recently begun, Vik had hopes to build some combination of holy site and vacation spot, a carnival of church if you will."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nFfffff\n\nMaren's eyes sparkled and wandered as she thought of the magical Funland he spoke of. A big warm bonfire... Food and *Games*! She couldn't think of a single game she'd ever played. She inched forward on her stone and listened to him.\n\n\"Vik, can I live with you in Funland?\" She asked quietly, taking another bite of food. She smiled lightly, watching him eat and talk about his Funland. Her pink fingers warmed against the bowl.\n\n\"Maybe not... It's so far away. But I'll make it there someday!\""
}
] | 100 | 397 |
479.166667 | 2019-11-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "raccoon7396",
"message": "Wybert Easome\nSomewhere in a pine forest, The Witherlands\n\nA small group of men, 4 to be exact, made their way in the deep snow, each armed with a weapon, stolen from a foe slain on some battlefield probably. The leader of the group had strapped a sword to his hip, his cloak hiding his chainmail. The 2 bandits behind him were armed with a axe and a mace, as the one in the back carried an bow and a dozen arrows. One of the bandits, the one with the mace, turned to face the archer, who had stopped. \"What is it? Did ya run out of breath?\" The archer didn't respond, falling forwards, An arrow stuck to his back. As he fell, the bandit could see a man standing behind the his dead comrade, dropping the bow he carried as he pulled out a sword, before vanishing into the dark when the archers torch hit the snow. \"Oh shi- boss, we got trouble!\" Yelled the thief, his 2 remaining friends turning around as well. \"What is it..?\" Said the leader, before he screamed in agony. Their attacker had grabbed the man from behind, driving his sword into his back. The leader fell, the torch falling into the snow. The closest bandit to him swung his axe towards the knight, his attack being blocked before being struck by an armored clove to his face. He staggered backwards before being struck down by a swing of an sword. The last bandit ran, his attacker not chasing after him. Instead, Wybert walked to the now dead archer, picking up his bow, as well as an arrow. He placed armed the bow, pulling back the string, as he kneels down. Then, he released the arrow. Nothing was heard for a moment, but the torch that had belonged to the runaway bandit fell. Then, a blood freezing scream. The arrow had hit its mark. Wybert stood up, taking the rest of the arrows as he vanished into the darkness."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Aleksandr Skagerlly's Study\nGran Stead, The Witherlands\n\nHis study was a skeleton of what it had once been; the claustrophobic space was haunted by the lack of its ghost, the reserved man who locked himself within its walls. Books were deserted, though once loved, evidence by their spines broken. Now they were left in lonely bookshelves to gather dust. Candles unburnt, papers unorganized, sheets dirtied. Aleksandr had escaped in haste, but never had his thoughts drifted from his home, if one could call it that. The garden that lie beneath his tower's watch was no more than an army of wilting shrubs. It seemed as if the foliage had forgotten the flowers it had once bore, and without the cautious hand of their master, they hadn't remembered to survive.\n\nMost important to him was the dear journal abandoned on his desk, front and center for any visitor with wandering eyes. He feared what would happen if a certain prying brother thumbed through some of the scornful entries, the scribbles that detailed the horrible abuse of the Skagerlly dove, that flung unmistakable grief towards the family; it disgusted him to think that they would bear his hate like a crown, to admire.\n\nAleksandr Skagerlly's Journal\n\n*Tonight, in the darkest night of no moon, I danced in the garden. There was no moon to observe, and even the stars grew dim in an inky sky. It was a strange feeling, the night air prickling at my skin; there was something... Free. It almost felt devious, so merrily trotting among the greenery like a wedding dove, in a place where such kindness has been lost. Maybe the Gods above were pitying me.\n\nIt wouldn't come as a surprise.\n\nOnly a few hours ago, my brothers came 'round my place. They always carry trouble with them, and I should've slipped out of the tower when my eyes met theirs. But I couldn't... Move. Not at all. I had shackles that none another than myself could bear witness to. They laughed and cackled. I couldn't find the humor. Then, suddenly, I was struck with understanding; it came in the form of a cruel whip. My skin was on fire. They didn't spare a moment, they hadn't even left my study. After that, I was drug out into the garden, the only place I had to myself. Was it naive of me to make a desperate wish for safety? I would soon answer my own inquiry.\n\nYes.*\n\n*The sun even seemed to turn her eyes away in the coming hours. It began with a crucifix; this was not so bad, not when your skin has become acquainted with the splintered wood and the cruel sting of nails. Pain began to flood my barricades when hot irons were driven into the flesh that barely even manages to stretch across my back. All I could think of was their faces, twisted into some unusual form of pleasure. They kept at it for longer than I expected. It all grew into an extension of the same few moments, and I stopped trying to tell the time. \n\nThat was all they had for me today.\nIt seemed to be afternoon only an hour before, but by then the sun was beginning to sink beneath the horizon. I don't know what they've pressed into my skin now. Do I want to? Whatever crude sort of humor it is, it doesn't matter, it'll just be replaced by a new mockery when the joke dulls to them. I'm just appreciative for their mercy this evening. It wasn't water torture, or amputation, or that blasted fighting that they seem to so enjoy.*"
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Kelsafyr Skagerlly \nSkagerlly home, the Witherlands \n\nKelsafyr fingered the page , her heart painfully tight in her chest; she was not sure what had called her from the comfort of her room to this cold, desolate place but the pull had been urgent, drawing her through the halls with an almost magnetic force.For several minutes upon arriving she stood in the doorway, carefully taking in the place that had been a source of curiosity to her for so long; she was disappointed to find it icy and dark just like so much of the house. The beginnings of a small smile graced her face though as she took in the books that lay scattered across the place- perhaps there was hope for this room yet. \n\nWhen she finally dared to enter, her eyes trailed from the gently loved books to a small journal laying on a desk. Her hands twitched with the desire to open it and allow it's crisp pages to divulge any secrets that it's owner had entrusted it with. Her feet moved of their own accord and suddenly she was at the desk, the notebook in her hands. She glanced over her shoulder once, to be sure that no one was watching, before opening to a page, her eyes consuming the words with a voracious appetite. Not until her eyes had seen the end of the entry did she pull away, her mind turning as she considered what had been written. Her jaw tightened as she thought of the monsters she called family and as she had done so many times before, she made a vow to see them suffer for what they had done.\n\n Curiosity engulfed her as she lightly fingered the pages and stood, wondering where this brother of hers was now. Thoughts of revenge made little room for concern and yet, she could not help but wish to find her brother- protect him, although the notion sounded strange in her mind, considering how little she truly knew about him. She gently tapped the journal, unsure of what her next action should be."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Aleksandr Skagerlly's Journal\nGran Stead\n\nIf Kelsafyr continued to investigate his entries, she would certainly be met with some answers to the inquiries she had about her ever-so-fickle brother, ghastly in nature. Though information about him was scattered throughout the various descriptions of his days, it could certainly be found in abundance. His final diary entry was arguably the most revealing, though he had written it as more of a eulogy.\n\n*My name is Aleksandr Skagerlly. At the time of writing, I am in my early twenties, though I'm not sure of my exact age. I don't expect any eyes to be on this journal beyond my own, yet I feel obligated to explain why I have left this book in great haste. Every journal I have bothered to ink, every tear I have shed while slaving over these entries, have been produced from my heart of hearts. I believe I write to remind myself that I still have one. I haven't felt love in my life. I am a commodity of the Skagerlly house, and men— no, boys— of my sort aren't crafted to feel anything but the deep currents of despair. \n\nI will be leaving at dawn on the morrow. The knight Jax has taken me as his squire. I fear that I have only taken such a role to escape my brothers, and by association my father. Aleksandr isn't a knight, nor is he anything but a desperate line to be thrown when it is advantageous. Despite this, I cannot fail Jax. No, to disappoint him now would be to sentence myself to a fate worse than death; I would cast myself into the depths of self-loathing, though I already bathe in them. \n\nI can only hope to return alive.*"
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Kelsafyr Skagerlly \n Skagerlly Home, the Witherlands \n \n Kelsafyr had been unable to help herself, poring over her brothers writing as though it was a darkened bruise her fingertips could not help but brush, despite knowing the pain it may cause. She had brought the journal with her, feeling more secure reading it within the confines of her bedroom. With every word she read, the fascination and curiosity grew, ensnaring her so deeply that she felt her heart drop as she came to the last entry.. When she finished she allowed the book to remain open in her hands, pondering all that she had read, unfulfilled with the ending. Though she wished to believe that his escape from this place had been successful, she found it hard to believe that anyone might have such luck. Perhaps she could find a way to reach out to him, although it was doubtful he would even wish to speak with her. The very notion of finding him seemed ludicrous and unrealistic to her, and it was not as if she truly had any reason to do so. But she could not deny that the boy intrigued her with his oddness, and his journal had provided a welcome distraction from the monotony of her life. There was no harm in at least trying to find him, even if only to reassure herself that leaving this place was a plausible idea. She shut the journal, finally resolved. Now, if only she knew where to start.."
},
{
"author": "pneumal",
"message": "Aleksandr Skagerlly's Journal\nGran Stead\n\nHis journal was littered with loose papers that had been placed in to mark notable events that had occured. Some were barren, while others were thoroughly blanketed with his ramblings entailing both brutality and quiet acceptance. There was a particular marker, a parchment folded into a dense square, age evidenced by its brittleness. It was clear that this was not meant for anybody's eyes, perhaps even not his own. The splotches on the paper, coupled with the messy scribbling, told a tale of endless grief by themselves.\n\n*I know misery today.\nFeri was an angelic woman of sunkissed skin and freckles, stars across her features; sandy hair that captured the waves of the ocean; emerald eyes that shone in the blackest night; a jingling laugh that told hope and empathy. She was a servant to a tyrant, and my only solace as I joined her beneath his iron fist. I was told he was some duke, not that I would care or wish to remember anything about him. \n\nFeri guided me through bright halls, beaming all the way, telling me tales that painted pictures of knights, of magic, of dragons and kings. When time was able to be stolen, we celebrated and danced like the coming days marked the end of the world. For months, every moment was lived as if it were the last, and I learned joy. We were opening our arms and greeting death in a bohemian dance; servitude became a treat rather than a punishment, but without Feri, it became Hell.*\n\n*Feri had been skipping out on her duties to see me. She'd pressed too far. Stolen. Lied. All so we could merrily march arm in arm. She never exposed her scars, and she was always such a... Rock, to me. But scars did she gather, lining her skin, highlighting every bone that ran in her body; I was so stupid to never recognize the way her sleeves doubled in length. But when they took her out that day, when the sky wept alongside me, it all became terribly true. When we joked about the ending of days tomorrow, I never expected the ending of days to arrive on the wheels of a guillotine. When her head divorced her body, I never expected her to call out for me.\n\nI see her everywhere. Always. The halls are dim. What was her sacrifice for? She gave herself in the name of... Nobody. History will forget Aleks. My grief will never be written in words, nor can it ever be relieved. I don't want to carry on without her. When my eyes meet any weapon, any height, any chemical, they see only a method to join their dearest Feri.\n\nWho knew the word 'Aleks' would become her final communion?*"
}
] | 419 | 2,875 |
475.25 | 2020-01-04 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nOn the road again\n\n\"No, you idiot that's not what I meant!\" The smaller man cursed himself, sending a resounding rap to his knuckles with his heavy oak spoon. He shook the appendage before kissing his knuckles and turning back to his cutting board.\n\nThe oranges he had purchased from the Farensun boy were dwindling, and he had to get rid of them before the rot began to spread through them. The cold was helping, but Noma knew rot to appear when you least expected it. He had 5 left, each worth twice their weight in gold, and he couldn't figure out this fucking garnish.\n\nThree had gone into his stew, a citrus punch to battle the overwhelming gaminess of the salted venison that made up the heart of his dish. Always the resourceful chef, Noma hated wasting food, and had decided to use the peels to create a flaked twirl to top it off, but the damned things weren't curling like he wanted. He glanced up at the small shelf that lined the left side of his wagon, the one adorned with various hour glasses that differed wildly in size and shape. Two were overturned, and the sand in the smallest one was almost completely on the bottom.\n\nHis smile returned as he donned the padded mitts hanging by his door, and he crouched before the small stove he had installed in his enclosed wagon. The hatch lowered to reveal a tray of 6 small loaves of bread shaped like bowls, his handmade trenchers. He began humming the tune to *The Road Goes Ever On* As he pulled them out, and, like a maid in a story book, carried them outside so they might rest to cool.\n\nThe door to his wagon swung open with a light kick and Noma was greeted by the sight of his camp. The bubbling pot of stew, the three small tables, and their accompanying chairs. However he was also greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar, and almost feral looking, woman. Most people would scream or shout at the sight, but Noma only smiled brighter.\n\n\"Ah! A guest! Are you hungry? Dinner is just about finished, please have a seat anywhere.\" His smile was bright as he set the tray on the table nearest his cauldron before wiping his hands on an apron and gesturing to the many chairs he had laid out."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands Roads\n\nThe cold was something that Maren was used to by now. Born in it, lived in it, tortured with it, they were well acquainted. Didn't make her want to leave it any less. \n\nThe shivers had started a while ago, even the furs from tiny Vik had been penetrated by the relentless temperature that seemed to swallow the Witherlands itself. Her joints were aching in the cold, sores from the dry weather in the corners of her mouth and beneath her nose. In fact, her nose had long ago run its course of bleeding and freezing, causing quite a disturbing appearance for the little rat down her chin and neck.\n\nShe had moved from the coast as the frozen waves misted her, causing icicles to form on her hair and clothes. Her insulation had not been enough for the mists to settle in her bones and make it more difficult to move. Every step she thought her toes were going to fall off in her boot, but she had also lost feeling so she couldn't be sure. \n\nThe roads were empty, especially with Nathaniel closing the borders. Where was there to run? She had overheard it while trying to gather warmth from a tavern in a small village, before subsequently being kicked out for being, well, like this.\n\n-\nMaren was already so used to the darkness that the flame in front of her was a shock to the system. People were out in this world! She gasped, but she slowed down and stopped just at the perimeter of the small camp, looking at tbe jolly chef and the woman who seemed to be all over the thought of food. Her body was drawn to the heat she could only see from this distance, and she was afraid once more that they would push her away.\n\nShe was friends with rats, for crying out loud, and was as dirty as one, too. She couldn't help but try. She stuck her hand in her pocket and grabbed the flat rock she had sharpened herself. If anything bad happened, she would be ready.\n\nShe stepped forward, her eyes glowing with the fire's reflection. She was tiny, looked like she had gone through hell, and was shaking like a leaf. She was desperate. Desperate for warmth, and the fire began to provide that as she drew closer to the two."
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire \nWitherland Roads\n\nHunger was the compass in her journey, upturned nose leading her towards the smell of food, not caring where the meal may come from. Though the cartographer had an aptitude for remembering roads, streets, and the like, her ability to remember things that may ease her travels-such as nourishment and supplies- was nonexistent. \n\nPulling the large cloak closer to herself, her figure was made all the more intimidating by the extra bulk of clothing, head seeming almost dwarfish in comparison to the heavy layers she wore. The few people littering the roads were sure to avoid her path, sticking to the sides and whispering quietly upon seeing a woman of such tall stature. Though used to the hushed mutters that often accompanied her presence, Shaye still felt her ears turn pink in embarrassment as she walked, pulling her satchel closer to her in an attempt to hide behind it's safety. \n\nBringing her hands closer to her face, warm air left her lips and caressed her fingertips in an endeavor to keep them from suffering under the harsh elements; truly, the place was unashamedly bitter. Another rumble traveled across her stomach as she finally caught a whiff of the food she so desperately desired. Moving her spindly legs in motions not too unlike a grasshopper, she followed the aroma to a wagon and chairs. Though she caught sight of people, her eyes and thoughts were securely attached to the nutriment. The smell seemed to dangle tantalizingly in front of her, hunger drowning out all other reasoning. The woman stepped forward, eyes wide with pining as she took in the camp in front of her, wondering if the seats were for any wanderer who might happen across them. Her stomach let loose another grumble and she blushed, eyes still fastened somewhat deliriously on the bread that had been set out, *Would they mind terribly if she had a bite to eat?*"
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nWitherland Roads\n\nCatarina froze, mere feet from the fire and a piping hot meal. She was tempted to run for it, but when the man smiled so warmly and offered her seat, she immediately felt guilty. What was she doing? Stealing from someone! And someone that seemed so kind, no less! Everyone was out here just trying to survive, of course, but she of all people didn't deserve to live!\n\nLooking like a child that had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, her cheeks flushed with cold and embarrassment, she stepped away from the fire and said in a trembling voice, \"I... Thank you.\" She took a deep breath, than managed a meager, tired smile and looked around the camp, for the first time noting the three small tables and chairs. Was he expecting guests? Had he mistaken her for someone else? \n\nShe bit her chapped lower lip, already raw and bleeding, then made her way to the table closest to the fire. She could just feel the edge of the warmth coming from the fire, and it was so tempting that she moved the table a bit closer to the fire, though she was careful not to get the dried wood too close to the fire. With the warmth soaking into her bones, she felt a bit more civilized. More human.\n\nWith that humanity came greater guilt. Should she admit that she had come to steal? Should she admit that she was not the guest that he was looking for? Or that she had no way to pay for this meal? By now, all of her possessions of any value had been sold, including the bangles and earrings that were so much a part of her culture's self-expression. \n\nShe pushed such thoughts aside, deciding that it was best to warm herself before admitting something that would get her run off, so instead she started to introduce herself. \"Thank you,\" She said again, \"My name is-\"\n\nShe was interrupted by motion at the edge of the campfire light, with two pairs of eyes glittering back at her. She gasped audibly, reflexively preparing for the worst, when it suddenly dawned on her that this was not some creature, but rather a small child. She gaped at the figure, then stood quickly and said, \"Come over to the fire.\" It wasn't hers to offer, of course, but surely no one would turn away a child! As of yet, she had not noticed the other person that had come to the camp, for the had come from the other direction."
}
] | 486.5 | 1,901 |
394.75 | 2020-01-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nWhere the wagon things are\n\nNoma kept up his smile, it was genuine since Noma hated making a large meal with no one to share it with, and he figured his pack animal, Bertram, was tired of scraps not fit to his diet at all.\n\n\"Come, come! Gather round the fire, you all look freezing!\" Noma gestured to wither side with his arms, beckoning the shadows to take a seat in his encampment. He clasped his hands together and addressed the small clearing.\n\n\"Tonight on the menu is an orange glazed venison stew in homemade trenches. We still have a few moments until it's finished so how about I fix you all something to drink while you wait?\" He beamed with a giggle as he stepped back to the wagon. Just inside door on the stove was a small kettle puffing steam, the scent of apples and spice wafting from it. With a careful hand the chef poured three large mugs of the steaming cider and carried them out in both his hands. With another smile he set the trio on the only occupied table.\n\nA quick glance back and he judged about five minutes left in his hourglass. A nod to himself and he stepped to the large bronze bell hanging just outside his wagon's door. He rang it three times and cupped his hands around his mouth.\n\n\"Come one, come all, dinner is served! All are welcome! Feast yourselves on the wondrous dishes of 'Noma, de Cuisinaire!'\" Satisfied with his broadcast he produced a ladle and stepped to his cauldron. Within a minute he had spooned the trenchers full and began the delicate work of placing his orange swirls on top. Always the artist, Noma was deep in concentration, wanting the presentation to be perfect. The tip of his tongue was protruding from his lips as he gingerly set the garnish on his bowls of stew.\n\nHe took a step back, framing the platter with his fingers before folding his arms, nodding triumphantly, and beckoning to \"Come and get it,\""
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe-Witherlands, in the wilds far from the beaten path\n\nSteady... Steady... \nTaichar's leathery hands notched the arrow carefully. He had been craving this meal for quite a few days and had finally managed to track down game good enough to suffice his hunger. The dark was brutal and he could barely make out the prey he hunted amongst shadows. He brought the drawstring back slowly, pulling the grip where the arrow's tail sat. It had been such a long time since he had seen such beautiful rabbits around this time of year. The trees murmured secrets as he focused his trained eyes upon his prize. He sat crouched behind a collective of bushes and shrubs. The only noteworthy cue that someone was within the bush was the arrowhead that barely protruded from the parted twigs. \n\nHe let go of the arrow. It cut through the air like a jackknife, spiraling with deadly intent as it came careening for the oblivious little creature. It struck. Like a virus, the arrow's point dug into the creature and sent it skidding upon such a tremendous impact. Taichar untangled himself from the mess of the bush and walked up to claim the target. He knelt down and picked up the rabbit by the shaft of the arrow. Its body clung around the flint arrowhead as it was carried, swinging leisurely with every step that the nomad took. The moonlight warped the trees around him into specters that clawed for his attention, wind whistling lowly through the thin canopies overhead. It was misting gently and the fire of his camp waned in and out of life.\n\nThere was a clearing he had set up camp at. His tent, a white tarp woven from linen cloth stretched around a wooden ribcage on a wheel that could be closed up and easily carried by a horse or even a man. At the center of the clearing was a pit surrounded by stones and caked in ash. Embers breathed shallowly beneath mounds of blackened stumps. Above that was a rickety splint set on wooden poles, at the base being a rod of iron he had invested in with a few hours of manual labor and tedious bartering. He shook the rabbit off the arrow and tossed the arrow aside. He could always wash it later.\n\nThen, he sat upon a smoothened rock close to the pit and withdrew his knife. He had to skin the rabbit before he could eat it. Birds chirruped amongst one another and the woods he was within was comfortably quiet. Sometimes, it was quite nice to be alone. He did on occasion think about the last time he had a conversation with someone that wasn't within a trading post or talking amongst roaming patches of herdsman. His mustache twitched as he licked his lips— they were dry. He set the rabbit upon a small square of bloodied cloth with a few other small rabbit carcasses upon it that he had managed to scrounge today.\n\nThere was a black iron kettle hanging upon the splint above the firepit. He lifted it by its wooden handle and raised his mug. Another one of his prized possession, a brass and wooden mug with wonderfully intricate engravings in the brass and carvings within the wood of winds and storms. He poured a delicate portion of the kettle's priceless contents into the mug. An elixir of herbal life. Not quite— but it was a pleasant tea. He set the mug down and lifted the least recent of rabbits he had hunted. Its body slumping in his large hands. How bountiful, how divine of a night this was."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\n\n\"Remain still. We won't shoot unless we have to.\"\n\nGeneral Wendy Margir and her mini platoon of soldiers emerged from the woodwork, clad in all black instead of wearing their usual house colors. A few of them rode on horses, the general herself included.\n\nWhile her small group of about six men had arrows notched and trained on the man admiring his kill by the fire, she remained without, her demeanor composed. She wasn't worried. He seemed harmless.\n\n\"Which house do you fight for?\" She asked, pulling her reins close to her to guide her horse to a stop. She was standing in front of the man now, her blue eyes gently illuminated by the fire, even at her distance. She had her hood up, and a protective mask about her face, so her words were slightly muffled.\n\nThis was the work that, while necessary, made her the most on edge. In her estate, and in the land that House Carter still lorded over without question, she rarely needed to be so vigilant. Out here, close to the border, she was an outsider. _That will change soon,_ she thought to herself. But even now, she and her men had been traveling without anything that could brand them as enemies of Vivayn. It could easily be a death sentence.\n\nThis man before her didn't seem to be more than just a simple nomad. Which, would be helpful, for what she was hoping to do."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\n\nTaichar's eyes barely moved away from the fire upon hearing her voice. His shoulders hunched up slightly and his brows knitted into one another, threading around each other, shifting uneasily while his brain whirled and he counted the bows pointed at him once he finally found it in him to look at the men. What was he in trouble for now? Enjoying some rabbits? Maybe this was a warden looking for some rogue. He always had to be careful in these trying times. Then, he glanced up and met the general's radiant blue eyes. His face was battle-hardened and his eyes scarred with the loss of many lives, although his neutral smile was approachable.\n\n\"I am Taichar-Yu. I serve no house. I did, if you could call it a house, for all of my life until a few months back— but now I am not one for these diplomatic affairs, you see. These fine clothes came from a clan that has since dissolved and I roam these lands alone.\" He calmly stated. He reached for his belt, pulling an intimidatingly big hunter's knife crafted of splinted and sharpened bone tied to an iron handle wrapped in leather strappings. He sunk the blade delicately into the rabbit, the reflection of its body dancing in his eyes as he worked and spoke gently. \"I do not see the bow like I once did. A weapon of wrath is now a source of life. These rabbits have walked, breathed, and died to feed me, and they will once be born anew. Understandably so.\"\n\nHe paused to contemplate his words, not for her sake but for his own. He had no idea what was going on. \"And who do you serve, miss? I see you have quite a company with you.\" He gored the hair away from the flesh body of the rabbit, peeling the fur away from it with his fingertips. He worked quietly and treated the rabbit, even in death, with dignity, being sure to softly lay the fur down to where the bloodied skin would dry in the warmth of the flames. \"It has been quite some time since I have been asked such a question. Would you care for a bit of rabbit? There's plenty to share.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": ". As Taichar-Yu reached for his belt, the sound of bowstrings tightening rippled throughout the half circle of soldiers accompanying Wendy. Her perpetual frown deepened slightly, and she held up her hand. She kept it there, watching curiously as he skinned the rabbit with such care. She'd never seen a man of his stature so gentle. And his name sounded so.. Foreign. Just who was he?\n\n\"No.. Thank you,\" She said, wincing slightly at the sound of the rabbit's flesh peeling. \"We have our own food. I assume you aren't ill?\"\n\nBy now, she knew the signs of the plague. He didn't exhibit any of them. Even the psychosis was pretty well ruled out. He spoke in a strange way, but a person being a little weird didn't make them sick. \n\nMost times.\n\n\"I serve the rightful ruler of The Witherlands. That is all you need to know,\" She said, dismounting. At her movement, the group of men lowered their bows and stood at ease, waiting and watching. Wendy stepped forward, closer to the fire, lowering her mask slightly. \"I won't interrupt your meal long. I just have a few questions.\""
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\nHe hummed in amused shock at such a question. He was completely unaware of the plague— but he had seen odd signs within animals of the wilds. Their blood blackens and their eyes seem to become tinged with an odd sort of visceral quality, like air pockets are within them. He smiled and shook his head. \"No. No, I am not ill. May you please tell me why you ask such a question?\" He asked.\n\nHe nodded slowly. \"Ah. You serve the Witherlands? I am unopinionated, may you come from any corner of this strange, strange world; you are human. Therefore, you are an equal.\" He said in a rather pointed fashion. He set the skinned rabbit down stood slowly before he curiously looked at the men around the camp. He had never met a party such as this and looked baffled by their attire as they were of his. In the dire lighting with his bloodied hand and taut face, he looked like a crazed man what had gotten done dismembering a wild creature. \n\nTaichar moved swiftly away from them and vanished into the tent. From outside of the tent, the canvas-white of the tarp stretched around the tent's ribs, he could be seen moving around and filing through things in dim lighting before the light went out and he stepped out of the tent. He was holding a deep iron wok with two cable handles to it attached to heavy iron hooks. He sat down in front of the fire and set the wok upon the splint. Only then did he look back at the General. \"Go on. Please, help yourself to a seat if you would like— the same with your men. I am more than happy to talk.\" He chuckled and wavered at her with both hands in a gesture of 'oh, stop it, you.' \"You're not interrupting anything. Do not say such a thing.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\n\n_He must not know about the war going on. Better for him, that way. Still.. How secluded is he?_ \n\nHer eyes narrowed as she saw him get up. He seemed nervous, almost, even with how articulate his speech was.\n\n\"There's a sickness going around. It's deadly,\" Wendy said. \"You haven't heard of it?\"\n\nThat seemed odd. She figured he might've been alone because of it. Gossip also spread fine without being connected directly to a town or village..\n\nShe tensed was he moved to his tent. Was he trying to run away? Her men lifted their arrows again, still on edge with being so far from home. \n\nThey all relaxed, though, when he returned, eager as he seemed to have some company. She sighed, folding her arms across her abdomen. He wasn't a threat. Just a little... Off.\n\n\"At ease, everything's all right,\" She said, sighing and sitting down by the fire. She pulled off her hood, revealing her sun-kissed hair, looming bright red in the light of the fire. The other men settled, but didn't move to sit, leaning up against the trees and crouching among the bushes.\n\nWendy laughed to herself a little bit. \n\n\"You'll have to forgive them. They're good at their jobs,\" The general said, staring at the pot. She frowned, observing it carefully. \"I've never seen a dish like that before.. Why is it shaped that way?\"\n\nSome small talk wouldn't hurt, to make the atmosphere more comfortable. She hoped."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\n\n\"I wasn't aware of such a sickness, but that does explain the odd meat that hunters I have spoken to at trading posts have spoken of. Blackened flesh covered in mucus and hollowed eyes that look like pits. I have heard many terrible tales— but a plague? Nobody had said such a thing.\" He said in quiet shock. He sat in silence for a moment and took a slow sip from his mug before he lifted the rabbit's fur. There was a skimming of fat along the skin still attatched to it, taking the knife and cleanly scooping off about a teaspoon of it. \"Heh. Must be a good eating season for these guys, all of them are quite chubby.\" He commented.\n\nHe tapped the knife upon the edge of the wok and smiled in comforted satisfaction as the fat hissed. He sprinked a bit of sweetroot into the oil and some cracked peppercorns before laying the skinned rabbit within the pan. From a small sack next to the unskinned rabbits he produced a fingerful of salt and tossed it generously into the wok. It all smelled divine, the raw bloodied smell dissipating and being replaced with a mildly sweet and slightly savory smell. \n\nHe glanced at the men lurking around the camp and shrugged. \"Doesn't bother me. Normally, I would be beyond scared, but I feel oddly fine.\"\n\nWhen he looked back at the general and saw that she had taken her hood down, his face had eased and the wrinkles in his skin ironed to produce a more genial and exotic foreign looking man then the wrinkled nomad before— the true cleanliness of his skin and clarity of his eyes showing true as he smiled softly and looked back to the wok. \n\n\"This? It's... It's a very shallow pot. I bargained for it with some boar tusks and a silver chalice I found when hiking for spices one morning. I believe it's of Zhia Lou origins. You know, the people of the Silver Dragon. I have never met one of them but all of them are renowned cooks and heralds.\"\n\nHe used his hunting knife to skewer the rabbit and shuffle it around in the bubbling fat, coating it in the root and pepper mixture. The smell seemed to intoxicate himself and his eyes grew low-lidded as he stared at the meat. \"I have met a Rong G'ah Shieetet before, a member of a group of people that live close to the Zhai Lou. They have these types of pots too but are more bowl-shaped.\" \n\nHe said with a dreamy sigh. Most nomads were purposeless wanderers, but he was a careful listener and apparently paid close attention to his world. That, or he was a remarkably good liar."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"The Zhai Lou...\" Wendy murmured, clearly only following by a hair. She glanced up, catching the eyes of one of her men who lurked in the shadows. He gave a shrug, just as clueless as she.\n\n\"That's... Interesting. You seem to be a man of experience,\" The general said, deciding that this explanation was as good as any for the odd things she'd observed thus far. It was fascinating, really, to see a person like him here. He looked as if he were plucked from a story book. The own tales that he spun about the people and things he'd encountered could be a book all on its own.\n\n\"You mentioned.. 'odd meat.' People are still hunting and eating animals who look that way?\" The general asked, seeming a big alarmed at such a thought. \"This sickness has lasted for a month now, or so. It spreads quickly, and no one has found a good treatment or cure. I have my own reasons for wanting to know what things are like back here, but... Aside from quelling personal inquiries, I'm on a mission. Can you tell me anything else you've seen?\"\n\nThis man seemed trustworthy enough. In the light like this, he didn't seem as haggard. It almost felt as if his face had smoothed out entirely. She frowned, watching him carefully."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu \nOutskirts of the Witherlands.\n\nA cold chill of wind passed over the camp and Taichar huddled into his coat, shivering as he flipped the hunk of rabbit with a resounding crackled of fats and searing meat. The smell only grew stronger and he took to taking a long drink from his mug in order to regain the lost warmth. He nodded. \"Yes. I have seen many things and been to many places in my lifetime.\"\n\nHe listened to her talk and nodded again to confirm he was listening. \"Yes. People still eat the meat before becoming sick themselves. Not everyone does, but only the desperate of those that I have spoken to.\" He sniffled and took another sip from the mug before setting it upon his lap and cradling the warm vessel with his cold fingers. \"I was passing through a tiny little hunter's camp pitched in Azarya, just outside of Breaker's Way. There was a little shack on the way out from the camp, maybe three-hundred or four-hundred steps with barely anyone in it besides a single priest and piles and piles of dead bodies. All of them rotting... A sick, sick smelling rot. They burned the shack after the priest had doused it in holy water and recited some prayers.\" He looked stone-faced as he recollected on the memory. \n\nHe looked at her and away from the cooking rabbit.\n\n\"I have never seen such despair in the eyes of someone like there was in that priest. How it must feel to know a God has abandoned you that way.\" He looked her directly in the eyes as he said it, slowly. He looked back to the fire and shook his head in remorseful dread. \"The last I heard, the priest died within the walls of Breaker's Way, heard the word from one of the fletchers at the camp. Sad.\" He said with a sigh. The atmosphere grew stark and yet his face retained the same smoothened clay look.\n\nHe clenched the mug in his hand, taking the kettle off the splint and pouring a little to warm up his draught."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands Roads\n\nHer numb fingers gripped her cloak as she stepped forward towards the warmth of the fire. The signal from the two that she was welcome was all she needed to know. If she was welcome now, she would ride it out until they realized she wasn't worth it. She walked past the chairs and table, even past the food, and took a seat on the ground as close to the fire as possible. \n\nHer hair was a ratted mess, covered in ice and dirt from her journey. Her ugly scabbed face relaxed at the fire's warmth. She pulled her hands out of her pockets and held them up, her fingers a sickly white as they had all lost feeling a while ago. She stuck her feet out towards the fire, too, shuffling her boots off and holding out her bare toes. They were the same, on the cusp of frostbite. She didn't make eye-contact with any of them as she sat there.\n\nShe thought to herself. *What nice people. They remind me of a Mamma and Poppa.* She kept her eyes trained on the fire, doing what she could to hide her dirty face in the cloaks she was wrapped with."
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire\nWitherland Roads\n\nThe towering woman did not hesitate when invited to the fire- unaware of whether or not the man was even referring to her but too starving to care. Bounding over, she placed herself at the table- so enraptured by the idea of food that any other thoughts fled from her mind. \n\nWhen the stranger offered them the warm cups of heaven, she quickly indulged herself, trying to savor the feeling of comfort that spread through her as she sipped on the drink. Her stomach grumbled as the wonderful aroma teased her hunger and she launched herself up with all the grace of an elephant as he announced that food was served; it took every ounce of self control to motion that the other two guests help themselves first— unable to eradicate the guilt she felt when looking at the small child. *What was the poor thing doing out here by herself?* \n\nShe glanced at the chef who had prepared the meals for them, voice drifting down from her towering frame in a small whisper, \"Thank you.\""
}
] | 373.5 | 4,737 |
386.25 | 2020-01-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nThe literal opposite of Australia rn\n\nHis work wasn't done yet. After seeing the first two women scarf down their meals he made the solid judgement that more was definitely needed. A quick step into his wagon was all it took and before long he had the next tray or trenchers baking away in his mini oven, he had planned to save the dough for a pie crust but it had been a day or two since he checked on his fruit basket and he wouldn't be able to make one large enough with the scraps left over. The next meal he needed to make took far less participation, however and he was thankful. There were stacks of covered hay on the side of his cart, Noma grabbed one now and whistled loudly to the clearing. A moment passed before the sound of a bell could be heard called by a deep lowing. Bertram, came lumbering from the brush he had made his napping spot, the thought of food enticing the large ox awake long enough to approach. Noma set the small bale in front of his companion and patted the small patch of fur between his horns.\n\n\"Eat, then rest, old sport. You did a fantastic job today.\" Bertram was more than a pack animal, he was Noma's companion.\n\nThe jolly chef examined his guests before taking a moment to sigh, another successful night was well on the way. This is what Noma did.\n\nYears ago, nearly a lifetime, the smaller figure could be found working the fields in the south of Ibethiel, tending radishes, potatoes, and cabbages. He always had a habit to help other living things grow, and when the report came in that the government was collapsing, the young man decided he would be more helpful on the road. So he packed up his wagon with as much food as he could, strapped his plow ox into a new harness, and set out into the vast unknown to give people on the road some comfort of home.\n\nNoma went to the assortment of items that clung to the outside of his mobile shack. With a small groan he hoisted a large rocking chair down. Carrying it close to the fire he smiled towards the child that sat there.\n\n\"Mind if I sit here?\" He set his chair down before relaxing into it with a happy sigh. He grinned constantly, before pulling a long stalk of wood from an inside vest pocket. He reached into a pouch at his waist and pinched off some sweet tobacco he always had a case of. His fingers pushed the plant into the acorn that made up his pipe's bowl, as his second hand pulled a small pool of wick free. He lit one end of the wick and held it above his pipe tenderly.\n\nSmoke billowed out of his mouth and he hummed at the sweet cherry flavor that accompanied it, surrounded by the fog lighting his pipe created."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nCold place\n\nMaren had finally begun to feel the defrosting of her fingertips happen, and she watched as the chef pat his friend the ox. She watched intently. She liked animals and watching the Ox listen so well and munch on the hay made her want to give it a hug. She liked hugs. She was quite clingy, actually.\n\nSo she welcomed Noma's intrusion on sitting next to her in the chair, looking up at him with her very sweet doe-like eyes. She was of course quite dirty and blistered, but there was still a sense of cuteness in that stare she gave him. She slipped on her shoes and stood up shakily, walking over to the pot on the fire and smelling it. She finally grabbed a bowl herself, not even a full ladle full but she wasn't the best at maneuvering the utensils. She shuffled back to Noma and sat down at his feet, smelling the tobacco that he had begun to smoke through his pipe. It was comforting.\n\nShe took a sip of her food and she sighed. It was so good! She smiled a little and took another bite. She wondered if this was all real. It didn't feel like it. Kindness was foreign to her.\n\nShe looked over at the tall woman and raised her eyebrows. They were like opposites. She bet that the lass was beautiful hiding underneath all those robes. Although Maren thought only good things, it mostly just looked like she was starting at her."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\n\nDancing fire warmed the wok and sent sparks of hot grease flying. The nomad watched carefully for a while longer before he suddenlt stood up and moved like a spectre to the tent, ghostly vanish as he simply disappeared for several minutes. \n\nHe came back with an armful of things. A wooden plale, two blankets made of stitched wolfskins and an unheard of device: a flesh fork. He sat back down and wrapped himself in a blanket before holding one out to the general. The stitches, visible on the underside of the blanket, were masterful and cautiously done in red thread.\n\n\"I would agree. There are some places man had no right in being. This is horrible... I saw the signs but just didn't know the plague was this bad.\" He mumbled softly. He listened and batted a brow. \"Why.. No, I don't think I have. I've only met a handful of runaways out here and none of them were visibly sick.\" He stated passively.\n\nHe skewered the rabbit from the wok and brought the piece of meat to the plate on his lap, carefully cutting the tender rabbit. It was a medium-rare, borderline medium cook. The smells were poisonously attractive to him, but the meat would be too hot. He set the plate by the fire to let it cool. Taichar moved the wok and kettle slightly down the splint to make room for more rabbit. \n\nWhile he waited on his meal to cool, he lifted another rabbit and slowly started to skin it. The hunter must be as calm as he is cautious and as silent as he is aware. He smiled to himself. \n\"I am quite happy you came to talk, even if it's not the happiest of topics. What are you doing out here... By the border? Some special intelligence mission?\" He asked with a playful and modestly untimely chuckle."
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire\nWitherland Roads\n\nThe gangly woman was finally satisfied, the warm meal like a gentle embrace after a hard days work. Beginnings of a smile worked their way across her face as she sighed in delight—this had truly been the best meal she'd had in a very long time. Normally they consisted of whatever scraps she had managed to toss together and that certainly didn't have the same appeal.\n\nBriefly she wondered if the man found his calling in cooking just as she discovered hers in drawing. Truthfully, the flavors within the meal could be considered an art form and he had carried it out with such care. He was gifted, a magician working wonders with food. She almost envied the chefs talent, her own skills at crafting meals were mediocre at best.\n\nThe tall woman sighed and for a blissful moment considered what it might be like to eat so well on a regular basis. Her stomach rejoiced at the very thought, even as she shook her head at the absurd notion. What would a complete stranger want with an almost 7' woman? Perhaps in the event that he needed fruit that was up high—she cut herself off as a chuckle built up in her chest. What a ridiculous thought. \n\nHer mind suddenly faltered at the feeling of eyes on her, and she looked up to see the child staring thoughtfully; immediately Shaye's cheeks turned pink, *I bet I look like a towering monster to her.* \nThe Cartographer swallowed and slowly raised her hand, offering a shy wave. *Hopefully this doesn't scare her..*"
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nWitherlands Road\n\nShe observed her new companions, still seated on the rough-hewn bench at a table all to herself. The little girl looked to be doing better, now that she had warmed herself by the fire and indulged herself in the meal. The towering woman seemed friendly enough, and Cat couldn't help but smile a little bit when she waved at the child. The chef, meanwhile, seemed as bubbly and warm as the stew he created. He was certainly an incredible cook, and Catarina was grateful to him for the meal, although she had a feeling it wouldn't end well when he found that she had no way to pay for it. \n\nFor now, however, she indulged herself, scarfing down the meal with almost disturbing efficiency. In just a few minutes, everything was gone, from the trencher to the orange peel garnish. She really had been starving, quite literally. After finishing, she rose from her seat and cupped the cider in her hands once more. It had cooled considerably in the chill of a Witherlands night, but it still gave off a little bit of warmth. She was touched by the shivering child, a pang of loss for her own filling her, and she was overcome by a sense of generosity.\n\nAs she approached the fire, she removed the blanket that she had been using as a makeshift cloak and draped it over the child. She gave Maren a little smile, then said warmly, \"This should help keep you a little warmer, at least. What's your name? Mine is Catarina, but my friends call me Cat.\" She looked to their host and smiled at him as well, adding, \"Thank you again for the wonderful meal, Mr...\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe outskirts of the Witherlands\n\nWendy hesitated, but nodded her thanks as she took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. This was not like her, to accept generosity from strangers. However, she refused to show her embarrassment, especially in front of her subordinates.\n\nThe woman cleared her throat and continued looking into the fire, sighing. It was hard, to pinpoint where all of this was coming from. Her little sister always paused in times like these to ask 'why,' but Wendy could never stomach those conversations. They always veered into spiritual, metaphysical tangents that she just couldn't believe.\n\nHer father had received word that the sickness all started in Ibethiel. _And they just couldn't keep it to themselves, could they. Idiots,_ she thought, her frustration showing as the muscles in her jaw tightened, her teeth clenching together in her mouth. She'd focus her anger there, while she could. Human targets were much easier to manage.\n\nThe only silver lining she could find, was that the sickness could've possibly weakened Vivayn's forces. And if that were the case, the next phase of her mission would hopefully run smoothly.\n\n\"It is probably best that you don't know,\" Wendy said, her expression not softening in the slightest, in response to his lighthearted laugh. \"I wouldn't want you wrapped up in what we're doing. You seem to keep to yourself well, but on the off chance that my tracks lead to you, I don't want to bring harm. Please understand.\"\n\nShe sighed and glanced up at the man still waiting by the trees, listening to their conversation. He shook his head, holding up his hand and tapping his wrist.\n\nWendy focused her gaze back on Taichar-Yu.\n\n\"Things have been quiet. That's good, at least,\" Wendy said. She looked over at the nomad's tent, curiosity piquing her. \"You mentioned a clan, correct? And yet you're alone. Did something happen to them?\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nCold\n\nMaren waved back as awkwardly as the lengthy woman had, bowl in her other hand. She knew she shouldn't look at people too long, and she looked away and back into the fire. She ate another bite, her eyes flickering with the reflection of warmth.\n\nShe paused mid-chew as Cat approached, throwing the blanket around her. She looked up, slowly finishing her bite. She didn't even know why the lady bothered. The cold was relentless, and now cloak or blanket could keep the little child warm. She was already swallowed in frost covered furs, but she didn't stop her, either. Just watched.\n\nWhen a name was prompted she paused, looking up at Cat with a wary stare. \"Maren.\" She whispered. She wouldn't say her last name, no way. They weren't going to send her back to her family. She took another bite. \"How do you do.\" She said with a curt nod. It was very polite, but she took another bite while they were having a conversation."
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire \nSitting by a fire in the Witherlands\n\nShaye shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to find a more agreeable position as she slowly inched closer to the fire. Self consciously she crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on the fire; ears picking up on the conversation happening near her. So much of her wished she could be that confident and outright speak to a stranger, but her mouth turned dry at the prospect. What would she say? What if they didn't wish to speak to her? What if she said something stupid?\n\nThere were too many uncertainties in talking— a road she could never seem to navigate. So instead she stayed quiet, hoping not to make an idiot of herself, should someone address her."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Wildlands\n\nFirm belief lasted generations within the nomadic tribes he spoke so fondly of and could recollect on with ease— generosity and kindness was a given, but gladly acceptable whenever offered. It was rare to refuse gifts and aid in his culture and he would have been relatively upset if she had done so. \"I hunted these wolves myself, all in separate days of course. It's quite a lot of wolf.\" He commented.\n\nHe sat in silence while he parred the fur away from the flesh body of the rabbit. He laid the fur down upon the cloth and slowly laid the rabbit close enough to the fire to where it would dry. He would properly lay them out when the sun was shining and treat them with salt before the meat would eventually go bad. He murmured, \"Understandable. I didn't know it was a personal affair. I doubt someone like me would be tied to somebody like you.\"\n\nHe looked over as he felt her gaze. His face had gradually turned from the tense and uneased wrinkles of dried cowhide to smoothened and youthful skin, genial eyes and a gregarious little smile as he looked at her. He followed her gaze to the tent and back.\n\n\"I did mention a clan. The Yuehaie. Son of Elder Dhou-Tu. I was second in line to becoming the clan elder before we were raided during a violent rainstorm by a neighboring clan. We had feuded with them over ancestral burial grounds and on multiple occasions fought; it was an act of revenge. They broke into every tent, every storehouse and slaughtered the last soul down to the ground that they stood upon. It was unjust and incredibly cruel, clan code dictates no such violence outside times of peace. It was just before our best harvest moon.\" He recollected in surprising calm. His eyes grew glassy and they closed as he turned his head away in a moment of vulnerability.\n\n\"I have no living relatives besides those that mixed with other clans during emigrational seasons; so essentially they are untraceable. I am alone. I am the last of my people; and I am terrified. I am not terrified of what will happen to me; but they say that the moment that someone is forgotten, that is when they truly die. My legacy and my people's legacy will be lost upon my passing and the Yuehaie will be no more than a word upon pallid lips, and through my memory they are kept alive.\"\n\nHe paused uneasily and looked at the men around the camp. They probably thought he was a madman at this point but he seemed unscathed by their watching eyes. He looked back to the general. \"It's funny that way. You spend so much time building an empire that you forget the ones destroying, and the moment you climb to the top there's no way to come down without falling.\"\n\nHe spoke in the same unwavering calm. He gulped uneasily and his eyebrows lowered fiercely before going slack. With shaken hands, he reached for his mug. He did not cry; but he looked on the verge of silent, wistful tears."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nCatarina smiled at the little girl beside her and replied, \"It's nice to meet you, Maren.\" She took a sip of her cider, turning her gaze into the flames as she sensed the child's unease. She didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable or threatened in any way, and Cat had found that, in general, disinterest made those who felt threatened settle down.\n\nShe turned her attention to the gangly woman that was easing closer to the fire, smiling at her as she said, \"And you? What's your name?\" She tried to appear warm and inviting, but she had little doubt that, with everything she had been through in the past months, she must look rather frightening! The cold had sapped her energy, leaving dark circles under eyes, and the lack of food had left her gaunt, her skin stretched over the bones so that she had the look of a corpse, almost. She hoped she didn't look too much like a skeleton leering at them when she smiled."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe outskirts of the Witherlands\n\nThe general frowned, listening to the tale with nothin short of reverence. Being back at court, having to surround herself with diplomacy and the like, always seemed to drain her energy more than fighting did. This was part of the reason why she enjoyed being away. Chasing down traitors and bandits brought its own sort of fun— _especially_ when she was designated to interrogate them.\n\nHowever, it was the freedom of the icy plains that were truly invigorating. The absolute dominion she felt, when she was hunting down a foe, with nothing in her way besides a snowy hill and a treacherous wind.\n\nWhat she'd also always found to be interesting was the people. She'd _heard_ of clan folk, groups who decided to live off of the land and abide by a different code of life. But she'd never actually _seen_ a person claiming to be a part of one. She'd thought most of them to be children's tales. And so, she could resonate with the melancholy this particular nomad exuded. \n\nHis entire life was about to become nothing more than a tale to be told. And he wasn't anywhere near being old. That must've been a lot to handle. Alone. She felt guilty, almost, for being so disgruntled about not being with her family. At least they were alive.\n\n\"I am sorry, that you've experienced this,\" She finally said. She ignored the shuffling of her men, growing restless on their watch, and surely thinking they should have well been on their way to the nearest village by now. \"While I am a glutton for delivering punishment, I am afraid I'm not authorized to meddle in dealings like these, between.. Clans. Though, I doubt that revenge is what you seek.\"\n\nShe glanced away from him, rubbing her chin slightly. Her glove was warm, from where they had been nuzzled between her legs. She breathed out a puff of air. \n\n\"Do you plan on simply living this way? You could start another life, you know,\" She said. She was just dangling the idea in front of him now, seeing how he might respond to it. She was curious."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Wildlands\n\n\"Do not pity me and do not feel sorry— that is the last thing I want. Clan rivalries and feuds are nothing short of ordinary in this way of life. I am fully aware and I accept that reality; there is nothing to gain in denying the truth.\" He bluntly stated. \n\nFor a nomad, one would likely assume to be rather unintelligent and brutish, but it was hard to see that he was a man of noble blood. For his frosted and somewhat dirty clothes, his hardened face and vigilant eyes, he was a wise and mostly merciful man with many experiences in his life. He had seen and heard much, his mind a sail that pushed forwards a heavy brigade of wonders, cutting swiftly through the waters of unknown oceans.\n\n\"There is no meddling to be done at this point, and you stand correct. I do not seek revenge. Being subject to such horrors made me realize something: I seek truths and wonders; I seek purpose in this world. I want to see things, meet people, and talk. Talk about my life— *Their* Lives and *Their* Passions.\" He spoke slowly and the glassiness soon left from his eyes as he entertained an idea; riding through the frosted steppes with a mass of people, carrying their bannisters and drums and wagon after wagon of supplies. An adventure! This was an adventure, but he craved the comfort of family.\n\nHe raised an eyebrow at the general as she spoke. By this point, the rabbit was well cooled. He set the mug down and exchanged it for the plate of rabbit, picking it up thankfully and taking a few mannered but excited bites. A flash of familiarity raced through his eyes and his smile wavered, passing a soft grunt of pleased delight on tasting the rabbit. He chewed and swallowed as he thought on the question before he slowly shook his head. \n\n\"I cannot live this way forever. I need to continue my legacy. If I keep living this way, I need people, and by everything in me I have tried to find those that will join me. I would love a new life with more people, raising my own clan and caring for people I love. Supporting the weak, bolstering the strong, having a home of my own. Wouldn't it be great?\" He said dreamily. He considered offering the general some rabbit and it was obvious in his face that he wanted her to have some, but she had refused already so he avoided asking."
}
] | 381 | 4,635 |
344.777778 | 2020-01-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nCold\n\nIt seemed like they were all a little frightening, but Maren didn't mind. She was worried about the lady named Cat eating so fast. That was all. She ate her small amount, slowly, allowing herself to savor every bite. She liked this Chef's food. It took a little moment before she finally looked up at Catarina and piped up again, her small voice barely carrying over the crackling fire.\n\n\"If you eat too fast you'll get sick.\" She said with a nod at both of them. She took another bite, chowing down with obvious appreciation, but meticulous execution. \"Or too much. It is better to... Uh. Not?\" She couldn't think of a word to describe her meaning. \"Go slow.\" She finished with a curt nod. She then looked at Shaye again. She wondered if she was strong."
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire\nWitherland Roads\n\nThe Cartographer blushed as attention shifted to her and the tall woman immediately attempted to tuck her head; taking a deep breath, she answered in a voice shockingly soft for her stature, \"Shaye\" \n\nThe woman's fingers began to tap— her name, at least, was something she couldn't mess up. Red flooded to her ears once more as the child looked at her, and with every shed of confidence, Shaye offered a small smile. *Hopefully that doesn't scare her.*"
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nWitherlands Roadside\n\n\"Nice to meet you, Shaye,\" Catarina replied with a warmth that was reflective of her homeland, so different from the bitter chill of the north. Granted, the north would be her grave, most likely, and she would face the end alone at the edge of the world. Still, she silently thanked the gods that had cursed her that they had seen fit to bless her with companions along the way. Even in this frozen wasteland, she somehow managed to stumble across people who were giving and kind, when they often had very little, just as she did. \n\nShe smiled at Shaye, finding her reprimanding rather adorable, and nodded in agreement. \"You're right,\" She replied. \"I forgot my manners. I'm sorry.\" She rose from her seat and went around to the small pile of firewood, scooped up a log, and added it to the fire as she continued chatting. \"I have a little girl too. About your age, probably. Her name is Mireli, though everyone calls her Miri for short.\" She was mainly talking to Maren, but in truth she was talking to anyone who would listen. It had been so long since she has last had contact with anyone that she was dying for a bit of conversation! She scooped up a large stick and used it to push the other logs in the fire closer together, hoping to make the fire burn a little warmer. Sparks shot up into the sky as she poked around in the fire. Hopefully she could spark up a conversation as well!"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe outskirts of the Witherlands\n\nAs he spoke, the general watched him intently. She was holding back a smirk, but a small tug on her lips still betrayed her secondhand delight at seeing this man yearn for more. She was a woman of ambition, herself. And though she usually preferred her own goals over those of both peers and underlings, there was something about this nomad's story that interested her. Perhaps it was the carnal side of her, wanting to take a sorry man and exploit him for her own gain. Even she could admit that her motive, and next question, was at least somewhat connected to that sadistic part of her.\n\n_But_ , she was also willing to believe that she genuinely wanted to offer this burned clansman a better outlet for his prowess. There was no doubt that he was strong. And they'd all seen him hunt. He had skills, and they deserved to be used for more than just hunting. So, her next statement was obvious.\n\n\"It _would_ be great,\" Wendy said, leaning forward. Her gaze wasn't as passive as it had been while they were making small talk. They were now alight with desire. \"If I'm being honest, I think that I could use a man like you, Taichar. You're strong. Capable enough to brave these elements alone. Your life of justice would easily suit my cause to see the Witherlands united under the house that is most deserving.\"\n\nWendy leaned back for a moment, slightly shrugging her shoulders. \n\n\"I have access to resources that could help you build up your clan, again. I would only require that your loyalty remain pledged to me.\"\n\nShe ignored the men watching them, sensing their unease. _I know what I'm doing,_ she thought to herself, hardly able to contain her anticipation.\n\n\"Join me,\" She finally said. \"If you are seeking purpose, I have plenty to give you.\""
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Wildlands\n\nTaichar was a very paranoid man and for good reason. For all he had been through in life, there wasn't a lot of room to play nicely and say his yeses and pleases and thank you's like so many others had. His fingers tensed and untensed on the fork he head, taking bites with his eyes affixed in curious perplexment on the general.\n\nHe was really wondering one big question: what did she see in him? He swallowed the food in his mouth and spoke, \"A man able to bear this wilderness is not a man; he is a beast. Of course— beasts of war are ones of cunning and ones of cruelty. I could never imagine myself doing such a thing.\"\n\nThere was a long silence and his smile turned into one that seemes reborn in the firelight. He missed the wardrums, he missed the feeling of sending the arrows like lethal extensions of a god's willing hand.\n\n\"I would never have thought such a thing until I met you. I see your men and your power on even such a small scale. May I be guided to a warm shore when I die for this; but I will join you on several conditions, small, but conditions regardless. I want a small party of freshly recruited bowmen for me to train and teach, I want a place to call an official home. That being a piece of land for me to build upon. Finally, I want your word on something.\"\n\nHis face floated close to her and his voice shattered stones as he whispered with the ominous strength it carried, \"If I give you my loyalty, you must give me yours. I may not be familiar with houses. But I am familiar with betrayal.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe outskirts of the Witherlands\n\nWendy stared into Taichar's eyes as he gave his conditions, feeling herself leaning closer to the fire. By now, both of their voices were so hushed that she doubted her men could hear. Usually, she'd be cautious about making herself vulnerable like this, shrouding herself in secrecy with a stranger. But this all was too intoxicating. She could almost _feel_ Taichar's power, and it was almost hers. Almost.\n\n\"Once we return to my family's manor, I'll give you your men. We have plenty of land, and we'll surely expand once this war is over. You may have your share, to begin your family, again,\" Wendy said, practically grinning by now. Something in her face seemed... Off. Just enough for her men to begin whispering to each other, feeling uneasy enough to begin fingering their weapons. The general laughed slightly to herself. \"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already. You have my word. No harm will befall you, as long as you perform in the interests of my house. And, of House Carter.\"\n\nThe general stood herself up, stretching out her hand toward the clansman. Her horse, still standing behind her, grunted and dug its feet into the snowy ground, impatient.\n\n\"You will come with me. Yes?\"\n\nShe waited, her smile temporarily gone. At this moment, she stood over him. She hoped, though, that he would soon stand _with_ her, instead."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nOutskirts of the Witherlands\nTaichar remained seated. He was smiling with the same unexplainable emotion, doubt, hunger of conquest and glory, and an unsettling and obvious violence that had been surpressing for months. He was a very passive and modest man unless provoke and swore he lived on the bow for all that he ate. He ate spoils of war. His bow gobbled up clan family trees and unsuspecting raiders like breakfast.\n\nHis face shifted almost instantly to a deadpanned frown as he stood up. He was even more menacing standing the he was sitting. His broad shoulders made his chest puff out and as the fire moved from his face to his body, the scarlet embroidery in his silk robe was visible. Maybe it was dyed in blood. His tragic story gave way to a broken man of violence, although he did not enjoy to see men suffer out of pleasure; rather in justice and by the willingness of the laws of this cruel land.\n\nHis hand touched hers. His palm was like cowshide in how tough it was, his fingers raw and taut with dexterity from the bow and carefully tanning animals. The fingers closed and even in a light squeeze he could very well break her hand.\n\n\"Lovely— I am greatly pleased in that. If a family is not something I can have, I will gladly accept and train an army. To me, warbrothers are as much family as are sons and daughters.\" He slowly shook his hand and his smile returned. \n\n\"As would have I. Your word is sacred, may you hold true to it. For your safety and that of your house.\" He barely breathed those words and they came in a raspy and dangerously sinister growl. *He, unlike the sorrowed nomad telling a tale of loss, was now a battered and hardened bowman. His noble blood boiled. He was a masterful tracker and hunter alike; both of animal and of those who wronged him. Not for money. Not for fame. For the rightness of his heart. That is what made him so powerful.*"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nA small village inn\n\n\"Are we killing this one?\" Galen asked, riding close to Wendy. He kept his voice low, glancing back toward their traveling party. Galen was the man she'd been looking at for cues earlier that night. He was one of Wendy's most trusted soldiers, and his stealth had always served her well.\n\nThe group was riding—and walking—in a pattern that would block the incoming wind from those in the rear. Wendy didn't mind taking the front, with Galen. She was too invigorated for feel deterred by the cold.\n\n\"Gods, no,\" Wendy said, glancing behind her. She smiled to herself as she watched Taichar traveling with the rest of them. For now, he stood out. But soon, she was sure he'd blend in among them all. \"I still want to see more of what he can do..\"\n\nGalen hesitated, watching the way the general's eyes seemed to be glued to the clansman, almost as if in a trance. He merely cleared his throat.\n\n\"Of course, ma'am,\" He said, focusing his attention forward again. \"I just advise that we be careful. We're getting further and further away from safe territory. Perhaps taking risks like these isn't the most wise—\"\n\n\"I _know_ what I'm doing,\" The general snapped, her attention quickly shifting to the man riding beside her. \n\nAt this, Galen simply swallowed and adjusted his collar.\n\n\"Right. My apologies.\"\n\n———————\n\nAfter about a half hour of riding, the small party found their way to an inn. It was practically empty, so choosing rooms wasn't a hassle. They were arriving late at night, but the innkeepers still had some stew warmed up in a pot. They offered it to the group, and those who wanted to eat some, could. \n\nWendy, herself, took a moment to warm herself up in the small lobby of the inn, sitting down by the fireplace and unlatching her cloak."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nFollowing the General\n\nHe was a very passionate and adept rider. He had known the steppes every since he was very young and transitioned from the harsh, brutal cold to mild tempered but depressingly gray pastures in the summer. His horse was one of south-eastern breed, incredibly large in muscle composition with tufts of thick fur upon its back and hooves for extra warmth. It sighed as they trampled through the snow. Taichar could barely make out their quiet murmurs of suspicion but his eyes were fixed forwards with well-disciplined manners. He was no mere barbarian. The only noise he made was the occasional comforting words directed towards his horse in an unrecognizable, forgotten tongue. He was surrounded by people and yet all eyes were on him— he felt alone. In a confident sense; he would prove himself to these people.\n\nAt the inn, he brought in what light baggage he had. The ribs of his tent, the covering tarp, his wok, a few bundles of other provisions and other things. The rabbits he had yet to finished skinning but wrapped them in salt and stuffed them in a flat wooden box for preserving until he could. He stood by the door when he entered and looked around in observant curiosity. He hadn't been in one of these in quite some time. He shrugged off his coat and set it aside. \n\nTaichar-Yu's robes were magnificent. A fine oceanic blue with impressions of tidal waves and storms in a deep Persian blue, oriental flowers threaded in scarlet red that ran up his chest and onto his shoulders which were separated by small pointed ruby-red pauldrons affixed to baggy, flowing silken sleeves, slightly torn from his time in the wilds but were still of fantastic quality.\n\nTaichar stood by the fire with his hands outstretched to the flames, watching the fires dance with calm eyes. The metal plating of his boots gleamed brilliantly and the embroidery in his robe seemed to wink at the men in the lobby. He spoke in calm, \"It would be rather unfortunate if this turned out to be some elaborate hoax, wouldn't it?\" He said with a lighthearted chuckle. As he stood in the much fairer and noticeably stronger light of the inn his true form was made present. \n\nHe was quite admirable even for his slightly ripened age for his built body and chiseled profile, even though his wrinkles were much softer out of dramatic lighting but still sadly present.. He was strong and he had that charm of foreign nature that made him stand out in an enchanting way."
}
] | 359 | 3,103 |
318.5 | 2020-01-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nSmall village inn\n\nWendy paused to watch Taichar as he slipped off his coat, taken aback by what he was wearing. It certainly _looked_ foreign, even if that was the only word she could find at present to describe it. The detail and vibrancy in color, though, reminded her of the embroideries her and Caroline used to work on together, to pass the time when a snowstorm proved too vicious to allow anyone to leave the manor. Either way, it reminded her of wealth, if she were to put it bluntly.\n\n_He did mention that he was meant to inherit the clan, himself. Would that make him a little lord of sorts? Some would even say a prince.. Interesting._\n\nShe smiled at his joke, standing up and making for the stairs.\n\n\"I apologize for the secrecy, up until this point,\" The general said. \"You have your own room, but come to mine whenever you're settled. I'll brief you on our mission.\"\n\nShe paused at the top of the stairs, then turned.\n\n\"We'll also have to find you some new clothes. Yours stand out too much.\"\n\nThen, she disappeared around the corner, her steps upon the hallway making some of the wooden boards creak."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nAt the Inn\n\nHe met her watching eyes with a clever little smile. He could see her running the numbers it cost to make such elaborate clothing through her head and the thought made him laugh in a modest condescension. It tickled him to feel so rich and mighty although he had just been sitting in the midst of a bitter forest. It was ironic almost.\n\n\"Alright. I'll be up shortly... Oh, the clothes? Haha, yes. They're quite noticable.\" He stood by the fire for several minutes after she had left, watching the small handful of men in the lobby and the frost made the windows gleam from the inside. There was an indescribable feeling that hung in the air— something bad was about to happen. He sighed and started heading up the stairs.\n\n The only belongings he carried with him were his bow and quiver, sabre and his bone knife with one more addition tucked within his robes— a small deerskin-covered book.\n\nHe set his weaponry by his bed and undid the elaborate ivory buttons that kept his robes shut. Beneath it was a thicker brocade tunic of pure black with a cross section at the pectorals sewn in flaps of white cloth where the folds were stacked. Beneath the heavier leather pants he normally wore were matching black trousers for his tunic that were baggy at the hips and uniquely skinny at the calves down to the ankles, all tightly held up by a heavy beige-toned woven belt lined with wolf fur that wrapped around him like a sash. Stripped from his richer garments and down to the barren bones, it was undeniable that he was a pompous and powerful man even in a commoner's clothes. He was thankful he had so many layers for the cold but also for concealment.\n\nHe exited his room and gently rapped on the general's door. He awaited for an answer paitently."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe inn\n\n\"Come in, the door isn't locked,\" The general said, her voice slightly muffled through the door.\n\nThe room was a simple one. There was a bed by the window, a small bedside table in between the bed and the wall. It came furnished with a pair of skinny wooden chairs and a table, as well as a little scratched up rug. There was a basin in the room, prepared for a bath, if necessary, but Wendy didn't see herself using it. \n\nShe hardly felt as if she could sleep, in the first place.\n\nShe was sitting at the table, her cloak and armor well removed. Her entire wardrobe was black, an attempt that her and her men pursued at keeping a good cover at night. Her riding pants were form fitting, and her booths came up to her knees, leather straps securing them at the sides. Her top was a more loose fitting charcoal shirt, slightly smudged from where her armor dug into it. Her collarbone was exposed, and her thick mane of red hair stopped just above her chest. A gold locket rested right above her bosom.\n\n\"Sit,\" She said, staring down at a map. She only looked up briefly to see Taichar, taking note of his more discrete appearance. Her gaze was soon focused on the map again, though."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\nTaichar opened the door and walked in as prompted, not taking very long to look around the room before he sat down at the table. The room was essentially identical to that of his own.\n\nHe walked in and sat as soon as the words hit him. Upon sitting, he rested his hands upon the table and peered at the map. He had one himself but not of this detail and most likely costlier make. His eyes traced the names and locations of the lands before they located The Witherlands, then raising and looking back up at the general.\n\n\"What is our mission, exactly? You have yet to tell me about that— I'm curious to know. I assume you'll be getting to that though.\" He said in quiet, reserved calm. He was worried that indeed this could be a trap as much as the general was excited to get her hands on him. Poor man."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe Inn\n\n\"It is a little ambitious, but..\" Wendy looked up at Taichar. For a moment, she felt vulnerable. This mission meant a lot to her. It would surely please her family, and of course it would please the Ice Lord. But, for some reason, she felt so much _pressure_ ... Maybe it was because if she failed, she could very well lose her life.\n\nThat fear of death had never felt quite real to her, before this moment.\n\n\"I have some intel about where Lord Vivayn may be. It came from a stupid rebel, but we've been sending out some scouts who've been able to monitor activity around the border,\" Wendy said. She placed her finger down on the map. \"We're here, not too far from the border. The main gate that's used for entry into the Witherlands is here.\"\n\nShe slid her finger across the map, toward the southernmost part of the border. \n\n\"Vivayn's holdings are permanent, but we can't be too sure of his whereabouts. We also have a hostage to consider, and so we don't want to be too brash, but...\"\nWendy looked back up at Taichar, swallowing. \"We mean to take him out. For good. And end this entire war in one blow. We're... The only ones who know, my men and I. Everyone else would have thought it too risky. But this plague, it presents the perfect opportunity. At least, I think it does.\"\n\nShe sat back, sighing. \"Working with a team this small is hard, though. I've heard that eerie things have been happening around here, as of late. I wanted information from you, at first, but... No one would ever assume you'd be working for me. I think you can help us breach inside.\""
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nAt the Inn, Regretting his Choices\n\nHe met her gaze and read it for what he could. He could sense her vulnerability as it poured from her. He could practically reach for it and snatch it from the air, squeezing' the essences from it and swallowing it up greedily. He stared at her blankly as he spoke before his eyes fell back to the map, following the finger with her eyes and picking up her words with a cautious ear.\n\n\"I see. I am new to these house affairs, so I am incredibly underinformed on all of this information.\" He stated, thinking on his words before adding, \"But there is room to learn of course. If something needs to be done then I will damn see it through.\"\n\nHe met her eyes again as she looked back up at him. *He audibly heard her swallow.* He looked like an entirely different man from the one huddled by the fire, this was one that had seen battle closer and in a more dangerous light in more concentrations than perhaps any of her men had. His brows narrowed. \n\n\"You use times of sickness to strike. It is dishonorable, but it is a good tactic if you mean to play dirtily.\" He said in a tone of disappointed bluntness. He watched her and his eyes shifted back to the map, then to her. \"Of course nobody would expect me working for you and of course I could breach. I'm just some clueless outsider. It could very well be done. I'll see to it.\" He said after a long moment's deliberation. He was upset inwardly by the idea of striking during a time of plague. That was the time when clan's would call for truces and enemy lines would be dissolved to help.\n\nNot walls being put up to harm. He sighed. \"This is a small team. I'm used to many, many more men myself, but these numbers will do for breaching and intel gathering.\""
}
] | 330 | 1,911 |
203 | 2020-01-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe inn\n\nThe woman frowned, sitting back. She folded her arms across her abdomen, listening with pursed lips as Taichar both responded, and critiques her plan. She bit the inside of her mouth, irritated.\n\n_He finds me dishonorable? He's agreed to help, but..._\n\n\"I can not blame you for being averse to my plan. You do not know the horrors our enemy has committed,\" Wendy said. \"Anything we do to him would be merciful.\"\n\nShe stood, placing her hands on her hips and staring down at him. Even as she stood, she wasn't that much taller compared to his mountainous build. She'd never been one to be intimidated by stature, though.\n\n\"You seem confident. I hope it remains. You're right; we don't have the numbers to overwhelm. Once you find your in and distract, it is all tact and stealth from there on out.\""
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\nTaichar watched her frown and adversely he smiled. He knew he was right. These numbers, if he did breach and happened to be caught, he would die or be taken prisoner and interrogated. There was no going around it but it was a dangerous risk that he did not like the sound of. \n\n\"But of course. I know nothing, I'm but a pawn pulled into a constantly changing game of chess. Each piece plays an important role and yet only the hand that moves them knows their worth.\" \n\nHe stood as she did and met her eyes, having to physically look down upon her to do so. He was an incredibly tall and built man. If it wasn't for his admirable wit and tact, his composure made up for it. He raised an eyebrow as she spoke. \n\n\"Yes, that's precisely what I plan on doing. If things all go to plan— I do have a bad feeling about this. I don't know what it could be, but... Something's off. I don't like it.\" He commented."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe Inn\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" She said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. \"Would it be better if you were in charge? Apparently I have no clue what we're getting into. Yes, I'm absolutely clueless.\"\n\nHer words were harsh, but her face betrayed her own anxiety about what they were about to attempt. _Is this how all of my men feel? Do none of them have faith in me?_\n\nShe folded her arms tighter around her stomach, but refused to break his gaze, looking at at him as her lips pulled into a deeper frown."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\n\"Please. I would *Love* That.\" He responded with equally harsh sarcasm, staring her down with a snide grin playing at the corners of his lips that pulled his teeth into ravenous fangs. His mouth turned into the maw of a cunning wolf and his eyes went cold in an almost lifeless way. \n\nHe closed the distance between them and kept maybe four inches from eachother, watching her face closely before he spoke, \"You may be a general, but so was I at one point. Not by fancy blood. Not by huge manors and fine dining. But by compassion and by playing by the *Rules.* I would never even in the rightest sense of my mind attack during plague time. Not even against my worst enemy. I am under your orders, and of course I will follow them, but know that I am not happy.\"\n\nHis voice was callous with a metallic edge to it that was almost hard to listen to— like being scolded by a teacher that you admire for their vast knowledge turning bitter as you hand in a faulty paper. His brows narrowed close to his eyes and his gaze turned viperous. His nose crinkled and his lips sealed to form a slightly worried and uneasy faulted line. He wanted to say something but no words came to him."
}
] | 207.5 | 812 |
361.5 | 2020-01-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe inn\n\nThe general blinked, not noticing how small the space was between them until there were no words to fill it. In silence, she couldn't bring herself to do anything besides simply stare at Taichar. Even outside, in the elements, situated among the harshness of the cold, he'd never seemed this intimidating before—flitting around, from his tent and back again. He'd just seemed nothing more than an artifact. A silly story about clans and nomads come to life. \n\nNow, she could feel cold beads of sweat trace her back. The room felt smaller, the air thinner. She hadn't felt this threatened, since..\n\nSuddenly, Wendy took several steps back, reaching for her hip. Usually, a sword would be there, attached by a belt. The general glanced to her right. Both of which were now leaned up against the bedside table. \n\nShe snapped her attention toward Taichar again, her frown deepening. She wasn't accustomed to this. Any of her underlings always seemed intimidated by her in one way or another. Stories of her less-than-kind interrogations were common among the barracks. And if a fellow was unlucky enough to _really_ piss her off, she had no issue humiliating him in front of his peers.\n\nBut Taichair wasn't born and bred among the Witherland infantry. His respect wasn't tailored and fashioned. In fact, it was nonexistent. And Wendy simply didn't know how to function without it.\n\n\"Your _compassion_ and _rule-following_ didn't save your clan, did it?\" The woman finally said. She stood straight again, lifting her chin. \"Lecture me about chivalry when you actually have something to protect. In the meantime, you're dismissed. Get out of my room.\"\n\nThis time, she didn't flinch. Her heart was still racing, but she didn't falter. She held her hands behind her back, her shoulders square. \n\nBut her fingers were shaking."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\nNo man could have challenged him more than those he had met outside this inn, in the wilds, in his past life. Until Wendy. It was impossible for him to step down so deeply to a woman that only *Claimed* To be a general and have a handful of men. He had yet to see her do anything of interest besides boss some grunts around. \n\nHe watched her reach for her sword and his arms outstretched almost instantaneously before they fell upon realizing she had no sword. He looked to the nightstand to where the swords were and back to Wendy. \n\nHumiliation was foreign to him. Interrogations in an equally mysterious light, they just didn't happen where he was from. He thanked whatever being was watching him that he knew nothing about this woman to be afraid of. He could prance around her all he liked and he'd always be one cautious step ahead of her. He listened to her talk and suddenly this wasn't very entertaining anymore. \n\nThe look he gave her could only be described as death incarnate. His posture became rigid and his jawline clenched. The ledges of his teeth were visible through his lip from how incredibly tight he was pursing them. `He was coming after her now.` You don't *Say* Things like that to people like him, and now he had a very firm reason to antagonize her beyond a pretty poor plan in her personal opinion. He breathed shallowly, \"Remind me when the last time that attacking in peacetime like a fucking barbarian was chivalrous. Like you're any better than me— we are both far from saint-like. Talk to me tomorrow when you think about the way you sound right now.\" He said it after what felt like hours of his bugged eyes boring into her very being. Even though he was the one being dismissed, he carried the authority where the tables very well could have been turned oppositely.\n\nHe left silently to his bedroom. He was careful to lock the door and undress for a bath. \n\nThe water was cold."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe inn\n\nWendy didn't let go of her breath until Taichar left, feeling her shoulders almost crack from how tense they'd become. She stumbled back and braced herself against the window, feeling the chill from outside seep in through the panes. Eyes closed, the woman slid down and held her head in her hands, trying to breathe in deeply. She still felt as if she were suffocating. \n\n_No, no, no_ she thought to herself, wiping her eyes. It had been years since she'd had a panic attack like this one. Her head pounded, and she felt as if her throat was collapsing in on itself. _Calm down,_ she thought to herself, furiously wiping her eyes free from tears. \n\nShe hadn't actually felt _fear_ for a man since one unfortunate night in her training camp, nearly 10 years ago. And since then, she'd vowed to return that fear, tenfold.\n\nThat just wouldn't be the case with Taichar, though. \n\nWendy almost regretted not giving the order to shoot him down, when she truly did have the upper hand. She may have unwittingly made a terrible mistake.\n\n————————————————\n\n_The next morning_\n\nWendy latched the last of her armor around her left forearm, the material tightly woven to be protective, but cast in a dark luster so as not to be easily noticed. She grabbed her black cloak, trimmed with gray wolf's fur, as she walked out of the room, letting the door swing behind her.\n\nA few of her men, Galen included, were already huddled in the foyer. They looked as if they rested well, at least.\n\nAs for her, heavy bags rested under her eyes. Her cheeks were rubbed red, almost raw, from her furious refusal of tears the night previous. She descended the stairs silently, going to the counter to pay their fares for the night."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\nIt was a restless night. The world was quiet outside the window, the moon peering at him with a watching eye as he slowly scrubbed the dirt off of his body in the washbin. They were one room apart. He did, inwardly, feel something he could not put a finger on. An admirable respect and yet a hatred that he had not felt himself tap into ever since the massacre. \n\nHe slid a hand down his shoulder, standing in waning candlelight with his nude body exposed to the room. He felt venerable like a caged animal, being jeered at and toyed with even in the silent and sleepy hours of the night. Water ran down his frame and his eyes slowly closed. \n\nIf he could take it all back, he didn't know for sure if he would. There was a like-dislike ratio that never seemed to truly settle in how he felt about people. He barely knew this woman. Why think like that? He hummed softly in thought and he felt himself slipping from himself. Taichar climbed out of the washbasin and slowly toweled off. As he brought the towel down his face, he had a miraculous vision: this was destined to be. He was destined to meet this woman, and by compulsion he reasoned he was destined to die by her.\n\n————————————————————————————————————————\n\nTaichar-Yu was the very first person to be in the lobby and the very first to leave. He was freshly washed and fully suited up, his wooden cuirass and reed skirt beneath his thick elder coat, but he was nowhere to be seen at first. \n\nFrom the windows in the lobby, he was seen sitting several paces from the front door and skinning the rest of his rabbits in the snow. His face was hardened and his eyes were clouded in thought, chewing through what had happened last night in deep contemplation. By him was his tankard, steaming with a delectable tea. \n\nHe was truly in his element. And yet, he had the opportunity to be with people, these were strangers. He was yet again alone."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe inn\n\nAs Wendy finished paying, she turned and took a quick head count. All six were there, checking over their gear and stretching the sleepiness from their limbs. The gentle morning light filtered in through the dusty windows, the snow outside making it all seem brighter. \n\n\"Where's Taichar?\" Wendy asked, as she placed her hand on the door handle.\n\n\"Already outside, ma'am. He's been out there for some time, now,\" Galen said, nodding toward one of the windows. \n\nConfusion passed over the woman's face as she stepped back a few paces to peer at Taichar through the window. He was crouched over, similar to the night before, staring down at... Whatever he was working on.\n\n_Another rabbit?_ she thought.\n\nWendy rolled her eyes and stepped forward again, grabbing the door and swinging it behind her. \n\n\"What are you doing?\" She asked as she approached the for"
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\nOf course it was more rabbit. It was the rabbit from the previous night. Everything had been skinned and he was meticulously and carefully cutting the rabbit into strips before laying them back in the salted box for preservation. The fur he was sewing togethe, having trimmed the excess and had a partially-sewn square of fur for perhaps a new coat or to sell. Whatever it was, it had purpose. The fat he had jarred and was packed down for lantern fuel. \n\n\"I am taking care of last night's hunt. Since we had rushed off so quickly, I hadn't had a chance to finish what I am doing.\" He calmly stated. He stopped his needlework to look up at her and he meakly smiled. His eyes were bloated with red, swollen bags from a poor night of sleeping. His face was clean and his beard freshly trimmed. His eyes said that he was overwhelmingly glad to see the woman but his smile faltered into a dismayed frown— realizing that she was probably not that happy to see him. \n\nHe picked up the salted box and jar, rolling the fur and tucking it under his arm as he stood up. His knees hurt from working in the snow and he grimaced. His head was murky, swirling silver, thinking of stars and moonlight and when he was truly by himself.\n\n\"Are we leaving already?\" He asked with a stifled yawn. The rabbit was a concern not only because he did not want it to go bad and be wasted, but, he also needed food if he were to be on the run for several days. He had that continually bad feeling broiling in his stomach that tossed his insides like fierce waves. A storm was coming. He sensed it in the air and the cold bitterness of the morning had an underlaying wetness to it— rain. It had yet to come however and his instincts set him on edge."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\nScarlett tugged her emerald green cloak tighter around her as a gust of wind whipped around her, wrenching at her cloak and making her tousled red curls even more unruly. It was a bitter wind, just as every wind in the Witherlands was, and Scarlett couldn't help but wonder what disease that wind might carry with it. She shuddered a little at the thought and glanced around the largely deserted street. Those that dared go outside avoided eye contact and gave everyone a wide berth, including Scarlett, but for the most part, the city was little more than a frozen corpse, a mere skeleton of the bustling city it had once been. \n\nShe held a silk scarf, given to her by one of her clients, over her nose and mouth as she bustled along down the street. It had been doused with perfume and herbs to keep the plague at bay, or at least that's what she was told those things would do, and it the perfume would mask the stench of rotting flesh and gaping pustules, should any appear. Scarlett intended to be far from the city when that happened though. Besides, business was slow lately, not that she could really take on any clients anyway. Not without incredible risk. It was dangerous enough to be passing people on the street, let alone helping them with their carnal desires. \n\nYet her profession was quite evident, with her painted lips and eyes and a scarlet letter stitched to the bosom of her dress that denoted it as well, as if it weren't already obvious. Really though, she stood out just for her figure and her immaculate, though somewhat scandalous dress.\n\nCertainly not rich by any means, she had made decent wages in the past few years, before the plague came, and she was now depending on the money she had saved to make her escape from this cesspool, just as so many of the other residents had done when word of the plague had reached them. While the plague had not yet reached this city, it was spreading so quickly that its arrival was inevitable, and when it did... Well, given the accounts of the dead in other cities, it would likely happen here as well.\n\nScarlett intended to escape before that happened. She wasn't sure exactly where she would go just yet. Perhaps somewhere in the country? Somewhere where the disease would have fewer hosts and wouldn't travel so quickly; where it would be easier to avoid contact with others. Who knows? Maybe she would be able to find another job and get out of the business. Either way, she intended to get out of here today. She had already hired a carriage that would take her south to Taemar, where it was a little warmer and where the plague had not been quite as devastating, according to rumors she had heard. Now she just had to get her trunk of belongings there, though with as tightly as she had packed it with dresses and shoes and all her other belongings, she had no idea how she was going to carry it. \n\nShe had always been good at playing the damsel in distress and manipulating the feelings of men to suit her needs, however, so she wasn't particularly concerned about finding someone to carry it for her. She just needed to spot the perfect candidate..."
},
{
"author": "thudnfer",
"message": "Calder Alaric\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\nAll these rumours of a plague was... Concerning, to say the least. Whether people were saying it was just a common cold or a killer disease that raised the dead, one thing was clear; the world was on the verge of turning to anarchy. Normally, that would be a good thing. Less people around meant less chance of being killed by one. But people would run to the isolated forests, and Calder would be the first one to be found. It was a mark of their desperation that some people were trekking out of the village, giving him suspicious glances. Although that may have less to do with the plague and more with the armour and wicked axe that clearly marked him as a warrior.\n\nThe sounds of society were more... Dull than other times he'd visited villages like this. No merchants barking their wears. No men bringing in a constant stream of firewood. Not even children playing in the streets. Any people that weren't in their homes were running around with a lot of haste. A woman, a noble by the silk scarf she held to her mouth, a prostitute by the dress made to allure men, was rushing by. Without experience in the wilderness, it was likely she'd die soon. Either from the plague, if it was on it's way here, or from hunger trying to avoid it. Even here, with people going about their business, there was much avoidance and the tension was akin to a town knowing an army was about to descend on them. Every once in a while, a man looked outside, hefting swords or axes or halberds, as if expecting chaos to erupt any moment. Or maybe they were looking at the man in snow-covered steel, wondering what his armour would be worth.\n\nCalder ran his gloved thumb over the blade of his axe. Looks like he might be killing today."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\nScarlett scurried along, her skirts swishing about her, her eyes scanning the streets for someone that looked healthy and strong enough to carry the large steamer trunk filled with her belongings. One might know it, based on how quickly she could move in the rather voluminous dress, but the fabrics were thick and sturdy, making them incredibly heavy. Granted, to be warm enough to survive in the Witherlands, clothes had to be made from thick fabrics. \n\nAs she walked, she noticed the tall, massive, beefy man across the street, moving in the opposite direction. Now there was an interesting candidate. He looked more than strong enough to carry the trunk; he looked strong enough to carry it like it were no more than a feather! He also looked rather intimidating... The armor, as well as the massive axe in his hand, was certainly off-putting. He looked like he was just about ready to chop someone into bits! Still, she had learned from her clients that what appeared to be the truth was not always so. And right now, her options were *Severely* Limited. \n\nWell, she could test his chivalry quickly. The standard test. She \"Tripped\" And fell, letting out a faint little cry before plummeting to the earth, then whimpered as she held her ankle. Always effective."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe Inn\n\n\"We are leaving,\" She said, keeping her statements short. It didn't feel good, to repay his gladness with nothing short of contempt, but she couldn't shake her anger. Out here, she could save face. Even now, as she heard the grunts and soft jangling of the approaching mountain horses and their reins led by loyal men, she felt more powerful than she had in the past twelve hours. \n\n\"Keep in mind that as a unit, we stay together, unless I've given instruction otherwise. If you'd like to tend to your own food, that's fine. But do it well before we are ready to leave. Understood?\" \n\nShe momentarily focused her gaze on the rabbit, now separated in neat strips within the salted box. \n\n\"I suppose I wouldn't mind trying some, if you are still keen on sharing,\" The woman said. She considered it an attempt at an olive branch, even if it was a poor one. She'd refused his previous attempts, after all."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\n\"Oh, yes. I'm sorry— I didn't want to wake you and I had my things to take care of. I've been attending my things for, eh, maybe the past three hours. It's a timely process that takes much focus and forethougt.\" He said in dismissal. He started to turn in order to go get his things.\n\n\nAs he started walking back towards the inn to grab the rest of his stuff, he didn't realize she had been serious in her intentions of asking for some rabbit. He slowly turned on the front of his foot and looked at her like he'd been dehydrated and laid his eyes on a river. Thankfulness. His horse snorted in annoyance as the sleepy beast watched. Rather than taking his horse to the stables, he had tied it up a considerably closer distance. *He had considered running off.*\n\nHe walked back to her with timid steps and opened the box's lid. It slid off like a carton of cigarettes'. The strips of rabbit were darkening with the preservation process and as he opened the lid back, the smell of familiar cracked pepper and some sort of milky cream they had been marinating in. He had been working quite tirelessly and had been outside before the sun was even up. \n\nTaichar did not sleep for more than a wink and his head was drooping as he fished a strip from the box and offered it to her. The rabbit was darkened to a medium consistency with an orange hue. Grains of salt and peppercorn clung to its surface."
},
{
"author": "thudnfer",
"message": "Calder Alaric\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\nCalder wasn't surprised to see that the woman had tripped over her own feet while staring at him. Many village people saw guards and soldiers, but he had often been told that he had an intimidating aura.\n\nPutting his axe back in its loop and forcing himself to let go of it, he swooped down and picked up the woman by grabbing her upper arms.\n\"If you wanna fall over, do it inside. Better to snap your neck than to freeze to death. At least, that's what I've been told. Someone of your... Inclination shouldn't put herself in a vulnerable position if she can help it. In public, at least.\""
}
] | 395.5 | 4,338 |
282 | 2020-01-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\n*An interesting response,* She mused. *Chivalrous and yet... Not.* She winced a little and favored her right ankle as he picked her up and set her back on her feet, swaying a little as if she might fall again. She used that as an excuse to rest her hands on his chest as she gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, her emerald eyes searching his face. \n\nShe smiled playfully at him once she had steadied herself and replied coyly, \"I find myself in vulnerable, compromising positions quite frequently, though seldom with anyone as strong as you.\" She gave him a playful little wink and then lightly pushed herself off of his chest so that she was standing, though she still favored her right foot. \n\nAs she dusted herself off, she continued, \"Thank you for your help, sir. Would... Well, it seems that I've sprained my ankle. Would you be willing to help me carry my belongings to my carriage? I would have done it myself, but with this ankle...\" She trailed off and looked up at him once more, hoping that he would agree, though she hadn't mentioned any payment for his work."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "General Wendy Margir\nThe Inn\n\nWendy remained still and silent as Taichar gingerly gathered his things, ignoring Galen's impatient shifting from foot to foot. The rest of the mini-platoon were just a few paces away, now, the horses nodding their heads in anticipation of being on the move, again. Even as Galen grabbed the reins to her horse and brought him to her side, Wendy's gaze remained fixed on Taichar's eyes.\n\n_You could have run away, the second I told you that you would be bait,_ she thought as she considered his face. The fury from the night before was gone. For that, she was thankful. The woman winced, inwardly, considering the words she'd spoken to even get him to that point. Had he forgiven her, so soon? Even after digging a jab into a wound, bitter still? \n\nCarefully, Wendy grabbed one of the rabbit strips, pulling her eyes away from Taichar's for a moment to examine it. It looked more appetizing than any of the food her and her men had stored away. Feeling her men watching, their gazes nothing short of wary, Wendy took a small bite. She chewed, blinking as she began savoring the flavor on her tongue. It was well-infused into the meat, and the additional salts and spices served to enhance everything brilliantly.\n\nThe woman swallowed, nodding a few times. She then looked up toward Taichar again, holding the strip of meat closer to her chest.\n\n\"Thank you,\" She said. Though, her tone was not that of someone showing a simple gratitude for a bite to eat. Her thanks reached further than that. _Thank you, for staying with me,_ she wished she could say. Her pride wouldn't allow it, though.\n\n\"Ma'am, we should be going,\" Galen finally said. The rest of the platoon had already mounted their horses.\n\nWendy turned her head, seeing her horse there. She reached up a hand to rub its nose, making it whinny and blow out an affectionate little snort. \n\n\"Right. Let's go, then,\" Wendy said, tucking the strip of meat away in her cloak and turning to mount her horse."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nThe Inn\n\nTaichar-Yu was not a man of grudges. His story would set the most reknowned of knights to boiling and frothing at the flesh, but he was calm in his reserve and his nerve unwavering. There was too much unrealized potential in places and people to be so angry all the time. His brows shifted as he thought on it; he thought people like that were normaly? Everyone where he had came from had the same calm temper, but then again, they knew not the horrors of war beyond the occasional skirmish with a rivaling clan over territory or playing 'soldiers' with one another, their tiny bows and meek quivers looked intimidating when they were so young. Now it was a reality. \n\nLike a field basking in the warmth of the midday sun, his face bloomed vibrantly as he watched her eyes speckle in amazement at his curing abilities. He wasn't a good cook in terms of elegancy, but he was very good at keeping things simple and comforting in a savory sort of way. He smiled in appreciation and nodded. He completely missed the tone in her voice and just felt happy to be able to share his craft with someone. His rolled tent and provisions set his horse's back to curving, but the hearty beast was like no other and it bore the weight well. Taichar saddled up and followed the rest. \n\nIf it was possible, he would have felt the connection of heat that Wendy placing the meat against her chest left. He watched with amused eyes as she tucked it into her cloak, it was warming enough to make him feel like he potentially belonged here."
},
{
"author": "thudnfer",
"message": "Calder Alaric\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\n*She thinks she's hot stuff, doesn't she? Bat a few eyelashes and suddenly the world is at her feet. Maybe a lesson in humility will do her some good.*\n\"Fine. Point me in the right direction and I'll see what I can do. As long as you don't consider your house as part of your belongings.\"\n*So she has a carriage but no one to move her possessions? Surely someone who can hire or buy one can also afford extra manpower.*\n\nSeemingly unconsciously, Calder stroked his axe again. If he showed himself to be an easy target, no doubt he'd need to spill blood to get away. It'd be best to get this over with, and quickly, so that as little attention is brought to him and his apparent partner."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nIn a city that will be determined eventually\n\nShe smiled brightly when he agreed to carry her trunk for her, delighted that the ruse had worked. Men were *So* Easy. Perhaps she could scrounge up a bit to pay him for his troubles, though she really couldn't offer him much. Money was tight with no clients to service at the moment, and she was already starting to dip into her savings; she would need that to establish herself elsewhere and to ride out the plague!\n\n\"Thank you so much!\" She replied warmly. \"It's just a trunk, as I really don't have much. But I have it all packed up and just needed to bring it back, until silly old me fell! I'm just so clumsy sometimes.\" She continued rambling as she led him in the direction of her house. She favored her left foot for a few steps, then remembered it was supposed to be her right foot that was injured and quickly corrected the situation."
},
{
"author": "dipp.",
"message": "Taichar-Yu\nWitherlands Mountain Pass\n\nSilence fell upon the land between the occasional crunching of snow under a hoof. Horse after horse lumbered along, Taichar's eyes vigilant as he scanned the snow. He had the continual feeling something bad was about to happen that presently stayed in the center of his chest. His eyes were affixed from the snow, then to Wendy and back. He was boring serious eyes into the back of her head until he heard it.\n\nAn avalanche. \n\nCrumbling rocks and fragments of ice cascaded down the sides of the steep ravine they were lodged in. Taichar turned and began riding back in the opposite direction with no further notice. He had seen this happen too many times to get himself stuck in such a dire situation and before he knew it the world was blanketed in white, erupting from behind him like a fog machine. Whirling frost bit at his face and he breathed in the shards of ethereal glass, coughing and sputtering as he rode blindly on.\n\n`Wendy and her platoon was gone. Taichar vanished into the smoke of the frosted flame, going back into solitude.`"
}
] | 250 | 1,692 |
236.666667 | 2020-01-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nInsert Joke here\n\nObama giggled at Catarina's remark.\n\n\"I'd hardly call myself an artist, but thank you. I only wish to bring some warmth on the road, especially since the world is going down a drain recently.\" The crackling of the fire was mirrored by the burning tobacco in his pipe as he continued to take drags, puffing away like some kind of steam powered contraption.\n\nModern medicine often spoke of the risks of constant smoking, but thankfully modern medicine didn't exist yet so Noma could smoke without a care in the world, which wasn't saying much since the man often left his worries behind him on the road.\n\n\"I take an extra minute to make food, but it's far from being good enough to be called art.\" He chuckled, and the ox behind him seemed to call out in agreement.\n\nThe chef turned, scolding his friend's brutal honesty. How dare he admit the truth Noma was only hinting at."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nShe smiled at Noma's humbleness, finding it all refreshing and comforting. And a relief as well! He apparently expected no payment in all of this, which to Catarina seemed no less than a miracle. She undoubtedly wouldn't have survived much longer without food and warmth, and with this thought in mind, she breathed a prayer to the gods who had cursed her for letting her survive a little longer. She didn't understand why she was so desperate to live, truthfully, but somewhere she felt that she still had more to do in this world. Some task, somewhere, needed to be accomplished before her soul could finally be freed from the shackles of her curse and she could finally rest. \n\n\"I'm grateful for it, all the same,\" She replied, then turned her attention back to Shaye and Maren as she snuggled closer to the fire and basked in the radiating warmth. With a full belly of hot food to warm her insides and the fire warming her outsides, it wasn't long before she felt her eyelids getting heavy, her head bobbing as she struggled to stay awake."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nMaren wondered to herself. Roads? Like how? \"Like a map?\" She asked, cocking her head to the side. She liked this lady. She seemed scared, though. Maren looked around and wondered what she was afraid of. The fire, no... The chef? Maybe... Her? Was this tall lovely lady afraid of little Maren? She looked down at herself and then back at Shaye, reaching over and placing a little hand on the top of Shaye's frosty cloak. She leaned in and whispered.\n\n\"*You don't hafta be scared...*\" She murmured, before giving her a little nod. She glanced back at Noma as he continued to chat about cuisine. She smiled a little at the way he spoke. He reminded her of the color orange. Cozy and warm, with a bright hint of excitement. As the Ox himself called out in agreement, and Noma glanced back with a scolding glance, it made Maren really smile, and even let out a light and feathery giggle. Her voice was hoarse from the dry and cold air, but it made it even sweeter. She began inching her way over to the Ox in interest. She always loved animals..."
}
] | 242 | 710 |
175.5 | 2020-01-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nShaye briefly listened in on the conversation happening to the other side of her, refreshed by the Man's kindness; it was something she rarely witnessed in a place so cold. Most people would have yelled at her just for coming anywhere near their wagon. Yet here this chef was, seeming pleased at the prospect of offering them a warm meal.Were she a more suspicious person, she may have doubted his sincerity, but truthfully, she was too grateful to be so wary.\n\nReturning her full attention to Maren, she nodded, her eyes sparkling slightly at the mention of her work. \"Exactly! A very large map.\" \nThe towering woman spoke softly but the was an undercurrent of excitement, indicating how passionate she was about the subject. However, she couldn't help the apparent blush that flooded to her cheeks at the child's words. *Am I that obvious?* \nShe cleared her throat and gave the girl a small, appreciative smile, \"Thank you.\""
},
{
"author": "hobbit_viking77",
"message": "Noma de Cuisinaire\nWagons are cool\n\nBertram almost retorted, sending him a long low moo that almost resonated sass, for an ox that is.\n\n\"No you big oaf, you've already had your dinner. Don't think you can sweet talk me into another bale.\" Noma was nearly climbing over the back of his chair to talk to the beast. It only called out in response.\n\n\"You're fat Bertram, you don't need scraps or anything else!\" Another moo.\n\n\"Okay, fine. *One* Carrot after dinner. But you have to finish your bale.\"\n\nWas Noma insane? The cow responded but he seemed to make up the responses at a whim."
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nMaren shuffled over to the big Ox and stared up at it with watery eyes. Such a funny guy! She giggled a little more as she reached up as far as she could and touched her fingers to his velvety nose while he seemed to have a chat with Noma.\n\nAfter hearing that he could have a Carrot, she felt a hand of excitement. She turned around and shuffled over to the happy chef, unphased by the way he spoke to the beast. \"Mister No... Noma... Can I feed Mister B... Bertram the carrot?\" She asked with a small voice. Odd request, but her excitement was apparent as she clasped her hands together in a pleading fashion. \"I like Ber... Bertram!\" She said assuredly, nodding with her icy eyebrows and runny nose."
},
{
"author": "minihedgie",
"message": "Shaye Hallenshire\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nGlancing over at the Ox, Shaye felt a small twinge of relief- she was always so much better with animals. Perhaps because they didn't require her to vocalize things, something she was obviously bad at. Watching the creature, she felt a small yawn pass her lips, suddenly feeling the effects of the warm food in her system. \n\nShe glanced over at the other woman sleeping by the fire; *Perhaps it wouldn't hurt too much to take a little nap..* \nAnother yawn sounded and she felt her eyes struggle to stay open. She shouldn't sleep quite yet, especially in such an unfamiliar place.. However, her body disagreed and she felt herself slowly fall into the warm embrace of rest. *Just for a few minutes..*"
}
] | 173.5 | 702 |
236.75 | 2020-02-16 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei woke up to a shake and a small heat source next to her face. Her father's scent was right over her, and his deep breathing was smooth. \n\n\"Cerei, you have to get up. Your mother expects you out early today.\" His breath smelled like the bottle in the kitchen. She nodded and slid out of bed, counting her steps until she reached her chest of clothes. They were neatly sorted, and she knew the order of the materials kept. Her mother matched each pair so she could dress alone, and she dressed, before reaching down and feeling the floor until she reached her shoes. Her father came back in the room and helped her put them on, and led her into the kitchen. \n\nThe smell of bacon and eggs wafted into her nose, and her mother's voice called out to her, telling her that her plate was at her spot. She grabbed the chair and sat down, and grabbed the spoon. She was not allowed to eat with anything else. She only learned how to eat because being forced to eat alone so her parents wouldn't have to be there every step of the way. \n\nAfter eating, she grabbed the smooth stick that was sitting beside her chair. She used it to feel her surroundings so that she didn't hit anything in her way. \n\n\"I am headed to the west side of town today. Hopefully being near more well off people will get me more money today.\" Cerei said, grabbing the pouch she used to keep the money she collected. She walked out the door and began counting her steps back into town. She made her way to a small covered section on the side of the road and held her stick out, thanking everyone that put money in."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nHer hired carriage had brought her further south, though she had not yet escaped from the Witherlands. The going was slow, especially as they had to avoid well-traveled roads and areas where it was rumored that the plague had taken its toll. If she could just get to Taemar, she knew she would be safe. Rumor had it that the plague had not reached it, and that, somehow, it seemed as if the plague could not pass into its borders. It seemed too good to be true, but in a time of so much darkness, even the slightest glimmer of light seemed as radiant as the sun. \n\nUnfortunately, the slow going had made the trip quite expensive, and Scarlett was running low on funds. Worse still was the fact that she couldn't ply her usual trade, since everyone was too afraid to indulge in such activities right now, so she had been forced to sell off a great deal of her belongings. It was getting to the point, however, that she had very little left to sell.\n\nTo make up for all the lost time, they were travelling much faster on these roads. They would likely stop in town to gather some more supplies, then journey on their way again, and the horses, seeming to sense a respite from their arduous travels away from civilization were chomping at the bit, galloping along at a fast pace. \n\nThe went around a bend in the road and suddenly, she heard the carriage driver shouting, \"Get out of the way! Move! Watch out!\" The carriage swerved, tottered dangerously, and then hit a rock in the road, launched into the air, and came crashing back down. There was the sickening, splintering snap of wood under far too much pressure, and the carriage let out a groan like some great beast as it wobbled and tottered precariously, then with one final moan, toppled to its side and launched Scarlett out the door. She landed several feet from the carriage, striking her head hard on the earth and falling unconscious from the blow."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei began her routine, filling the passerby's heads with stories of her orphanage burning or her parents being killed by the wizard that took her sight away from her. Her purse began filling with coins, she had struck a gold mine. As more and more people began to appear, she began telling one cohesive story so no one would appear suspicious. She was given food, sweets, and other goodies, but it did not last long. Soon, she heard a large commotion nearby, and she stood up and walked in that direction. She heard someone yell for someone else to move, and heard a loud crash right behind her. She lowered to the ground, holding her hands above her head. \n\n\"Someone help!\" She could hear a man's voice cry out. There was ringing in her ears and her impulse was to open her eyes but she still could not see. Her stick was gone, and she felt around her, attempting to find something familiar. Her hands felt the outline of her purse, and she grabbed it, sitting up on her knees."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nA low groan escaped her as she was roused by the sound of a man shouting and people flocking to the scene of the crash, all of them gossiping and discussing what had happened. Her head ached something awful, a warm patch of something having pooled beneath her head and sticking to her scalp. It hurt so bad she felt as if she couldn't even open her eyes from the constant throbbing. \n\nShe wasn't even fully conscious yet, though she was vaguely aware of what was going on around her. Someone said that the horse would need to be put down, and another had apparently found the carriage driver crushed beneath the carriage and the horses, his body mangled and twisted in such a way that he barely looked human. So far, no one had seen Scarlett, who had been launched far enough away and was covered by enough underbrush that she was almost impossible to see from the scene of the crash. \n\nShe wanted to cry out for help... But she couldn't seem to find her voice. Everything was foggy and muddled."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands \n\nCerei stood up and shook her head, clearing her ears. She tried to walk a little ways, trying at least find the edge of the road. She stumbled over something and heard a muffled groan, and she fell over what felt like a body. She fell into a bunch of thorns and scratched up her entire body. \n\nShe screamed out, tumbling over the unknown object. A few men turned their heads and began to walk over to her. She couldn't see anything but she felt the blood oozing down her body. She slowly got up and allowed the man beside her help her up."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nA little scream that soon faded to a moan escaped her as a foot collided with her broken ribs, sending a wash of burning pain racing through her body. Right now, she felt as if pain was all she had ever known. It hurt everywhere, from her feet to the top of her head, everything was a throbbing mass of agony and blood and mangled flesh and shattered bones. \n\nThe sound of approaching men roused her from her pain-induced stupor enough for her to try to call out, whimpering in a raspy voice, \"Help... Help... Please...\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei heard what sounded like a woman's voice come from the spot where she fell, and heard a loud groan as at least three different voices grunted, and what sounded like the woman being placed on a cart. Cerei was asked several times about her condition, and she responded that she was fine every time. She was led to the cart that was heading to the town's doctor anyways. She heard the woman moaning softly and she nodded softly. \n\n\"I hope you live long enough to tell me your name.\" Cerei said, listening as the cart began to pull away from the site. Every bump cause a new ache in her side and she felt the area, and her hand felt something warm and sticky. Pain erupted through her as she realized what it was. The tip of her stick had impaled itself in her side, and her adrenaline was pumping so hard she didn't even realize it."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nEvery bump in the road seemed to jar every bone in her body, sending waves of pain washing through her over and over again. She was vaguely aware of a woman's voice speaking to her, saying something about learning her name, and she tried to respond, but her tongue felt fat and lathargic in her mouth. \"Mmph... Ihhh... Ahhheh.\" She groaned, but soon she fell silent as she tried not to scream as they bumped along. \n\nA particularly jarring bump in the road ended her efforts, and she let out a shriek before the pain overwhelmed her enough for her to lose consciousness once more. At least in darkness she found rest, and if she had been more aware of things, she probably would be grateful to pass out, truthfully. Once unconscious, pain was but a distant memory, somewhere far on the outer reaches of herself."
}
] | 210.5 | 1,894 |
216.285714 | 2020-02-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren \nWitherlands \n\nCerei tore a part of the bottom of her tunic and held it at the entrance of the stick, gritting her teeth as the pain tore through her heart and mind. She cried out, and kept the fabric there to stop the blood flow. They neared the medical building, and Cerei heard a woman approaching, screaming for two other people, Fasi and Larea to come help. A pair of strong arms carefully helped Cerei onto the ground, and set the other woman softly onto something that she heard them grunt to pick up. Cerei was led through a doorway, and she began counting the steps inside. She reached 54 before she was sat on a table that was covered by a sheet, and as a pair of very soft and steady hands touched the edge of the stick she cried out, and she was given a gag and a gulp of a very strong smelling bottle. It burned as it traveled down her throat, and she felt something drip onto her side. As the unknown liquid hit the wound her back arched as pain tore through her body, and the same pair that so carefully helped her earlier now held her steady as the protruding stick was taken out. She lost track of time and no longer felt pain for a moment, but all of a sudden everything came back. The stick was gone and her side was being patched up. \n\n\"Thank you.\" Cerei said as she was carried into another room, and laid down on a bed. She fell asleep, still clutching her purse."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nDarkness... Muffled voices and a scream... Everything was hazy and incoherent as Scarlett drifted in and out of consciousness. All she was vaguely aware of was her own pain, which at times heightened to unbearable levels before settling back into an agonizing throb that seemed to pulse with every heartbeat. \n\nThe healers had quite a bit of work to do on Scarlett's badly damaged body. Her ribs were broken, she had a broken leg, a head injury, and scrapes and cuts everywhere from sliding across the grass and dirt and landing in the brush. It certainly didn't look good for her, but the healers were able to set her broken leg, gave her some herbs to reduce the swelling, and washed and bandaged her cuts.\n\nWith all that completed, there was little more they could do for her for now, save for monitoring her and praying that the girl lived. Minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to several days as Scarlett seemed to hang on to life by a thread, but finally, after three days, she finally woke up."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nThe healers did what they could to ease her pain, but time would be the only remedy. After a day she was allowed to stand and move around, being guided by someone at all times. One of the older women cooked a meal for her anytime she asked, and she offered to pay for both her and the lady that was brought with her. She was refused, someone had already paid for both of them. \n\nAfter a few days she was told the lady that arrived with her had woken up. Cerei asked to be led to her, and the one of the women left to go ask."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nHer vision was a little blurry when she woke up, which had understandably freaked her out, but after the healers assured her that it would get better in a few days as the swelling went down, she had managed to settle down. Somewhat. She was still anxious and riddled with pain, but not nearly as bad as she was. So, when the healers came in, she was resting quietly in her bed, her eyes closed, though she heard their entrance and knew that they were in the room before they even spoke.\n\nShe agreed to have the visitor, mostly because it would be something to break up the monotony of it all. Besides, she was a tad bit curious as to who this visitor was, since the healers had said it was a she, and Scarlett didn't know anyone in this town, at least as far as she knew."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren \nWitherlands\n\nCerei was led into the room where the other patient was being cared for. She was given a rather comfortable chair, and the caregivers left the room, giving the two a chance to meet. \n\n\"They told me about what happened, and the only thing I can offer as an apology is my word. I am terribly sorry. I did not *See* The carriage approaching, nor did I see anything at all. I cannot ever hope to repay you in my current state.\" Cerei said, facing the breathing she heard. It almost seemed as if she could actually see the person lying in the bed, but alas, she was unable to. She sipped on the water skin she was given, as that was the easiest thing to hold and find the edge so she could drink. \"My name is Cerei. I wish we could have met h for different circumstances, however I am glad we met nevertheless.\" She said softly, keeping in mind that she did not know how this person was injured."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett PrynneE\nWitherleands\n\nScarlett shifted ever so slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, though she quickly discovered that the movement only brought her more pain. She grimaced a bit, stifling a groan, then opened her eyes to look at the girl standing at the foot of her bed. Everything was still blurry enough that it was hard for her to make everything out very well, but she could at least see the outline of the girl and make out all the different colors. The drab nature of the girl's outfit told her that this girl had to be a shitblood.\n\n\"I... Don't even know what happened,\" Scarlett replied with some difficulty. \"We were riding along, shouts, and then... I don't know. I don't really remember anything after that.\" There was a little pause before she finally said, \"It's nice to meet you, Cerei. I'm Scarlett.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei listened as the woman told what she could recollect, and nodded. \"You remember most of what I was told. One of the guards came and asked me a few questions, and told me the full story. Your carriage was speeding through town, and took a turn too fast for the wheels to bear the strain. You were avoiding me. I cannot see, not did I hear the warning in time. The carriage mostly avoided me, though I did fall on my own guiding tool and was injured. You were found some distance away, having been thrown from your cart. And we were taken here, but someone has already paid for our stay. May I ask a question, Ms. Scarlett?\" Cerei said, sitting down in the chair behind her and leaning back into it. \n\nShe took another sip from the skin as two food trays were brought in. Her meat was already diced by the cook, but one of the helpers carrying the tray insisted on helping Cerei eat. She was not allowed to eat by herself, a small yet absolutely annoying rule that bugged Cerei to her core."
}
] | 215 | 1,514 |
175.363636 | 2020-02-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\n\nScarlett nodded a little as she listened to the story, her mind still a little fuzzy and slow from the trauma; it was a lot to process. What had become of her carriage driver? What had become of her belongings? And where would she go now? The only real relief that Cerei's explanation brought was the fact that someone was paying for their stay, so at least the unexpected expense wouldn't put her in the poor house. \n\nWhen the food was offered to her, she shook her head a little and murmured, \"I'm not hungry.. Though I would take something to drink.\" \n\nWhile the healer got the tray situated and everything, Scarlett focused on Cerei and replied, \"Yes, yes of course.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei had to eat slowly due to the person helping her being utterly incompetent. It was as if they had never ate themselves. She paused in between bites and sighed. \"Why would anyone pay for our stay? Are you important? I am only a blind beggar from a poor part of town. No one cares about me at all.\" Cerei said, before a spoonful of the potato and meat stew was shoved in her mouth. She sputtered and tried to maintain her dignity as she ate. \n\nShe finally finished the bowl, grateful that she finally was full but extremely annoyed. \"I apologize if I ask too much, but I have seen many different types of people. Not many people around here have the type of many it takes to pay for two people to have an extended stay in a medic.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett's brow furrowed at Cerei's question, confusion etched across her face as she turned to look at the girl. Of course, Cerei was blind, so she couldn't see Scarlett's confused look; that was one thing Scarlett would have to get used to when talking to this girl. She had never met a blind person and, quite frankly, found it a little disconcerting. She hoped she didn't appear rude, at least...\n\n\"I don't know why anyone would pay for our stay,\" She replied honestly. \"I don't know anyone in this town—I don't even know what town we're in, quite frankly! But I'm certainly no one important to anyone here. Or at least I don't think I am.\" \n\nShe started to reach for the water skin, then stopped as the bruised flesh of her arm seized up, a faint grunt of pain escaping her. The healer at her side took note of this and quickly took the skin and offered it to her, except the healer wasn't very good at it and ended up dumping the water up her nose. Scarlett coughed and sputtered quite a bit, giving the woman a glare as she snapped, \"Have you never given someone a drink in your life?\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei giggled as the woman spilled the water, but immediately reverted to her respectful state. Her parents infused her with the need to not be intrusive into other people's day, to the point of intense boredom. \"That is very strange, though not impossible. Someone might have just felt bad for us.\" She said, shrugging her shoulders. \n\n\"I hate to be the cause of all of this. I can't do much, but I do have something.\" She said, grabbing the purse from around her neck. Inside was her days money, a sizable amount because of the wealthy individuals about."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nThe healer gave Scarlett a dirty look for being snippy, but the next time she gave Scarlett a drink, she was more careful and none of the water spilled. Scarlett drank deeply while she listened to Cerei, stopping just before Cerei offered the purse to her. \n\nShe stared at the bag for a moment, a little confused, but the tell-tale jingle of the coins inside told her what it was. A glance at Cerei's clothes also told her, however, that Cerei was in no position to be giving away her earnings like that. Her clothes were so drab and dreary—so different from the clothes that Scarlett wore! \n\n\"No,\" She replied, shaking her head. \"I couldn't take that from you. You need it! I'm taken care of for now, just with someone paying for the healer's. It was just an accident.\" \n\nShe smiled at Cerei as she added, \"I think people in this town must care about you more than you think.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei looked confused as Scarlett told her she didn't need it. \"What do you mean? I caused your current circumstances, so I feel the need to at least help you a little. I can always make more. It's not very... Challenging.\" Cerei said, stopping abruptly so she didn't say too much. \n\nShe paused for a moment as Scarlett spoke again. \"You think? I'm just a beggar. I'm not anything special. That's a nice idea, but utterly impossible.\" Cerei said, blushing slightly. She wasn't used to positive comments."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nShe smiled a bit at Cerei's blushing and incredulity at what Scarlett had said; Cerei seemed like such a sweet girl, and Scarlett had already taken quite a liking to her. The other girl's voice itself was soothing, and despite the circumstances, Scarlett was glad that Cerei had come to visit her. \n\n\"I doubt that,\" She replied warmly. \"You're certainly not *Just* A beggar. In any case, I can't take your money. It was an accident, and well... We shouldn't have been going so fast. Besides, I'm sure I can find some work once I'm healed.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei had never heard this many compliments in her life. Usually people automatically placed the blame on her no matter what event occurred. She tried to avoid blushing but couldn't avoid the heat burning behind her cheeks. She grinned widely for a moment, revealing the beautiful smile that was the one thing her parents forced her to maintain. \n\n\"What sort of work do you perform? You act as if it's the easiest thing in the world.\" She said, losing the grin. She was always looking for opportunities."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nIt was Scarlett's turn to blush now, a bright pink hue settling over her cheeks as she looked away from Cerei. In general she wasn't ashamed of her profession, but Cerei seemed so innocent and sweet. She didn't want Cerei to think badly of her because she was a lady of the night! If Cerei could see, she no doubt would have noticed the lettering stitched to her—\n\nHer clothes! Scarlett was distracted for a moment by the sudden realization that the clothes she had been wearing were gone, and she was now wearing a white cotton shift that, while light and comfortable, was very clearly not something she would usually wear. She hoped her belongings had been retrieved, particularly her clothes. One couldn't exactly attract customers in a shitblood's dress!\n\nShe paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself before finally replying, \"I, uh... Keep people company and such. Care for them and everything.\" Not a lie, really..."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei frowned, her mind racing. \"Wait, but that.. That wouldn't pay for...\" She said, before the look on her face changed. You could almost peer into her mind and see the lightbulb switch. \"Are you one of those women like Ms. Rulette that come out when it gets too late? The ones my mother called a *Wife-killer* And my dad called a *Whore* Because if so then I've always wanted to know what you do that makes my father get all anxious and my mother to get angry. He apparently paid for the company of one a few years ago and mother has not let it go.\" Cerei said, sharing far to many details. \n\n\"He has apologized many times, but if all you do is keep them company then I don't see an issue.\" Cerei said, grinning widely."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nHeat flushed through Scarlett's face, her face positively flaming as she stared down at the blankets covering her. She wished she could be anywhere but here, in that moment; she'd like to crawl under a rock! *Too bad the carriage didn't crush me too,* She thought morbidly. \n\nThat smile... Cerei was so innocent and sweet, and quite frankly, it would be terrible of Scarlett to let the kid know what her father had done. She cleared her throat and hesitated a moment longer before saying awkwardly, \"Maybe your mom was just, uh, worried that he'd develop feelings for his companion or something. A little jealous is all. You should, uh, ask your mom about it sometime, maybe. I, uh... I don't come out when it gets too late or anything. My... Clients... Usually seek me out.\""
}
] | 177 | 1,929 |
152.666667 | 2020-02-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\n\"That's convenient.\" She said, nodding her head. \"The people who give me money usually feel bad for me because of the stories I tell. They are mostly true, just little details are changed so I don't have to deal with people trying to visit me in my own home.\" She said, feeling the obvious tension in the air. \n\n\"I'm being cleared to leave soon, I think. They said that I didn't have any broken bones or anything, I just have to wait until the impact wound closes. I'm just confused why I haven't been visited by my parents yet. You'd think they'd be here, since it has been a while.\" She said, placing her head in her hands."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett breathed a little sigh of relief when Cerei backed off and stopped pressing the issue. She didn't want to lie to the kid, honestly, especially since she was so sweet and innocent. But part of protecting that innocence meant lying and avoiding answers to certain things. \n\n\"That will be good,\" She replied in response to Cerei being cleared to leave, \"You'll get to go home to your family, at least, though I think I'll miss you here. Maybe your parents haven't been informed yet? I'm sure they must be worried about you. Perhaps we can have one of the healers send word to them.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nA single tear rolled down Cerei's cheek as she shook her head. \"Usually they don't care much anyways. They just want me to get my daily money. My father, Brennen Davren, used to be a wealthy merchant until something happened right before I was born, and ever since his store closed he's not had a job. My mother, Sereni Davren, used to help him run the store. They say a fire took everything we had.\" She said, wiping the tear and brushing it on the tunic she wore. \n\n\"Sorry about that. I don't know why I told you all of that. But that's a good idea. I'll ask one of them to send word.\" She said softly."
}
] | 156 | 458 |
105.5 | 2020-02-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett's heart went out to Cerei and she felt horrible for the girl. Surely her parents must care! Though, to be fair, there were plenty of parents in the world that really didn't care for their children... Perhaps the fact that she was blind made Cerei's family treat her differently? She wished she could take Cerei with her on her trip! Let her see the world, at least in terms of experiences! But she could barely take care of herself right now and-\n\nHer thoughts froze, like a record screeching to a halt, at the mention of Cerei's surname. And the name of her father. A cold chill washed through her body; the name sounded familiar. Very familiar. \n\n\"Davren, you say?\" Her voice shaking ever so slightly."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren \nWitherlands \n\n\"Oh yes! It's my family name. But why is that bothering you?\" She asked, noticing the tremble in her voice. \n\nAround this time one of the nurses were on the way to request the parents of Cerei Davren to join them."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett hesitated for what felt like an eternity, silence hanging heavily in the room and threatening to suffocate her if she didn't tell Cerei everything she knew. But there was no need to worry Cerei unnecessarily! It probably wasn't even related... \n\nShe bit her lower lip hard, her hands clasping the blankets tightly, balling into fists before she finally managed, \"I knew someone by that last name once.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei paused, taken aback from the sudden pause. \"You knew someone? I've never met anyone with my last name before. Are you sure it was Davren?\" She asked, thinking as much as she could. \n\n\"If you have the wrong name that's weird. To think someone has that similar of a name.\" She said, grinning slightly."
}
] | 92 | 422 |
144.833333 | 2020-02-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nThere was an interminable silence that seemed to last forever before Scarlett finally murmured, \"Yes... Very odd... I'm probably mistaken.\" \n\nYet, somewhere in her gut, she knew that she wasn't. She knew that last name, and it wasn't one that she could confuse with another for the very reason Cerei said she had to be wrong: she had never met someone else with that last name or with one similar. Plus, it was hard to forget someone that had been so conceited that she was forced to repeat it over and over again during service, which in and of itself had occurred on more than one occasion. \n\nShe hesitated a moment, then managed a meager smile and tried to sound chipper as she said, \"Maybe my mind has just been sloshed around so much with the wreck that I'm remembering wrong. Took quite a tumble, that's for sure.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\n\"Do you happen to remember their first name? I may can tell you if it was another member of my family, of which there are not much.\" She said, placing her arms on her legs to try to keep them warm. The room was beginning to chill because the fire had gone out, but Cerei only knew it was cold. \n\n\"Do you happen to have a spare blanket or anything?\" She asked, beginning to shiver."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne \nWitherlands \n\nConcern washed over Scarlett's face as she noticed Cerei's shivering, and she quickly took the blanket from her bed and offered it to Cerei. Stretching a bit, she was able to reach close enough for the girl to reach out and take it as she said, \"It's right in front of you. If you reach straight out, I think you can reach.\" \n\nShe purposely \"Forgot\" Cerei's other question. She wasn't quite sure on the memory of the first name, as she had primarily called him \"Master Davren,\" But the first name that Cerei had given as her father's sounded so familiar..."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei nodded and began to reach out, grabbing the blanket but losing balance and falling to the floor. \"Fuck!\" She said, holding her side. It began to ache and she felt it, feeling something warm and sticky. \"Um. I... I...\" She said, beginning to panic. She grabbed the blanket and held it to her side as it began to be soaked. \n\n\"I need help!\" She called out, beginning to cry as the pain amplified. A healer rushed into the room and began applying pressure to the wound."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett automatically responded to Cerei's cry and tried to crawl out of bed herself to get to her, but the splint on her leg and the pain that washed over her when she tried to move was too great. To her relief, the healer arrived just moments later, and Scarlett flopped back into the mattress with a belabored sigh. \n\n\"I'm sorry, Cerei,\" She said, her voice quivering a bit with tears. \"I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have made you try to get it. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you!\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands \n\nCerei grit her teeth to force a smile through the pain as the healer wrapped her side. \"I... Am fine.\" She said softly, sitting up. She was led back to a sofa and allowed to lie down with the blanket so the two could still speak, and was given some wine to sip on to ease the pain. \n\n\"It was my fault. I should not have been so eager to not keep my balance.\" She said, before asking the healer a question. \"Is there a staff of sorts I could have? I need something to be my eyes.\" She said, alluding to the stick she once had. She was told they were making her a long slender oak staff that would allow her to check areas in front of her without her bumping into things, which would be better than the one she previously had."
}
] | 138.5 | 869 |
309.444444 | 2020-02-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett still felt horribly guilty, particularly when the healer gave her a look of disapproval. Clearly, she shouldn't have done that with the blanket. This was her fault! She bit her lower lip hard and looked away from Cerei and the healer, staring intently at the blanket that still covered her as if it somehow had something incredibly interesting about it. \n\n\"No, not right now,\" The healer said. \"Your staff isn't done yet, and for that matter, you really shouldn't be going anywhere or doing much of anything. You'll reopen your wound once again!\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands \n\nCerei frowned and closed her eyelids, even though it did nothing, and raised her finger in a rude gesture. \"I cannot be caged like some animal. I may be blind but I still need activity. I cannot wait until I get out of here and finally go home.\" She said, as a man dressed in fine clothes burst through the door. \n\n\"Is Lady Davren here? Is she present? I need to speak with her.\" He said, panting from obvious strain. \n\n\"Lady? You must be mistaken. I am no lady. But I am Cerei Davren.\" Cerei said, a look of bewilderment sprawled across her face.\n\n\"Look Ms. Cerei. There is a lot that I must inform you of, but we must simply speak in private.\" He said, trying to get the room clear. \n\n\"Neither of us can move, so anything you say to me will be heard by the both of us.\" Cerei said, interlocking her fingers over her heart. \n\n\"Alright, but I warned you. Your father is dead, and your mother is suspected of the act. She is no where to be found. With his death and her disappearance you are now the sole heir of the Davren fortune. You might have noticed your bills have been paid for, along with Ms. Scarlett's. There is cause for this, your family comes from a long line of wealthy lords and ladies. Your father, Brennen Mercer Davren, chose to leave the family after his many years of adulterous acts. Ms. Scarlett might know a thing or two about those acts, though that is unimportant at the moment. We must discuss the matter of the fortune that is now in your possession.\" He said, handing her a ring of ornate keys. \"You now own what is left of the Davren family. A home in the beautiful countryside, a key to a vault in that home that holds many riches and jewels. Those are your family heirlooms. You also gain access to your parent's home here. You may do what you wish with these things, and I, Lucius Grey, will assist you with any needs you may have.\" Lucius said, before leaving the room stating she needed a moment to process what he told her. \n\nCerei paused, in total shock. She didn't say a word."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett looked true to her name as the man spoke of Cerei's father's adultery and her knowledge of them, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red so that her skin nearly matched the color of her hair. Of course, she knew that many of her clients had families and wives and such, but the acts were done in the dark; in bedrooms and inns, far away from peering eyes. They were never meant to be brought to light, and once Cerei knew what Scarlett really was, well, it wouldn't surprise her if Cerei never spoke to her again and expected Scarlett to repay her. \n\nShe stayed silent, though her heart hammering in her chest sounded loud enough that she was sure that Cerei must be able to hear it too. She could scarcely even breathe; between a combination of badly bruised ribs and the shock of the news that had just been given to them, her breaths were shallow and halting, barely audible. \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" She finally managed to say in a soft, choked voice. \"I'm so sorry about your father and mother. I'm sure your mother didn't do it! And... And I'm sorry... You had to find out like this.\" She wanted to apologize for her involvement with Brennen Davren as well, but it was so hard to say. And besides, she had just been doing what she was paid to do... Never before had she come face to face with the family of one of her clients, and she hoped she never would again!"
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei heard Scarlett's words, but didn't process them. \"They had money? They had money and made me beg like an animal, thinking I had to get money to survive? They made me tell lies to so many people even though they clearly didn't need the money?\" She said, curling up and putting her head between her knees, her legs bouncing up and down.\n\n\"Years of not knowing if the money I made that day would be enough to buy food and they were well off? I begged from sun up to sun down to find out that they had a whole other home to go back to? What the fuck? What is wrong with these people?\" She began to sob, reeling over the realization. After a few moments she stopped, and looked right at Scarlett, the whites of her eyes shining. This was the first look that many get from Cerei. She stared in the direction that Scarlett's voice had been coming from. \n\n\"You are not to blame for this. Not at all. In fact, you have been a better family to me in the past ten minutes than they have my entire life.\" She said calmly, tears no longer running down her face."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne \nWtherlands\n\nScarlett desperately wanted to reach out and hug Cerei-to try to comfort her-but the girl was too far away and Scarlett couldn't get up currently. She still felt horrible though... In one moment, Cerei had lost everything, and yet in a way, had gained everything too. She truly didn't know how to help her... She wanted to, but what could she do, really? \n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Scarlett said again. \"I... I wish I didn't... I... I promise I'll repay you for what it cost for my care and everything.\" Tears were trickling down her own face now, largely due to a combination of grief *For* Cerei and embarrassment and discomfort at facing someone who was hurt by her client and her business. \n\nGranted, Cerei's response made her wonder if Cerei had registered what Scarlett really did; whether she knew what sort of adultery this was. \n\n\"It is partially my fault,\" She finally said in a soft voice. \"I... I am a... A whore.\" Her voice broke a little bit. \"Just like your parents said. Your father... The name was familiar because your father was one of my clients, and a frequent one at that. I... Am just a higher order of the woman you said that comes out at night. My services are just a little more expensive and a little more discreet. I'm so sorry, Cerei.\" \n\nIt pained her to voice it. Her profession was obvious to anyone else, with her clothes and the letter stitched to them that clearly denoted what she was. Even the healers were well aware of what Scarlett did for a living... But Cerei had been so innocent and so sweet; so blissfully unaware of what Scarlett was. Scarlett had enjoyed it much more than she would like to admit. Cerei, because of her blindness, was one of the few people that saw past the clothes and the profession to actually talk to Scarlett as if she was a normal person."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei shook her head and wiped her eyes. \"It truly does not matter to me what your past is like. I have lied to countless people to make my family money, and now I have found out they have lied to me my entire life. You are providing a service that brings happiness to some, and I respect that. It may not be conventional or socially accepted by those who condemn it but it does not matter. Obviously my father had his issues. You were doing what you were paid to do. I just don't understand why he lied. He was my best friend. He held me when people called me every name imaginable. I sobbed in the crook of his neck because I could not see what he looked like. I don't know how to live with myself without them. Yet I am glad to be away from that life.\" She said, uncurling from the fetal position she had held. \n\n\"You do not owe me anything. This is how I will repay you for your troubles. I am offering you a chance to get out of having to sleep with others to make money. Stay with me, I need someone now that my family is dead. You can leave as you please, I just want someone to talk to. You will always have a place to stay with me.\" Cerei said, slowly standing up. She felt her way to the bed and sat down on it, careful to sit where she felt nothing underneath but bedding. \"Thank you Scarlett, for trying to protect me.\" She said softly."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett was touched by everything that Cerei had just said. For someone so young, Cerei had a certain wisdom and poise about her that made her seem much older, though she supposed blindness would do that to someone. Cerei had clearly had to grow up fast, begging on the streets. \n\nCerei's offer gave her pause though. Could Scarlett really just turn her back on her old life like that? How many times had she laid there at night, tired and used up, wondering how much longer she could continue this line of work and wishing she had something more? But no one would marry a prostitute, and she had no useful skills that could provide her with a living. She wanted to leap at the chance, but Cerei's newfound advancement in the social spheres... Well, her blindness was enough of a barrier. She didn't need someone like Scarlett around to further peril her reputation. \n\nYet, without her family, Cerei would have no one to care for her. No one to help navigate her new life. Of course, Lucius appeared to be a servant of some sort, but how much could he be trusted and how useful could he be? Cerei would need someone just as badly as Scarlett needed someone. And hadn't Scarlett been trying to escape the plague anyway? Life would be safer with Cerei. \n\nShe was silent for a long time before she finally murmured, \"I... I will accept your offer. We can help each other, I think, at least for the time being. And it's not necessary to thank me, Cerei. I wish I could do more.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands \n\nCerei smiled as a lonely tear rolled down her cheek. \"I'm glad you accepted. We can help each other.\" She said, before wiping her eye. She called for Lucius. \n\n\"I am ready to speak again.\" She said, wiping her nose with the handkerchief he offered. \n\n\"We must discuss the matters of your new status. You will not be asked to function in any actual state of affairs at the moment, though you may in the future. Your family is not the most powerful, but it does have a say should the time arise. As soon as you are well I will take you to the manor.\" He said, taking the handkerchief back. \n\n\"Scarlett will be joining me. Even though you can help me, I need a woman's help. I may be blind but I want to live a life. Take her and have her fitted for new clothes, clothes fit for a queen.\" Cerei said, smiling because she had never been able to help anyone before. \n\n\"Now you can live a life without fear of being recognized by your past life. You would be surprised how much a simple change of clothes can affect a person. Not that I would know though.\" Cerei said, giggling a little because of her own joke."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett had a feeling that Lucius would not approve of her, though he didn't show it, if he did. But he clearly knew what she was, and how could he approve of her if that was the case? Besides, he probably thought she had conned her way into this, though of course she hadn't asked for Cerei to do this for her. It had just sort of happened. \n\nScarlett sat up a little from where she laid, grunting slightly with the effort. There was no way she was going anywhere right now, not without a lot of help, and even that would probably end painfully. \n\n\"Thank you, Cerei,\" She said softly, touched by the gesture. \n\nShe looked up at Lucius, cheeks flushing slightly as she did so, and continued, \"I'm a bit... Indisposed at the moment... But I can give you my measurements if you have something for me to write them down with.\""
}
] | 323 | 2,785 |
209.333333 | 2020-02-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei grinned as Scarlett put Lucius in his place. \"I.. Apologize.\" He said, obvious embarrassment oozing out of his voice. \n\n\"Blue and green, excellent choice. Though I would have gone for a more toned down fabric.\" He said, reading over the list. \"Are you sure these measurements are correct? I would hate to get these made and they be wrong.\" He said, but watched her nod. \"Fine. Now that that is settled, I must make arrangements for your eventual movement to the manor. You have a nice rest of the afternoon, and I will be back later this evening.\" Lucius said, bowing and leaving. \n\n\"I am so sorry. That was uncalled for. But that was amazing how you put him in his place!\" Cerei said, laughing. \"How was his face?\" She asked, leaning up and fixing the uncomfortable blanket."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett chuckled a bit at the look on Cerei's face and her laugh. It was a pretty laugh, and a little part of Scarlett wanted to do things to hear that laugh more often. For the first time in a long time, she found that she had a friend; someone that wasn't just there to get something out of her. \n\n\"Priceless,\" She replied, holding back a giggle. \"His face was so red, and he looked like a kid that was just scolded by their mother! It was great!\"\n\nShe smiled as she leaned back into her pillows, giggling again before saying, \"He seems like a real stick in the mud anyway. Doesn't hurt him to be put in his place every now and again anyway.\" \n\nShe paused, smile fading, then said, \"I hope I don't impose or cost too much with my clothes and everything, Cerei. You probably would be better off if you didn't associate with me. You'll have a hard enough time fitting into their world as it is, let alone with the likes of me hanging around you.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei nodded. \"He seems to be, doesn't he.\" She said, grinning. She frowned as pain laced up her side, but it subsided before long. \n\n\"I won't fit in their world anyways. I grew up a beggar on the side of the road, hoping for these type of people to give me something. You fit in their world better than I do.\" She said, the smile disappearing. \n\n\"How am I supposed to fit in a world I cannot even find my own way in? How can I fit into a world I can not even see? I have to rely on other people for everything it seems like. I would trade anything for working eyes of my own.\" Cerei said, biting the inside of her cheek. \n\n\"Sorry. I just get so exhausted of always being a burden on everyone. I just want to be a helper for once.\" She said, turning the pillow under her."
}
] | 198 | 628 |
196.666667 | 2020-03-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\n\"It's alright,\" Scarlett said gently, wanting to calm Cerei down and make her feel better. As much as Scarlett disliked Lucius, he would be of more use to Cerei than she would be, and it was important that Cerei maintained a relationship with him. Besides, it wasn't healthy for Cerei to get herself so worked up when she was still so badly injured! Scarlett could see the pain etched across Cerei's face, and that in and of itself pained Scarlett. \n\nShe smiled at Cerei, continuing with, \"The truth hurts sometimes, yes? Though I appreciate your willingness to defend me. For now, it's more important that we focus on getting you better and settled into your new life.\"\n\nShe cast a disapproving glance at Lucius as she added, \"I'm assuming that we both want what's best for Cerei, and upsetting her to the point of pain isn't in either of our job descriptions, I don't think. When will we leave?\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\nCerei smiled and sat back down. \"Thank you. Though it might be a while before you are ready to leave.\" She said, closing her eyelids. All of a sudden a caw rang out, and Cerei jumped from the sudden noise. \n\nLucius walked outside and came back in a few moments later holding a weathered folded paper. \"It appears to be a letter.\" He said, unfolding it and reading its contents. \"Unfortunately we will not be going to the manor after all. A council is forming in Taemar, because it appears to be the last place on Earth that the Rat Plague has not yet touched. I think it's a good place to start, Cerei.\" Lucius said, looking up. \"You may not be sworn in yet as the official ruler of House Davren but you can still go to this council if you wish.\" He said, holding the letter out so Scarlett could read it."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nThe words seemed to blur before her as she realized that Taemar was the one place where they might be safe. That was what she had wanted when this whole ordeal began, wasn't it? Somewhere safe to ride out the plague. And now, with Cerei's wealth, they could get to Taemar safely, without coming into contact with anyone that had been infected. \n\nShe skimmed over the letter once more, then turned to Cerei as she said, \"I think we should go. We'll be safer there, and maybe they'll figure out why Taemar seems to be unaffected and we can bring a cure back here, to everyone in your domain.\"\n\nCatarina Tanner\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nCatarina woke with a start, frosted lashes opening like dandelion seeds being whipped away by a stiff spring breeze. Ah, if only spring were here! It would be at least a little warmer!\n\nHer teeth were chattering, it was still dark, and the fire had gone out, save for a few of the last embers that glowed faintly, clinging to their last breath. Quickly, she sat up and looked around, moving a little closer to the fire and reaching for some wood and a long stick to hopefully rouse the fire back to life. \n\nYet something was off. Something that gave her pause. She stopped, her hand part way towards the firewood, and glanced around the campfire, looking for her companions and what had woken her. It wasn't just the cold. Something..."
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands \n\n\"I agree. It seems to be the best idea that anyone has, though if we do go we must be prepared for the journey, maybe it's a good idea to buy a carriage. We can load it down with supplies and set out tomorrow if you all are ok with that. There would be enough room to lie down during the journey and as long as someone is awake to drive we would be fine.\" Cerei said, agreeing with the two. \n\n\"Lucius, you can handle the arrangements can't you?\" Cerei said. \n\n\"Of course I can.\" He said softly."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett nodded, her brow furrowed with anxiety. And yet, despite her fear of the plague and her new position in life, she found that, for the first time since the accident, she was feeling genuine hope again. Like a breath of fresh air, it gave her new life, and she pushed herself up so that she was sitting in a more proper position than she had in quite some time. \n\n\"Thank you,\" She said to Lucius. \n\nAnd to Cerei, \"I hope this will be a good trip for you. You'll get to experience the world, for once!\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren was so used to the cold, she actually felt comfortable sleeping in the pile of hay next to the big ox that pulled the cart. With all the wrappings and capes she had been given, she was curled up in her nest without a hair on her head sticking out. In fact, with a warm meal, this was the most comfortable that Maren had ever been in her entire life.\n\nShe breathed evenly, but was awoken by Catarina's movements and shuffling. She poked her head up, allowing the bitter coldness to hit her. She inhaled and winced. The coldness biting at her lungs was a bitter reminder of where she was. She looked over at Cat and cocked her head. \n\n\"Morning...?\""
}
] | 181 | 1,180 |
291.833333 | 2020-03-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett giggled when Cerei apologized for swearing, then said, \"You're not a child, Cerei. You don't need to apologize for swearing, certainly not in front of me.\" She smiled ruefully and added, \"Perhaps it wouldn't be accepted in your new social circles in public, but believe me, they all swear behind closed doors.\" \n\nShe leaned back and closed her eyes, starting to feel a little tired now that most of the excitement had died down. \n\n\"You'll be fine,\" She continued, doing her best to reassure her young friend. \"Just take it one day at a time. It'll take time to adjust, but you're smart and you're kind. You'll do just fine. And Lucius and I are here to help you every step of the way. But for now, I'm feeling really tired... Do you mind if I rest? I want to be ready to travel tomorrow.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren \nWitherlands \n\nCerei smiled. \"Thank you so much. And of course you can rest. I will go lie down and try to sleep as well.\" Cerei said, smiling and standing up. She turned and walked out the room, the *Tap* Leading her away. A small woman touched her hand and Cerei jumped, but the woman spoke softly and explained that she would help Cerei to her room. Cerei nodded and was led to the bedroom that she had woken up in, and she laid on the bed. \n\n\"Good night Miss Davren.\" The lady said.\n\n\"Goodnight. But please call me Cerei.\" She said, turning over and slowly closing her eyes. \n\nA few hours later she was woken up by Lucius, who informed her it was time to begin getting ready. \"Alright.\" She said, rubbing her sightless eyes. She stood up and felt around, grabbing her stick and walking over to the edge of the room. \n\n\"Your new clothes came in. Blue and white were chose for you, as those are the colors of your house. Mrs. Green will help you into them, and I will have the carriage waiting on you. Everything is packed except for food, and we are only waiting on the last bit of water to be loaded on.\" He said, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. \n\nCerei smiled, and allowed Mrs. Grein to assist her bathing. Her hair was scrubbed of the dirt and blood that had been sitting in it, and her skin felt like it was being ripped from her body. All of the grime was cleaned off, and a small towel was wrapped around her body as her clothes were laid out. She grimaced as the wound on her side rubbed against the beautiful garment that now graced her frame, and she was finally laced into some boots that would support her feet throughout the journey. Her deep brown hair was somehow wrangled into a semblance of care. She was led out into the main hall, and Lucius smiled when he saw her. \n\n\"We are almost ready.\""
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Catarina Tanner\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nShe blinked in the darkness, peering out into the looming shadows around them. With inky black clouds covering the stars and the moon, and with the fire out, it was almost impossible to see anything. She could just barely make out Shaye and Maren, and they weren't far from her at all. \n\nHer blindness in the dark made her even more nervous, but she knew that hadn't been what woke her up. Whatever was out there had stopped moving for the moment; their eyes, however, were still locked on them. Cat could feel it, and it sent shivers down her spine. Whatever it was felt sinister...\n\nQuickly, she snatched up a nearby stick of firewood, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles were white, peeking out through the holes in her mittens. \n\n\"Something's out there,\" She said in a hushed tone, her eyes sweeping nervously in front of her. It was there, somewhere, but she couldn't exactly pinpoint its location. \n\n\"Shaye...\" She continued, her voice just barely above a whisper. \"Get the fire started. Something's out there. It's... Maybe with the fire going it will go away.\"\n\nScarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nLucius had come storming into her room like a demon this morning, ripping open her curtains so that the first rays of dawn came bursting in and practically blinded her. When she had merely groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up over her, he had shaken her roughly in enough to jar her wounds and bruised bones, thoroughly rousing her. Gods she hated the man! He had been ordering her about since the morning began, reminding her that, as a servant of Cerei, she was to be up before her and attend to her needs as much as possible, though he had informed her that he was aware of her injuries and would grant her some leniency because of it. \n\nShe was tempted to inform Cerei of what he had said and done, but she didn't want any bickering on the road. Besides, in all fairness, he knew better than anyone how a royal house was to operate and what Scarlett's function should be. Scarlett wanted to act as much like a lady as possible. \n\nWith a great deal of effort, she had made it out of bed and gotten dressed, though by the time she was done, she was left sitting on the edge of the bed, drenched in sweat, and breathing rather heavily. Her wounds still bothered her a great deal, and this trip would no doubt take a lot out of her. She just hoped she could keep up and not be a burden on Cerei. \n\nFinally, she managed to hobble out to the waiting area, where she sat on a stiff wooden chair and waited for Cerei, along with Lucius. When she saw her friend, she smiled brightly and said cheerily, \"You look beautiful! Like a true lordsblood!\""
},
{
"author": "munchy_",
"message": "Maren Tockett\nWitherlands Roadside\n\nMaren pulled herself up out of her best, leaving a lot of the blankets behind as she was just in her long-sleeved sweater and dress that she had run away in the first place. She had heard Catarina saying something out there. Wolves... Again? She searched around, peering into the darkness.\n\n\"Miss... Cat...?\" She asked, a bit of confusion in her voice. She backed up toward the fire and crouched down near it. \"What is it...?\" She whispered hurriedly. She was small. Weak. Easily take-out-able. \"Is it a monster?\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren \nWitherlands \n\nCerei giggled. \"Thanks, even though you probably don't mean it.\" She said, before being helped onto the carriage. There weren't many people going with them, only Lucius, Cerei, and Scarlett would be riding on the carriage. A comfortable resting spot was laid out in the rear.\n\n\"I am so excited. It'll be my first trip away in my life.\" She said, almost bubbling with excitement."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nCerei's excitement was contagious and brought Scarlett renewed energy, lifting her up from her rude awakening this morning and putting her in a much better mood. She was excited to travel with her young friend to the council, and more importantly, to get out of the Witherlands and somewhere that they'd be safe from the plague! Hopefully Cerei hadn't been exposed to it while she was out begging on the streets, though by now she should have shown symptoms. If she was carrying it, well, Scarlett was probably already as good as dead. \n\nLucius ended up having to help Scarlett into the wagon and to resting spot in the back, but once she was settled in, she laid there quietly and found that it was decently comfortable. It would likely be less so, once they got bumping and rolling down the road, but for now it was fine. Lucius didn't look pleased about having to help her. Hopefully he'd get over it. \n\n\"I hope that we'll get to have many more,\" Scarlett said, once Cerei was also settled into the wagon. \"You have so much to do and try and experience!\""
}
] | 223 | 1,751 |
324.666667 | 2020-04-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands\n\n\n\nCerei nodded. \"I don't disagree, though I feel like traveling with me would be a burden. If only there were a way for me to gain my sight. I want to see. That's the only thing I have ever wanted.\" Cerei said, a tear forming in her eye. \n\nThe trio rode in silence for a while, and the only noise was the whisper of the wind blowing through the trees. The road twisted and turned through the thick forest they were now traveling through. A sudden cry rang through the silence, splitting the air. An eagle dove through the sky, catching a mouse in the grass. Cerei reached her arm out to feel the wind, and the eagle turned in mid flight. It dove again, this time aiming for the cart. It landed, screeching. Lucius turned to scare it away before noticing what was happening. It sat on Cerei's arm peacefully, ripping the mouse to shreds with its beak. It's soft call rang through the night, and it made its perch on Cerei's shoulder. She seemed pleased, and turned to the bird. \"You found me. I thought you were dead.\" She said, smiling. \"Sorry guys. I found Izti hurt once. She usually only pops up and leaves immediately. She's harmless to me.\" She said, sitting the bird on the rail that sat beside her seat."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nWitherlands\n\nScarlett flinched as the bird came swooping down, cowering from it a bit and wrinkling her nose as the bird began tearing the little creature to shreds right in front of her. *Ewwww!* She thought, a look of shared disgust and horror appearing on both her and Lucius' face. Perhaps the one thing they would ever agree on! Scarlett might be a whore, but she was also a lady and had lived a life among the wealthy long enough to have certain standards.\n\nThankfully, Cerei couldn't see either of their reactions, and both of them carefully avoided letting their disgust at the creature fill their voice. In any case, the slaughter of the little animal aside, it was interesting to know that Cerei had nursed this bird back to health; it spoke to Cerei's character as a person and made Scarlett admire her a bit more. \n\n\"That's amazing that you nursed her back to health,\" Scarlett replied. \"She clearly hasn't forgotten your kindness.\""
},
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nWitherlands \n\n\"I guess. We helped each other. She gave me company when no one else would.\" Cerei said, with a faraway look in her eyes. Her voice sounded like it was longing for something, like a hole that was not filled had just been reopened. Cerei's face darkened, and her fingers stroked the tiny head of the stunning bird beside her. \"She gave me something to hope for, freedom to do whatever I wanted. She can do what I cannot. She can fly high above everything else and I am forced here, forced to rely on others to even rise out of my chair. It's not fair, but life isn't fair either...\" Cerei said, while the sound of her voice trailed off.\n\nCerei stayed quiet, keeping company with her thoughts for a while. She didn't respond to anyone, but her fingers kept stroking the bird, which eventually closed its eyes and rested. Cerei leaned back in the carriage seat and closed her own eyes, feeling the wind on her face and arms, and took a deep breath through her nose. The smells of the forest settled in her nose. She could almost hear the life that resided there, like the small family of rodents snuggled in a small borough underneath the berry bush or the elk tracking through the trees in search of food. Emotions wafted through her as each new smell struck her, and she began to smile. It was almost overwhelming. All of these new feelings poured into her being as nature affected her for the first time, and she understood why her father spent so much time tracking animals out here. Even without her sight she felt a connection out in the wild.\n\n\"I am sorry. It was not my place to declare that. I'm just complaining because I do not have the advantages that others do. I must fight harder in order to survive.\" She said, finding a thick lock of her hair and brushing her fingers through it. She longed more than ever to feel her mother's soft hands performing their dance, interlocking her hair into loose knots that kept it all out of her face. Even though it didn't affect her sight the feel of it was dreadful."
}
] | 299 | 974 |
287.25 | 2020-04-27 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff**\n*Grand Stead, On the Streets, Witherlands*\n\nWhy in the bloody hell Aria was in Grand Stead even escaped her logic. It was somehow colder than she remembered, and the hunter regretted her choice of having traveled here in the first place. Sure, Theis had called in another favor, and like always she had followed through. But did it have to be bloody fucking Grand Stead?! \n\n\"I swear, that little man is pushing me patience. Bastard is lucky I owed him.\" She shivered against the wind, her hands pulled the furs around her closer to her body. Any warmth she could gain, Aria was definitely grasping for it. It was true that Witherlands was their best trade for furs and pelts, especially since the warmer coasts of Marin had more wild life to hunt. Still, she would not ever get over the ice and snow these lands were covered by. Even poor Gwynt showed his disdain for the weather; said avian was wrapped in a larger pouch in the furs she was wearing. It had been specially designed for these travels, ever since the unfortunate incident from past years that was never to be spoken of again. \n\nOtherwise, the girl was making her way through the streets of the capital, eyes trained on the passerby as the duo strolled along. There was no urgent matter to get to, and it was small moments like these that Aria took with great care."
},
{
"author": "nonaette",
"message": "Luca Dinero \n*Grand Stead, On the Streets, Witherlands* \n\nLuca was suffering. He was cold, no beyond cold. Frozen, yes frozen was the correct word for him at this moment. Snow and ice was unknown to Luca, he's used to tropical rainforest, warm weather. Not snow and ice! He was there for a job request, translate for me, and seeing as Luca knew Silvertongue that payed off big time. But why Grand Stead!? \n\nHe shivered as he took step after step, foot sinking into the snow each time as he stepped. But still, he was at least somewhat prepared, his hair was pulled into his face from his hoodie though. *'Why is this coat so expensive if I'm still cold?'* He couldn't comprehend it, why was this coat so warm yet so cold at the same time. \n\nAs he took one last step, he realized that something new became his enemy. Ice. Ice confuses him, *'why is it slippery?'* But that was the last of his problems. Why, you may ask? Because he's sliding right into a woman that was minding her own business and he couldn't stop."
},
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff** \n*Grand Stead, On the Streets, Witherlands* \n\nAria was busy making her mental list of ways to torture Theis upon her return, so the fact that she should have been paying attention was beyond her comprehension at the moment. Especially the crucial moment when she found herself knocked to the ground by another force. With a rather unfeminine squawk (that she would forever swear came from Gwynt, not her) the new group fell to the icy stones, the impact quite painful and pain-inducing. \n\nShe groaned, already she felt the snow clinging to her furs, soaked. The hunter took another second before she felt anger raising its ugly head within her. Fueled, she began to spout out random curses and swears at her offender, some rather more colorful than others. As she started to regain her footing, the girl shouted \"Ya bloody fucking idiot! Ya know how gods be damed *Cold* It is?! I don't know 'bout yas, but all I know-\" Just as Aria was about to continue her rant, brown eyes blink and focus on the bastard. \n\nWell. *He* Definitely did not belong in the cold either. The poor arse was looking like a mangled dog who had seen better days. \"Yikes.\" She awkwardly scratched at her head, attempting to remedy this situation. That was now most certainly drawing the attention of others. Great. \"Umm... Sorry?\" As she tried to think of something else, the girl held out her hand towards the stranger, letting a slight smile grace her face. \"Look, sorry 'bout that. Witherlands never agreed with me.\""
},
{
"author": "nonaette",
"message": "Luca Dinero \n*Grand Stead, On the Streets, Witherlands* \n\n New note: Ice hurts. Another new note, people can make animal noises! Luca never knew that, he wondered if he could make animal noises too, but that was the least of his problems right now, seeing as the lady he had knocked into was now hovering over him. \n\nHe looked up at her, with his hood up and hair on either side of his face. He of course looked like a poor cat looking up at the lady silently his big blue eyes wide, still shivering. He was going through it honestly. But he tilted his head silently as she stopped. \n\nHe paused for a second. Looking at her hand and then back at her face and then back at her hand. He blinked once and took her hand, standing up making sure it was proper snow instead of ice. \"It is okay.\" He bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect with his tribe. Though people never really understood what it meant when he did that as it confused him really it did. \"I am sorry for bumping into you.\" He stood with almost perfect posture, his voice was smooth almost formal in a way."
}
] | 277 | 1,149 |
364.8 | 2020-04-28 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff** \n*Grand Stead, On the Streets, Witherlands* \n\nAria pulled the man up, making sure to maintain her own posture. Once they had settled, the stranger was kind enough to apologize, and she automatically felt horrid for how she had spoken. Ugh, why was this bloke polite? Now she needed to get rid of this looming guilt. \"Nah, it happens often 'round these parts. Don't have any clue how them Witherlanders can walk around so calmly. Must have abs of steel or somethin's.\" She chuckled at her words, trying to lighten the awkward mood. \n\nOthers were definitely staring, so the hunter shot them brief glares, causing them to move on with their day. \"Anyways, sorry 'bout me yellin'. I ain't a big lover of the eternal winters here. Warmer places are me true calling.\" Before she could continue, another very animal-like screech sounded from her coat. With a huff, Aria opened her coat and said \"Listen, did ya break anything? No? Then be glads ya are in much better heat than me.\" The source of the noise, her falcon, poked his head out and screeched again, obviously discontent and somewhat berating his mistress. \"Yeah, yeah. Go back in, ya spoiled brat.\" \n\nAs he returned, she turned back to her companion and gave a slight grin. \"That be Gwynt. He don't like this cold either. But he puts up more of a fuss than I.\" After a few more moments, she smacked her forehead and stated \"Gods! I be rude. I'm Aria. Aria Griff, if ya want a full name.\" The woman then gestured to a nearby pub and said \"Ta make up for me rudeness, let me buy ya some food and drink. Ya looks like ya need a good old warm broth and drink. Plus, I know some good places 'round here. Good deals.\""
},
{
"author": "nonaette",
"message": "Luca Dinero \n*Grand Stead, On the streets, Witherlands* \n\nLuca titled his head like a cat, *'If it happens often, why does nobody do something? Destroy the ice and it will never come back. Simple.'* You see, Luca has never really experienced *Cold*. He's and Islander, Rain and heat is all he knows. None of this snow or ice stuff is in his dictionary, *'It must be a curse! That's it, a curse. They must break it'* He will ask later, seeing as the woman is still speaking. \n\nHe listened, and was about to speak until another screech came from her. He jumped of course taken back by this woman's ability to produce animal noises. *'That would have been useful in hunts...'* He thought and tilted his head to the side again seeing a- a bird!? His eyebrows furrowed and mouth scrunched, he was confused. Very very confused. \n\nHe looked back to Aria continuing to listen to her talk, *'The bird is Gwynt. Noted.'* It is rude to not introduce oneself so he spoke, \"My name is Lucian Dinerliano. But for some reason, everyone calls me Luca.\" He didn't quite understand the concept of nickname, his name is his name and that's it. \"I would like to go anywhere except this cursed land.\". He of course calls it the cursed land because in his eyes it is cursed."
},
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff** \n*On the streets of Grand Stead, Witherlands* \n\nA loud laugh erupted from the girl as she shook from the sound. Ebbing into giggles, Aria strode over and hooked and arm around the male, lips pulled into a wide grin. \"Yeah, ya have some parts of a mind left if ya wanna leave.\" She began to drag him along, feet already having a destination in mind for their next meal and drink. Mindful to watch for more ice, she said \"I like ya, Lucian. As for that nickname, it's just somethin' we mainlanders like ta do. Easier ta say names and shit, ya know?\" \n\nAs they continued along the hunter couldn't hold back her curiosity. \"So, what island ya be from Lucian? Or are ya fine with Luca? Whichever works for ya, Imma call ya it.\" She could sense the stares from others, but Aria chose to ignore them. Who cared what the folks thought? Cold bastards should mind their own business. \n\n\"Ah, here we go!\" They stopped in front of a pub, a icy sign with the name *The Thick Yeti* Etched into the brown wood. \"I like this place. Good food and ale! And,\" She held the door open, gesturing for him to come inside, \"It has the best fireplace in this bloody cursed land.\""
},
{
"author": "nonaette",
"message": "Luca Dinero \n*Grand Stead, On the Streets, Witherlands* \n\nHe once again jumped at the sound of her voice, *'She can make loud sounds to scare animals too? Wow, that would be useful'* He thought as his arm was hooked apparently. \"Ah, so it is a mainland thing. I am fine with it.\" He walked with her also keeping out for that thing known as 'ice'. *'This land had to be cursed, be it by a witch probably. Poor locals having to live under a witches curse forever.'* He looked around the wintry landscape and then back to Aria. \n\n\"I do not exactly know which island I am from. We never had an exact name for the island. But, I am from 'Stonian' tribe. I am fine with whichever name you chose to use.\" He couldn't sense the stares of people, but if they were animals that would've been a different story. Animals have a certain aura to them that would send shivers up your spine and immediately lock eyes with them. But people. People just looked, they weren't intimidating. \n\n His eyes looked around the pub, he wasn't exactly the Pub type of guy. And judging from the outside of the pub he didn't think he would be one ever. That was until she opened that door, his eyes widened and all that warmth hit his face. Still not compared to the warm weathers of the Southern Isles but it was something. He ushered his feet and boots to move as he walked into the warm pub looking around. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff** \n*The Thick Yeti, Grand Stead, Witherlands* \n\nOnce Lucian had made his way inside, she shut the door behind them, letting the heat remain trapped. She then sighed, feeling the heat pooled into her muscles. The cold was chased away as she guided Lucian towards the bar. As if by magic (or probably instinct), a gigantic man appeared in front of them, a huge smile drawn on his face. 'Aria! Good to see you. Theis sent you on another job huh?' She laughed and nodded. \"Good ta see ya, Borris. My usual booth still here?\" He gestured to an empty booth right by the fire, the seats lined with fresh furs. \"Oh, I guess ya brought out the royalty stuff, eh?\" He laughed again and shooed her away. \n\nSmiling, the hunter dragged her friend to the booth. \"Sit, sit! Borris will bring us some drinks and food.\" She flopped into one of the empty sides, removing her heavy coat and stretching her muscles out. Gwynt poked his head out, searched, and then hopped onto a small wooden perch nailed into the wall. She pointed at it and said \"Borris made that after Gwynt and I started bein' regulars. Claimed it was easier ta have an open sight than hide 'im like a bomb.\" The avian shook itself out and settled down, comfortable in the new heated space. \n\n\"So, Lucian, ya said Stonian? I ain't familiar with 'em, unfortunately.\" She leaned against the tabletop, head in her palms. Brown eyes stared at the other, curious and scanning, almost like she would be able to understand everything in just a few moments. \"And how in the bloody gods did ya end up in the Witherlands of all places? Seems like ya would have stuck ta the southern parts of Marin.\" Awaiting his answer, a sudden appearance of a barmaid stopped them and she placed down two mugs of ale and two glasses of water, as well as some steaming bowls of stew. The aroma hit their noses and she grinned. \"Thanks, Haria.\" The hunter gave her some coins and then Aria gestured to the food. \"Dig in!\""
}
] | 324 | 1,824 |
337.333333 | 2020-04-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "nonaette",
"message": "Luca Dinero \n*The Thick Yeti, Grand Stead, Witherlands*\nHe sat in the booth looking around the Pub, it was so warm in here, he even brought down his hood. And once he did his hair puffed up and out. \"Nobody except us knows we exist. The only reason I am out is because I am a witch.\" He said it so calm to, but he wasn't *Really* A witch just accused of being one. He kept that same stoic look on his face even when his hair puffed up and out. \n\n\"As for how I got here. I have taken a translation job. The person needed someone to translate Silver tongue. I know silver tongue so I took it. I did not anticipate the land to be cursed.\" He explained while the bowls were given and the ale was served. He looked down at the bowl and picked up the spoon bowing his head and then eating."
},
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff** \n*The Thick Yeti, Grand Stead, Witherlands* \n\nAria nearly spat out her soup at his statement, coughing to try and clear out her throat. Of all the phrases, *That* Certainly was not what she expected! After a few more minutes of what seemed to be her trying to throw up a lung, she swallowed heavily and stared at Lucian with wide eyes. \"Wait, did ya just say...\" Her eyes checked out their area before she whispered,\"*A witch?*\" Gwynt was also staring at their companion, wide pupils and a look that seemed shocked. If possible, the bird would have most likely dropped his jaw (that is, if he had one). \n\nAmazed, the hunter almost let out another snort before she decided it was not the best idea. \"Well, that is certainly a change. Course, I don't believe in that nonsense. Magic ain't real; it's all in the fables and stories.\" Aria began to dig back into her food, letting the previous energy die down a tad. \"But that, what was it? Ah, Silver tongue. That I really haven't heard of.\" With slight curiosity, her body leaned even closer to her companion. \"What is that, exactly? Sounds mighty exciting.\" As for the last sentence, she really did snort here and stated \"Yeah, that be the Witherlands. Ain't cursed, least I don't think it be, but it is a snowy, icy land. Honestly, probably just unlucky lot who decided,\" And here she started to adopt a very dramatic accent,\"This shall be our land! We shall be the rulers of this majestic place! Bring greatness to our names!\" The girl then fell into giggles and shook her head. \"Yeah, very great. Eternal cold and wet socks ta the people.\""
},
{
"author": "nonaette",
"message": "**Luca Dinero** \n*The Thick Yeti, Grand Stead, Witherlands* \n\nLuca was mid sip of his soup when Aria spit out her soup. He swallowed, eyes wide and looked to the soup and literally said, \"That's unfortunate...\", he sounded almost disappointed in a way. *'Poor soup.' he thought listening to Aria. \"Well yes, a witch. My brother and I were thrown out to sea and survived. Then we rowed from our island to the main island.\" He said it was if it wasn't a big. No biggie, not like we were on a boat for almost four weeks exposed to the sun most of the day. \"My brother is a witch as well.\" He took another spoonful of soup and scooped it into his mouth. \n\n*'Magic is not real?'* He thought to himself internally. If that were the case, why is this land cursed, and why are his eyes the color of the ocean? Why is his hair rippling like the sea and the color of a new deer? Those were the questions someone from Luca's tribe would've asked if told that statement. He looked up from his soup back at Aria. \"Silver tongue is a language. People in the Southern Isles speak it mostly. I do not believe it is widely known throughout the land though.\" He grabbed a glass of water and took a sip of it, he had never drank ale before, though his brother has before. It looked like he was under a spell that Luca did not want an parts of. His expression changed from the calm and stoic, to almost a confused fox. His head tilted and eyebrows furrowed, \"So this land is not cursed?\" He looked out the window into the wintry torture, \"Who would willingly live in such conditions? I do believe this is a punishment of a form, yes?\" He looked to Aria again still needed answers. This place was all too strange for his liking. It had to be some form of cursed or a witch's spell on it. Had to be nobody would live here *Willingly*."
}
] | 384 | 1,012 |
276 | 2020-05-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Treasury Councilor Klaus Paberly\nRiverbreak Hold**\n\n\"Entirely uneventful, Lady Batten.\" Klaus gave a bright smile to his host. \"Only snow, snow, and more snow as always,\" He said, taking a few steps forward. \n\n\"I'd like to thank you for meeting with me today in your lovely home,\" Klaus said, glancing around at what he could see behind her from outside the entryway. He couldn't see everyone, but there were a few servants standing at attention. Seeing people put their best foot forward to impress him had always been a part of the job that made him feel warm inside, even while living on this forsaken frozen tundra.\n\n\"These are for you. I wanted to bring a gift of thanks befitting for the Lady of Riverbreak Hold,\" He said as he extended the bouquet of flowers. \"Might I also add that your fur cloak is *Breathtaking.*\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "```LADY CORNELIA BATTEN\nRIVERBREAK HOLD```\n\nA genuine smile came across the beautiful face of the Lady of Riverbreak, the wintry breeze that wafted through the courtyard making the silky fur she wore caress the feminine line of her throat and jaw.\n\n_\"Oh, Councillor, you shouldn't have,\"_ she said smoothly as she accepted the flowers, tone implying that — no, he absolutely should have. The flowers themselves were a treasure; not an easy feat, considering the frigid weather that didn't do for most colorful varietals. \n\n_\"Oh, this?\"_ she asked, playful surprise making her dimples flash in her cheeks and laughter dance in her merry hazel eyes. _\"Just a little something I threw on to greet you,\"_ the lady said with untrue modesty.\n\n_\"You must be hungry. I'll feed you and warm you and then you can go off to discover all assortment of fishes,\"_ she insisted, turning half away from the handsome young lordling to snap her fingers for **Oliver.** The man servant appeared at her elbow, his face stone Cold and stoic as he regarded **Klaus.**\n\n_\"Make the arrangements for Councillor Paberly's carriage. See his men and horses are fed and aptly supplied,\"_ Cornelia spoke as her slender gloved hand slipped into the crook of Klaus' elbow, her other arm still cradling her flowers as she began a graceful walk to the wide open doors of the Hold.\n\n_\"So, my Lord, you have a passion for fishing?\"_ Cornelia wouldn't have guessed it."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Treasury Councilor Klaus Paberly\nRiverbreak Hold**\n\nKlaus tensed at the first mention of fish. He had scheduled a meeting with the sole intention of covering up the fact that he wanted to fish on her land. If only he had just asked instead of coming up with this convoluted plan. Still, he had only just seen the hooks in the store the other day. How had she known... He turned his head back to his transport and saw Seb, the carriage driver, holding a bunch of fishing rods that he'd just unpacked. *Imbecile!* He screamed internally. They weren't even inside yet, and Seb had already revealed everything.\n\n\"Thank you,\" Klaus said regarding her servant directions to take care of the carriage and his driver, despite it being more than what Seb deserved for this failure. \"You're too kind.\"\n\nWith Lady Batten on his arm, he strolled toward the keep. \"And it's a rather new passion. I'd never given a second thought about fishing until I was in a shop several days ago. I saw a case of shiny, jewel-encrusted hooks, and I *Had* To buy them. I bought the rest of the gear after that. Have you taken up any passions of your own since I last saw you? It's so rare that there's an occasion for us to meet and catch up. It's a travesty, really.\""
}
] | 295 | 828 |
289.666667 | 2020-05-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "```LADY CORNELIA BATTEN\nRIVERBREAK HOLD```\n\nThey mounted the wide and shallow steps into Riverbreak hold, the cacophony of servants helping to unload the carriage behind them as they passed a row of neatly bowing heads from the _in-door_ servants.\n\nThe difference in temperature from outside to inside was noticable as the large doors shut behind them, sconces illuminating the walls lined with wood and tapestries hung across the stone to help keep the warmth inside.\n\n\"Why, yes, actually, I've taken an interest in hot housing,\" Cornelia spoke, pausing to shed her silver fur to reveal the stunning gown beneath. A servant also stepped forward to divest **Klaus** Of his own, while yet another took the flowers from Cornelia to put them in a vase somewhere.\n\n\"But I'm sure that passion is less than interesting. Plant husbandry and all that,\" Cornelia waved a hand, a large jewel glittering off one finger as that same hand lifted to wipe snow off the dark, dark strands of her glossy hair. Her playful hazel eyes aided in the warmth of her smile as she looked at the young man.\n\n\"How fairs the Iron Plains? Any gossip I might cut my teeth on, Councillor?\" Her smile turned sly and humorous as she led him to a room off to the side; a smaller, more casual dining space than the great hall with food and yet _more_ servants standing at the ready. This room's temperature was clearly quite comfortable, as not even frost could stick to the windows outside."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Treasury Councilor Klaus Paberly\nRiverbreak Hold**\n\n\"Tragedy has struck the Barrmount house, I'm afraid. The sisters lost Rodrick to this new sickness. I believe the funeral is happening today. If the cause of death had been anything other than plague, more members of the council might have attended. Because that was not the case, we thought it best to keep our distance. Hopefully the service runs peacefully,\" Klaus responded wistfully after entering the dining room.\n\n\"I've also heard rumblings for a council of Marin in the South. I don't have any plans to attend, and I don't think anyone else on the Plains plans to attend either. Things have been relatively stable around here other than the plague. Better to just wait it out, I think. Though if the council learns something that would be helpful, that's great too. Does that fill your appetite for gossip?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "```LADY CORNELIA BATTEN\nRIVERBREAK HOLD```\n\n\"Oh, how awful. I hadn't heard,\" Cornelia said after a dramatic gasp at the news that **Plague** Had struck the Barrmounts, a hand fluttering up to her chest as she appeared sympathetic and concerned. \"I must write them as soon as possible, dear things.\"\n\nSeated at the table, servants stepped forward to pour wine and serve their plates to them of the gathered meal; deliciously seasoned pork, hearty grilled vegetables, delectably soft and hot bread, creamy butter, and a rice dish to fill the belly and keep it warm. \n\nIn the centre of the table was a wide, flat gilded bowl, piled artfully with citrus fruits — a delicacy that was either grown in a local hothouse at great expense, or transported from softer, hotter climes.\n\n\"Mm, it does. I had heard of the Council of Marin, and was thinking of traveling myself,\" Cornelia stated, sipping wine and plucking at pork. \"Riverbreak has taken to closing the walls at sundown and burning incense in the streets. They say it helps, but the bodies keep piling from the sickhouses down by the mudstacks,\" The brunette stated.\n\n\"If someone has an answer to this sickness, I'd prefer to know it.\" She lifted her goblet to salute **Klaus**, then took a sip. Languidly, she relaxed in her carved chair and those green-gold eyes ran over the young man. She was thinking of something... But it was hard to tell what it was.\n\n\"Do you plan to stay long? You are, of course, welcome in my home for as long as you like.\""
}
] | 324 | 869 |
315.666667 | 2020-05-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "ariamelody6835",
"message": "**Aria Griff**\n*The Thick Yeti, Grand Stead, Witherlands*\n\nShe quirked her head, confusion clearly wrote on her face. \"Wait, wait, ya and ya brother were *Thrown out ta sea?*\" There was a sudden chill that overtook the girl's face as the words sank in, a mixture of rage and sympathy battled in her brown eyes. After a deep inhale and exhale, Aria shook her head and the emotions died down. \"Sorry, that is... Well, that certainly ain't normal.\" Gwynt screeched in agreement, causing his mistress to turn towards the avian. As she pat at his feathers she explained. \"Ya see, where I'm from, we don't exactly do things like that. 'specially cause of some, pardon me tongue, *Bullshit fucking* Reasons like those.\" \n\nAria sipped at her drink and then the soup again, mindful to actually swallow this time. \"Me folks made sure ta accept anyone. Well, within reason, anyway.\" The hunter threw a grin at her companion and listened to more of his explanations. \"Ah, that's why. I'm from the South Feyshore, so Southern Isles be a bit outta me reach.\" She shrugged and added \"No, land ain't cursed. Would make a hell of a lot more sense, but it ain't. Just shitty.\" Chuckling, her hands folded against the table top as she leaned closer. \"People are desperate creatures, Luca. When one wants power, they will do just 'bout anything, and I mean *Anything* Ta get it.\" Her face hardened with a grim look, almost like a faint memory was passing her mind. \"Even if it caused others ta suffer, they can't stop the greed from rearin' its ugly, ugly head. So others must be put through torture ta get ta the power.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "```LADY CORNELIA BATTEN\nRIVERBREAK HOLD```\n\n\"My physician seems to think he knows manners in which to keep us safe, and he's been speaking with my captain about it,\" Cornelia responded between sips of wine and morsels of food.\n\nHer hazel eyes looked across the table, her beautiful face set in an expression of mild amusement at the Councillor's presence. He was a handsome fellow, she thought, as her head tipped slightly to the side, and given to frivolity. Bejeweled fish hooks? Who would ever.\n\n\"Of course. I go to be sure the Iron Plaines are aplty represented. After all, we are the backbone of the Witherlands, are we not? I'd hate for some untoward suggestion be put forward and passed without a word edgewise.\"\n\nThe elegant, dark-haired vixen picked up a napkin and wiped her fingers off, then dabbed at the corners of her lips to make sure the rouge hadn't smeared and still perfectly framed the lush tiers on her face. All the while, she kept notice of **Klaus** Was he besot with her beauty, or merely charmed by it? How far could Cornelia manipulate him?\n\n\"I suppose talk of marriage proposals has come to an end for now with the Barrmounts, given their recent tragedy. Have you heard of any other marriage treaties coming in to play?\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Treasury Councilor Klaus Paberly\nRiverbreak Hold**\n\n\"Well, if you do decide to for sure make the trip, thank you for your service,\" Klaus said, nodding and taking a drink.\n\n\"As for marriage...\" He squinted his eyes and looked off to the side for a moment in thought. \"I can't say I know of any from anyone notable. War Councilor Maric is a quiet and stoic man. It's hard to get a word out of him. He could die, and the worms in Araedia would have caught word of it long before we ever would. I can't imagine him falling head over heels for a girl anytime soon. If one tried to make her intentions known, he might take it as a threat. With Councilor Wilhelma, it always seems to be something about plants. I have a hard time paying attention beyond that. It's not exactly Plaines news, but there have been rumblings that Nathaniel Vivayn might be looking for an engagement. Don't quote me on that though. Seventh-hand whispers of whispers. Still, if true, I'd be amused to see which icy wench he'd sink his claws into.\" Klaus leaned back in his chair, starting to feel on the full side."
}
] | 295 | 947 |
519.75 | 2020-05-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thelastbotleft",
"message": "Cerei Davren\nBorder of Taemar\n\n\nCerei muttered something softly in her sleep, but immediately rolled over and went quiet again. Lucius pulled her cover farther up so it was covering her, and brushed her hair out of her eyes, and looked up at Scarlett. \n\n\"You see, this is my first and only child. Everything I have and ever will do is and will be for her. My legacy will live on through her. I was never there for her before. I could never make that up to her, but I can try to be there for her, and show her that there is more to life than having to provide for everyone.\" Lucius said, the pain from a life watching from the outside more apparent with every word. \"And if her life must involve you, I can live with that as well. I may not approve of your past, but I can at least provide the both of you with a life of luxury if you are comfortable with that thought.\" He said, crossing his legs. \n\n\"And I will wait to tell her, so I can explain it fully with preparation for questions. But she's probably going to hate me afterwards, so it'll be up to you to take care of her until she's ready to talk to me again.\" He said, his eyebrow twitching softly."
},
{
"author": "kaylamityjane",
"message": "Scarlett Prynne\nBorder of Taemar\n\nShe gazed at Cerei and her... Father... That was going to take some getting used to, truthfully. In all honesty, she was impressed that he had managed to hide his noble upbringing thus far and play the part of a servant so well. Few nobles she knew could swallow their pride and put aside their pampered lifestyle for so long, though the fact that he could do so for Cerei's sake gave her newfound respect for the man. It would be good for Cerei to have a family... Nobody should have to go through life alone. Scarlett knew all too well what that was like. \n\nHer thoughts had wandered some as he spoke, but his \"If her life must involve you,\" Snapped her back to reality. She grimaced and looked away, looking as if she had been struck. It still stung a little. \n\nThere was a long pause before she finally said quietly, \"I think that's wise, to wait, certainly. And I'll... Well, I'll always take care of her, for as long as she needs me and wants me around. She needs someone in this world.\" She smiled sadly, adding, \"And if anyone knows the harsh realities of life, it's me. I can show her how to take care of herself.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Treasury Councilor Klaus Paberly\nPaberly Keep (different day than the scene with Cornelia Batten)**\n\nKlaus was sitting in a chair in the parlor near his home's main entrance. Before him sat several stacks of coin arranged on a coffee table. He was relaxing after some work with one of his family's servants picking at his hands with small tools. Approaching footsteps made Klaus open his eyes to see his older brother, Victor, darkening the parlor doorway. \"Feeling cold, Vicky?\" Klaus asked, remarking on his brother's layered attire.\n\n\"I'm leaving to visit some elders in Evenrud village. They have concerns about the actions we plan to take in response to the plague,\" Victor responded, ignoring the joke.\n\n\"Well, before you go, could you toss me my slippers? My feet are cold,\" Klaus requested as he took a glance at the servant's progress.\n\n\"How about I get your boots? You should come with me.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Klaus made little effort to disguise his disgust at the idea.\n\n\"They are our people, Klaus. They need to know we are there for them in a crisis.\"\n\n\"I think you're forgetting that you are the future Lord of the Grove, 1st brother. I am just the humble treasury councilor of the Iron Plaines.\" With his free hand, Klaus made a grandiose gesture toward himself.\n\n\"You've got nothing better to do. You're just sitting here getting your nails prettied like a damn woman.\"\n\n\"I suffer no hangnails, Vic! Besides, I've had money to count.\" Klaus raised one of his feet and kicked over a stack of coins on the table in front of him. \"Oh dear. I'll have to count it again. I'm afraid I must decline your tempting invitation.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I should ask father if he thinks you should join me.\" Victor threatened.\n\n\"DaddyyyYYYYYY!\" Klaus yelled.\n\n\"*Leave him alone, Victor!*\" Their father shouted back from the floor above. Klaus grinned smugly.\n\n\"When I run this damn castle, I'll charge you rent,\" Victor vowed, losing his temper.\n\n\"You wouldn't dare!\" Klaus protested, but his brother had walked away. \"Victor!\"\n\n\"Finished.\" The servant said, having worked through the argument, one of many that hardly fazed her at this point. She left the room for a moment before bringing back Klaus's slippers and a piece of mail.\n\n\"Thank you, Gunnhild. I don't know what I'd do without you.\" Klaus opened the letter he was handed and read it. He had been invited for tea at the manor of Lady Catherine Royte. Klaus didn't know her, despite the woman not living all that far away, but she seemed interested in getting to know him.\n\n. . .\n\nKlaus departed for the Royte house a few days later. The area that the lady resided in was a desolate one. It was a good thing that they had clear directions because they had not seen anyone for miles that they could have asked. The manor, when the carriage finally reached it, was lifeless. As they pulled up in front of it, Klaus got out of the carriage and looked around. He wondered if anyone was even there. The treasury councilor braved the eerie vibe given off by this lone house on the frozen tundra and went to knock on the door, hoping he hadn't come all this way for nothing."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Lady Anna Barrmount\nBarrmount Castle, Iron Plaines\n\nThe cold still stung her soft cheek, right across where his hand caressed her skin to put away the stray strand of hair. Anna couldn't bring herself to call those things hands, they were like the talons of a hawk; and the way he looked down to them made her feel like a rabbit wanting to scape the hunt. \n\nNathaniel was getting so close to Sibyl, too close. The dismay and horror took over her as the young Barrmount looked at her sister and saw the Lord's hand gripping her. A man that could be the embodiment of death was in her late brother's wake, touching her sister with such familiarity. \n\nAnna was so close to start hyperventilating, watching as Nathaniel got further and further.\n\nSibyl's voice ringed in her head as her vision started to get cloudy. She kept her head from turning to her side as she paid close attention to the hushed instructions, her breath as shaky as the rest of her body. \nShe nodded along.\n\n*I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it! No!* Her mind raced faster than she could process it. Then it dawned on her: fleed. Sibyl wanted her to fleed, the Council was the perfect excuse. But what about Sibyl? Anna wasn't able to get herself to abandon Sibyl like that.\n\n\"I-I... I will. I will part inmediatly\" She whispered back. \n\nShe didn't like the idea one bit, but if she still had one thing clear it was her blind faith in her sister.\n\n\"Just promise me you'll stay safe. I love you\" She cleared her throath and did a curtsy at her sister \"Lady Sibyl\" She spoke for everyone to hear \"I must absent myself from the event, I'm feeling indisposed...\"\n\nAnna turned around, ready to exit the great hall. Her feet could barely drag her across the floor, and not letting the tears flow was requiring an herculean strength from her.\n\n\"Pippin dear, accompany me if you please\" \n\nShe walked as fast as she was able to, entering the corridor. Halfway through, the young Lady had to stop and put her hand on the wall to not fall to the floor. Her head was spinning. \n\n\"Pippin, I-I need a favor. Go to the chambers and take our travel garments, then to the kitchen and tell the Head Cook to pack essential food for a trip. I'll meet you at the dungeons\" She pleaded as she tried to keep her breath. \n\nGuards, she also needed a guard. But they were all busy, even more now that there was a whole Vivayn army walking among them. \n\n\"Lady Anna!\" \n\nShe looked up, the familiar voice feeling like rain after a drought. \n\n\"Yulius!\" \n\n\"My Lady why aren't you at the Great H-\" \n\nAnna grabbed his hands as she interrupted him. \n\n\"I need you to go in there and go straight for the head of the guardsmen, he must send one of his men to the dungeon\"\n\n\"O-okay... Is everything al-\" \n\n\"No time to explain, you'll see it soon. Please be discreet\" \n\n\"Will do\" \n\nJust as he took his first steps towards the door she stopped him again. \n\n\"Please protect my sister\" \n\n\"With my life\"\n\n... \n\nAfter being approached by Yulius with the strange request of Lady Anna, the head of the guardsmen got an idea of what was happening. He nodded and instructed Yulius to go, before discreetly calling for one of his men that stood near. \n\n\"Woodford, get your gear ready and head to the dungeon. Raise no suspicion\" \n\n... \n\nAnna awaited in the dungeon, pacing from one wall to another. Behind the exit at her back, were three horses ready, including her personal horse."
}
] | 493.5 | 2,079 |
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