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Hang on, had he misremembered something? The king had sent for them, hadn't he? He was certain that's what the captain said, and this lady had said much the same to the guards at the gate. Hadn't she? If it had been the scenario that they had managed to hear about the king's son through some sketchy back channels and arrived to offer aid our of the blue, then suspicion would be perfectly reasonable. As it stood, you hardly asked someone to help you then later demanded that they prove themselves to you first. The outright hostility that they had so far encountered was so strongly at odds with the plain facts of the situation that it left Sarathai with a sense of unease. Maybe he would have been better off hanging with the necromancer? Okay, definitely not. But still...

It didn't help that, from the sounds of things, his companion was apparently some sort of high profile murderer. Not entirely what he would have expected from that whole thing about her being the best healer, but everyone had to have hobbies right? Some people collected toenail clippings, others stabbed people in their spare time. So long as she kept to the job at hand, he couldn't care less what she did in her free time. Frustratingly, it did give at least a little credence to the suspicion the pair of them were met with.

Soon enough it was Tarasynora's turn to talk. While she made her speech about oaths and noble influence, it occurred to Sarathai just how out of his depth he was in this conversation. He never exactly had circumstance to find himself enmeshed deeply into the political affairs of anything grander than planning a festival at his local village. Hopefully her speech was a good one and would mollify the king and his council, but Sarathai was still worried. He didn't really have a strong sense of the political state of things, but he still felt like he had to do his best to contribute in his own way. "My apologies if I'm speaking out of turn, but when you ask about trust I assume it is with the subtext that we might be assassins or otherwise sent to cause some form of mischief? Frankly, that scenario makes little sense to me. Or, if so, then we are incredibly incompetent at what we do having already identified who we are and the order we fight for. Additionally, I am certain that, in your wisdom, you have probably already sent to your dock-master for the ship's manifest that we arrived on to double check that everything is in order there."

It seemed reasonable enough in his mind. Even if they hadn't thought to double check records, they probably would be doing so now and make a pretense that they had done so from the beginning- nobility were like that. Hopefully it would be enough to get at least a slight benefit of doubt on their side, since he planned to forge into uncharted territory. Knowing very little about the Order he could only hope that he wasn't, in actuality, somehow caught up in some big assassination scheme. If so, he would likely feel like the biggest fool all the way to the gallows. "I would also assume you know even more about the Order here than us newly arrived recruits. You are appropriately cautious, so I'll assume you've kept meticulous records on the comings and goings of supply ships for the order and thus have a better understanding of their setup here than we ever could. I'm an apprentice healer with no mind for military strategy, so you would know better than either of us whether the Order seems to be arraying their camp as though readying for some sort of preemptive strike against your city or if they seem to expect eventual amicable relations."

"But for what it's worth." He added, deciding it might be best to try and emulate Tarasynora's manner in his own clumsy fashion. "I can swear that I would forsake the Order long before I every assented to carry out something as underhanded as a political assassination. I can't speak on the Order's behalf, but I can speak to my own designs. To that, I would pledge my skills in whatever way would help your people most." And you know damn well you wouldn't have asked for us in the first place if you hadn't already exhausted your other options, ya bunch of dirty old men. he thought, exercising extreme prudence in not voicing that last bit out loud.


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A strong gust of wind carrying tiny flakes of snow blew into the tent as Einarr stepped inside, the ground beneath him a bit more solid and less muddy than the surrounding terrain, most likely due to the presence of the medical tent itself, which helped keep snow form hitting the ground and melting thus preventing the ground from becoming even more boggy than it already was.

Looking about the tents somewhat spacious interior, Einarr saw several long wooden tables, some were covered in surgical instruments and herbs of all kinds, while others acted as makeshift cots for several sick and wounded Order soldier's and scouts. Near the back right corner of the tent Einarr saw the scouts from earlier, most of which were wrapped in bandages and covered in blood, hanging about that area. Well, hanging about wasn't the most accurate term. Rather it was more like they were writhing about in pain while doing the best they could to keep pressure on the measly strips of cloth that helped prevent excessive amounts of blood loss.

Shaking his head slightly at the sight, Einarr steeled himself for confrontation as he approached them. He knew what pain could do to a man's sense of reasoning and judgement. When you combined that with an already strong and deep seeded hatred of something, you had a violent outburst waiting to happen.

The rude scout from earlier stood up as Einarr drew closer, glaring daggers at him. Einarr was certain that if looks could kill, he would be lying on the ground right now in a pool of his own blood.

Fortunately, looks were harmless.

But steel wasn't, and the old ranger knew that this man still had a weapon on his body somewhere as well as the will to use it. Keeping this in mind, Einarr calmly continued his approach, only stopping once he was close enough to be heard by the man without having to shout or yell.

"What do ya' want lapdog?" The man spat, barely containing his rage. "Isn' it bad enough that ye' and yer precious Order are 'ere in our land?"

Einarr's eyes narrowed at the man's words as a not quite friendly smile that didn't reach his eyes spread across his face. "First of all, I'm no one's lapdog. And second, this is just as much my homeland as it is yours." Einarr replied, doing his best to quell the anger that briefly flared up within him at the mans words.

"Aye, sure it is." The man scoffed. "Last I checked exiles weren't allowed 'ere."

Einarr grit his teeth in annoyance as he did his best to resist the urge to sock the cocky bastard right in his jaw. Letting out a barely audible sigh of frustration, the old ranger decided to skip the pleasantries and get right down to business. "Look..." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I came here to get information on the forest and the surrounding area, alright? So quit the hard ass bullshit and tell me what I want to know."

"An' why would I do that exile?" The man taunted, taking a few steps closer to Einarr.

"Because the sooner you tell me what I want to know, the sooner I leave this camp." Einarr growled, quickly growing more and more annoyed with the man's arrogant and sarcastic attitude.

The man stood there for a few minutes, his eyes locked with Einarr's, almost as if he were sizing him up. After what seemed like an eternity the man finally spoke.

"Eh, alright." He said, hurling a ball of spit towards the ground between them with his mouth. "If it gets yer ass out of this camp I'll tell ya what we found. It was about five miles into those woods that we found those corpses. Now I'm not a superstitious man, but that's not something ya see out 'ere everyday. Other than that there wasn't much out of the ordinary besides that damn pack o Wargs." The man said as he absentmindedly scratched his chin.

"I see. Anything else?"

"Well, the terrains a bit difficult in some places and there's always the possibility of hidden pits buried underneath the snow, but other than that the only thing I suggest ya look out for are the Wargs."

Einarr stared at the man for a few moment's before nodding. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the info."

"Eh, whatever exile, just go take care of the problem already will ya? Last thing I want to do is share a camp with a bunch of criminal scum." The man said as he pushed past Einarr and exited the tent. Einarr let out a relieved grunt now that he didn't have deal with that little shit anymore. Turning round, Einarr walked towards the tent entrance, but not before taking one last look at the dismal place and stepping outside into the cold morning air.
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Falistia 34th, 0600


The Mercenary Lord woke violently, starting at the early morning light creeping through the flaps of his flimsy canvas tent. It took him a moment to realise that he’d drawn his knife.

Bad dreams, he admonished himself, you’ve had one little nightmare and look, it’s reduced you to acting like a child, startled by shadows. He forced a dry chuckle through clenched teeth and sheathed his knife, though his hand moved more reluctantly than he would have liked.

The sun was still weak in the sky when he exited his tent, the shadows weighing heavy upon his party’s small camp. The desire to relight the campfire was strong in him, something, anything, to drive off the dark. Only his anger stayed his hand. He was Stravi Kuznetzov, Captain of the Blackshield Brothers dammit. He wasn’t going to let one bad night’s rest unman him.

But what if those were no mere dreams? The question came unbidden and unwelcome to his mind, along with it mostly-forgotten stories of wood spirits and Will-O-Wisps. What if the source of his dreams had been a visitation from some denizen of the dark? His neck prickled at the thought, his hackles rising. Wars he could fight. Monsters and demons? Those were new to him. That skulking desire to light the fire returned, but this time he banished it with an annoyed grunt. If there was something in those woods, he was damned if he was going to hide from it. No, he was going to find it. Fucking kill it too, if he had to.

He searched the trees for the next hour, purposely striding through the rough as if he had not a fear in the world, daring any and all to challenge him. Demons? Let them come. Despite his searching though he found no sign of an intruder. More the pity, because by the time he was finished looking he was sore, tired, and irritable, and could have done with nothing better than an unwilling target to swing his sword at.

By the time he made it back to the camp Georgia was already up and kneeling by the fire. He hadn’t had much occasion to speak to the young woman yet, and wasn’t quite in the mood now, but he forced himself to approach the fire and sit by her. Any commander worth his salt knew that they had to foster good relationships with the men and woman serving under them, and one of the simplest ways to do that was to talk to them.

He held his hands to the flames for a moment, enjoy the feeling as the warmth slowly seeped into his aching limbs. Age doesn’t come alone. The day has barely begun and you ache already.

“Morning to you, goody Chandler. Tell me, how did you sleep? I had some trouble myself. Can’t quite shake the feeling that we share this mountain with some unknown presence.” He fixed his eyes upon Georgia, watching for any flicker. He had considered keeping his misgiving to himself, but had quickly discarded that feeling as folly. Better to share his fears, and risk looking like a fool if they were naught but shadows and mist, than keep them to himself and risk ruin if there was some substance to his nightmares.
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"Be careful, Kuri." Aelsu commented quietly as the thief ran off. Wasn't any business of hers. She could respect the desire to survive - it's all she had ever learned to do in the pits. Aelsu chose to for now, stick close to Einarr. She didn't know the man very well, but from the looks of things he knew what he was doing more than she would. The Orisiri followed the human to the medical tent, but elected to stay outside for now and watch the other merchants.

Eavesdropping? Perhaps it was rude but she didn't feel the need to interject in a place that would likely only result in racist remarks from the people, so she contented herself to standing idly outside in case she was needed. From the most part, it sounded like he was uncooperative. Understandable, given who they were and what the people here thought of them. She'd probably do something similar in his shoes, but at least it seemed Einarr got something useful out of him.

"...friendly." Aelsu grunted, folding her arms against her chest as the human walked out of the tent. "But understandable. No one wants criminals in their lands. Do we head to the forest?" She saw no reason to sit around. Maybe they could buy a handful of supplies, but the supposed location wasn't too far.
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Lunearo nodded to Aelsu's inquiry. "That would be the logical thing. I suggest however sending a few Ravens there first to scout the area while we travel. That way should they see anything that could delay or be fatal to us other than the wargs can be avoided or at least give us time to devise a strategy." He turned to Einarr with a slight bow. "Of course, since this is your quest, it is entirely your choice. Oh, and speaking of strategy..." he whistled and a Raven sat on the post at the tent's entrance.
Lunearo chuckled evilly, as if laughing at a bad joke. "Before you ask, I planned this in advance. I wonder what sound he will make? An ugh or a angry yell? Wish to bet gladiator?"
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Einarr nodded at Aelsu's words as he stepped out of the tent, briefly shielding his eyes from the harsh winter sunlight with his hand. "Indeed we do. We've gotten all we need from here. From the scouts admittedly sparse description and the merchants depiction of the situation, I believe that all we are up against are some Wargs out hunting for food or possibly bandits of some kind. It doesn't seem to be much worse than that." Einarr explained before turning towards Lunearo.

"As for your suggestion Lunearo, it is a wise one. The ability to see what lies ahead will be of great use during our mission. Do as you wish." The old ranger paused for a moment as he turned his gaze towards the belligerent scout. "As for our friend over there...ten gold pieces says he throws a fit like one of those pompous nobles the king of Haev always surrounds himself with."
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The chaos of the camp had died down long ago, the merchants done with their counts and their guards resting at their posts. The tension, however, was palpable. None could forget the sight of the injured men being dragged into the camp and none could shake the feeling of dread. The tent behind the three parted once more, a shaky hand landing on Einarr’s shoulder as a dreadful looking man shambled out. It had been one of the injured men, his other arm mangled beyond repair and his body now running on sheer adrenaline.

”They didn’t see it,” He said as tears filled his eyes, ”Nobody saw it. The Wargs were just scavengers. It dragged me and Heinar away in the night and we barely escaped. The Wargs smelled our blood and attacked. But IT just watched. It didn’t chase, didn’t try and kill us. It wanted us Alive The man’s body nearly collapsed as a wave of pain shook through him, his mangled arm soaked with blood. ”No scouting’ll help you. I pray you don’t encounter It.” The man managed to shamble back into the tent before a loud crash was heard inside, the result of him passing out.

Even as the medics cursed from inside at the man, the party could hear the soft muttering of prayers from inside. Blessings of the Old Gods to protect them from this omen.




@Adalea

Silence, there was naught but silence from the tent even as the scout had entered it. Before where there had been whispering and muffled voices stood now an uncomfortable silence. Even as the roguish woman drew closer, the voices sounded… unnaturally quiet. Eventually, however, she managed to make out the words from within the tent.

”-es Sir, they brought the Order into the Camp. Them dogs ain’t loyal to us or anybody else. Just their foreign Gods. Jorn has chosen his path.” The voice was clearly that of the scout who had wandered off from before, the second of the two who had arrived uninjured. His muffled voice was stiff as if addressing someone much higher than him in rank. Even his shadow on the tent walls reflected his stance.

”Yer’ tellin’ me that Jorn chose his path but all I hear is that we’ve got an opportunity now. Lord Worim told us to make as much profit as possible off this run, to make sure the other Lords who agreed to this don’t get their share. And what a better chance than to just, take the Caravan.” The foreign voice chuckled at his own words and a shadow of a rotund man rose up in the shadows. ”We just gotta get rid of Jorn. Tell them boys out there that Jorn was gonna sell us to the Order, make a riot against him and hang him like the dog he is. All we’s gotta do is wait. Them Order boys’ll meddle if we try it now.”

The Scout’s shadow shuffled inside the tent, his uneasy stance falling away as he moved closer to the tent’s flap and his voice became gradually less muffled. ”We got the perfect timin’ then. They’re gonna go get whatever is in that Forest. Probably’ll die at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone, eh?”




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The first to speak up at the pair was, of course, Lord Turin with a toothy smile at the two. ”You say we should trust you simply cause we called for some aid? That we should let you operate on an ill child simply because you say you killed your Father for peace,” Turin paused and turned his smile towards Sarathai, ”And you believe that all our manifests, all our attention on those in the camp outside should be enough to denounce an assassination? That you would surely forsake your Order in order to perform your duty? The Old man laughed at the pair even as the eyes of the courts landed on him, his attention turning back to Lord Erith who took this as his turn to speak.

”My lord, would you trust a man who would forsake his ties to this land to cure your son? Or a woman who admits to killing her own Father, even if she believes it for peace? I would hardly trust either to even clean my shoes. To so clearly denounce the Order you serve, to admit so openly to a murder. How foolish are you two truly,” Erith rested his eyes passively on the two, ”I don’t trust you for these things however to so openly admit to such foolish statements before a court of Lords and the King himself, that requires guts. I say we give you a test.”

Lord Turin glared straight ahead at his rival even as Erith’s smile spread throughout the court. The man who had so openly argued with him earlier had finally trounced him in the game of words. ”My King, I propose that we have them deal with the string of illness plaguing our citizens by First Wharf. You see dear travellers, they grew ill over Summer and should their illness last through this Fall then they shall be dead. To bury the dead in the cold earth when we have this chance to heal them would deem us unworthy to lead. Cure all three hundred of them and we’ll believe you worthy. How does that sound, King Gorim?”

The King stood silent even as he walked back to the head of the table, his eyes distant and a conflict seemingly brewing behind. Even as he sat down and looked back towards the pair, the conflict had not yet left. ”Very well. Do us this duty and you may handle my son. Fail and we’ll wait for the others we had asked for help. I fare you well, adventurers.”
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Falistia 34th, 0800


Georgia had turned in her spot on the ground, watching Stravi approach. She noticed some hesitance, but chose not to comment on that. When he settled in to enjoy the warmth, she readjusted her position and shifted her hair so he could see her more plainly.

"Good morning, Sir Stravi," she answered him with a smile, though her expression turned to concern with his mention of troubled sleep. Did he sense something was off as well? Her eyes gazed back to the fire. "I--I slept well. When my dreams began, they were normal. I was in a forest, much like we're in now except the sun was bright and everything was green. Well," she chuckles, "Maybe not much like here. I felt warm, and I just knew there were forest spirits watching me. Protecting me. I was safe."

The girl absentmindedly broke off a piece of bread, her thoughts wandering as she recollected her dreams. "But then the shadows of all the trees grew dark. They watched me, not as guardians but... something else. I don't think they wanted to hurt me, but it was unsettling. Like they wanted to know something I didn't want to share." She looked over to Stravi again, curiosity and concern in her eyes.

"I don't think we're alone, Sir Stravi. It could be spirits. It may be magic. One thing, I think, is certain: our presence is known."

Georgia watched him closely. He may have been unnerved, and that thought scared her.
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Einarr flinched, both out of reflex and a general dislike of human contact, as he felt the man's hand grasp his shoulder. Turning about, the old ranger focused his attention on the haggard and practically almost dead looking man as he began explaining what they actually encountered in the woods a few hours before. When the man finally finished, Einarr watched as he shambled back into the medical tent and shook his head, mainly out of pity, as he heard the man collapse a few seconds later.

Turning back to his companions, Einarr looked both of them in turn. First Lunearo and then Aelsu, the grim, confused, and somewhat concerned expression on his face clearly revealing how he felt about the current state of things.

"Aelsu, Lunearo..." He said, looking back and forth between the two. "Have you ever encountered or heard about the creature he described in your travels?"
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Lunearo held his chin in thought. What the man said disturbed him. If he was right, then that made things all the harder.
"If I'm correct, and gods hope I'm not, it could be a low class of demon. All necromancers come across them eventually, being one of the few ways they can enter our realm. Demons love taking prisoners and are incredibly powerful, but what disturbs me greatly is if it is, wargs wouldn't even be in that forest unless the demon has control over them. Most animals, no matter how viscous, know when and otherworldly presence is around. It scares them off to other territories. But it wouldn't have let those men escape, if it is low in the infernal ranks." He continued to think, but finding no explanation suitable to the description, however vague, he simply came to the only conclusion possible. He whistled and one raven perched on hi new staff. He spoke in an ancient tongue no living race speaks by nature, unless they knew spirits. The raven nodded and spoke in the language back in conformation.
After the bird left, he turned back to the ranger and champion. "I have no accurate conclusion of what we face boy, but be certain that it isn't what you would call natural. The spirits in the ravens know nothing as well, but they said they could keep an eye out at night, when such a creature is more likely to be active and visible. All evil creature s love the night's shade, but it does not love them back. I would know..." He looked into a merchants stall and saw a shield. He seemed lost in thought, remembering the day the night did betray him.

the birds had left the forest as soon as they saw him coming. He knew he was going to punish the wicked, like the demons of hell, tormenting those foolish enough to have fallen for their tricks during their pitiful and pathetic lives. The only thing people were good for were soldiers, traders, and slaves. He learned that long ago. He saw the light of fire up ahead, signaling his prey was close. The Noble was going to suffer at his hands.
He watched the camp for what felt like hours planning his attack with the utmost consideration. Guard rotations, watch patrols, everything was mapped in detail. He saw something quite interesting, the noble's tent had one just like it to the side, but it was one that no one entered but the noble, yet only for a few minutes before exiting. He found it curious.
He moved around the camp to a vantage point in which he could hear and see the shadows of who was in the tent. He was surprised to see there was a child in there, a girl. He didn't know why she was there, but it made him uneasy. He never had to deal with children before. But she was nothing but something else to eliminate. If he let her live, she would come back. Better to kill her now rather than wait.
He was about to go back to his original position when he heard rustling behind him. He turned to see a man with a bow trained on him. He was about to lung when something hard struck his head. The pain shot through him like fire, and then all turned black...
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Trouble makers, that's what they were. Aelsu would have sighed audibly if she wasn't more interested in not causing trouble herself for the moment. Perhaps it was because she didn't understand the value in such pranks, but she had to say the mage was being incredibly childish. She was about to chime in herself when one of the injured men came stumbling out of the tents, using Einarr's shoulder to steady himself as he spoke in a strained voice. He went on to regale them of a tale of terror. Something that didn't quite match what she had overheard earlier.

Of course, the mage went on to speak to much again.

Traveling with him was going to put a strain on her nerves.

"You still speak too much," Aelsu grunted towards Lunearo. Honestly, she was rather amused by the fact Einarr would ask a former slave who had maybe been out of the Pits for just a few weeks if she had ever encountered anything in her 'travels'. She hadn't even seen an actual tree before the Order picked her up, and since then she had just been training and enjoying the small freedoms she had. "Demon, beast, whatever it is I don't know." But she would respond as well as she was able too. She wasn't sure what Lunearo was speaking of so much, but she was clever enough to put together what it wasn't if she could trust the mage's words. "If we can trust the mage's words, it isn't a demon. If it would scare off the wargs, then it isn't one. If it was smart enough to want them alive, then it would have killed the wargs and dragged them away."

Folding her arms, Aelsu turned her head in the direction of the forest.

"It matters little. I fought plenty of things in the Pits. Beasts. Men. As long as my spear can reach it, I can kill it. I've never seen a demon, but I doubt they are more terrifying than some of the beasts I've fought." Grunting, she began walking. "Sitting around talking about it will help no one."
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The Osiri brought him back down to earth. He looked at her in annoyance. He got in front of her and stopped her, getting it clear if she kept moving, then bad things would happen. His eyes glowed menacingly from within the mask of metal. "Well when you spend forty years surrounded by spirits and the dead, then let's see how long your sentences get. I don't normally talk at all since I can barely move my face muscles as it is! I can't even eat like people do anymore." He held his left hand in front of her but with the glove tightly on. He was about to take it off, but inhaled and grunted. He waved his arms as if raving mad.
He stopped and turned to them. He whistled and a raven landed on Einarr's shoulder. "I'm going to raise the dead and hunt down that beast. Come with if you'd like, so you can get a grasp of what you deal with, but if you'd like to go ahead and hunt the beast without me, so be it. If you need help, tell the Raven 'Oros Noxv' and you will receive it." He walked off, merchants keeping a keen eye on him, as if making sure he won't going to torch their stalls.
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Einarr shook his head as he watched both Aelsu and Lunearo walked off in seperate directions, both of them going off on their own to hunt the beast. He sighed. If those two nitwits couldn't get along then none of them would be walking out of that forest alive. At the moment however, there was no way for him to catch both of them in time so the ranger chose to go after the necromancer instead, as he seemed to be acting more rational and cautious than Aelsu was, for the time being at least.

Jogging to catch up with him, Einarr went over the whole situation in his mind. What could have caused men to run from a forest in fear of their lives? Lunearo had suggested demons and Einarr had assumed the same, but there were some obvious problems with that theory such as the presence of Wargs and other animals in the immediate area among other things. Einarr let out a loud sigh as he stared up at the overcast sky above. Wondering about such things wouldn't do him any good. If anything, it'd probably distract him from the mission at hand.

"So you have a plan for catching this elusive demon of ours?" Einarr asked as he came up beside the old necromancer.
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Lunearo sighed. "If it is one yes. As I said, all necromancers, no matter their intents, meet one. I've met several. Some I've even sought the wisdom of. Not all are evil twits hell-bent on pure destruction. Some are more like me." He grabbed his journal and flipped through it quickly. He stopped on one of his own additions to the family tome. "Here. One demon I summoned tricked me, but I had a binding spell in place as well as some husks to keep it distracted. Binding spells work on all forms of spirits, but the strength and complexity of the spell needed changes for each. After that, I probably could have a reasonable conversation with it to either convince it to leave mortals be or send it away forcefully if not." He looked at the ranger. "However, in order to sustain such efforts I'll need large amounts of energy. That's the part you're going to want to be careful of. You ever wonder how I'm still alive from lack of the ability to eat?" He put the book back and got close, whispering. "All necromancer's know how fragile thee bonds of souls and the physical body are. We can toll with them, break them, or make them never have even existed. I have essentially become a soul sucker. I can sustain myself by draining plants and invertebrates, but spells like these are gonna take more juice than that. I'm saying that your going to want to be careful because in that state, I can become vicious, and no matter what you see or hear, do not approach me unless you are absolutely certain I'm in my right mind if you value your life at all." He backed up. He walked away from the edge of the camp towards a graveyard. He turned and shook his cowl off his shoulders. "Come on boy, I'm not nearly as dangerous as whatever we're facing. ESPECIALLY if it's a demon. Or worse! Bwahahah!" He cackled for a bit, his mask causing a metallic rasp to creep in through it all.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Rune_Alchemist
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Rune_Alchemist Absolute Depravity

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Falista, 33rd
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@Mag Lev



"You also get angry over nothing it seems." Aelsu grunted when the Necromancer was done. Well, whatever. Wasn't her problem. If they wanted to do fancy magic that was their purview. As far as she cared, they were making a fuss over nothing. But then, magic and spirits was something she had never interacted with before. Perhaps she should listen more to him? Too late now. He and Einarr had already walked off. Such was fine. Wasn't like she had ever worked on a team seriously before.

Probably better that way anyways.

Maybe she should find Kuri? The girl was well trained after all, she had done the training herself. She would probably be better off by her side instead of potentially getting up to no good, but if it was a demon or something else...Kuri didn't belong in a fight. That much was certain.

Grunted, Aelsu began walking towards the forest. Whatever was waiting there, if she found it she wasn't about to let it get the best of her.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by DELETED jdl3932
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DELETED jdl3932 Sok Il-Seong / (Second Initiation)

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@Dealdric
@Mag Lev


Einarr gave Lunearo a deadpan stare as they approached the graveyard. Not just because of his warning, something the old ranger would make sure he heeded, or his somewhat unhinged nature and personality, that he could deal with, but because of the fact that he was going off to raise an army of the dead, something that he had specifically told Lunearo not to do so they both didn't wake up one morning to find a mob of bloodthirsty townspeople with torches and pitchforks surrounding the camp.

"Lunearo..." Einarr said in a low, annoyed voice. "I thought I told you raising the dead was a bad idea. I understand it would aid us greatly in our hunt of this creature regardless of if it is a demon or not, but like I said before, if word gets out that the Order has a powerful necromancer among it's ranks, then the people of Haev and Weirn in general will go on a witch hunt, rounding up anyone they think is helping you before burning them on a stake, a fate I wish to avoid mind you." The ranger said as he avoided stepping in a pile of horse manure that had been left in their path. "Are you certain there is not another way for us to go about this? Do we truly need an army of undead to hunt down this creature?"
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Dealdric
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Dealdric Essence of Purgatory

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@ZAVAZggg

Lunearo stared at him, his emotions unreadable. "Did I say army? No, that is not my intent. Simply to find their strongest warrior or two, bring them back for a day or two, under the cover of night. Plus, graveyards always have the a mortician of some sort, which I can ask what they know. Morticians may be hide-aways and odd to others, but they know more than anybody else. Local myths? Got them all. Local rumors? Knows the facts and who caused them. Disappearance and mortality rate is easy knowledge for them, since they are required to set an area for the missing and the dead." He kept walking then snickered. He looked at his left hand and laughed. "Plus, what if they think a Lich did it? No way to blame the Order, and then they'll know it's better to stay to the roads and city. That wouldn't be that bad, now would it?" He laughed evilly, knowing full well how to get around torches and pitchforks. Just make a new evil appear that isn't there, and the true evil is let be. Gullible sheep!
Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by An Outsider
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An Outsider A Glorious Failure

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Falistia 34th, 0800


@Lucky

While Georgia spoke, the dwarf leant over and helped himself to a hunk of bread from the rations sack. It was stale, and rock hard, the effort of chewing it hurting his jaw. He splashed a dash of water from his canteen upon the crust, hoping to soften the loaf and make it more palatable. A faint hope. There’s little palatable about this situation. Stranded in a land not your own, a sea between you and your brothers, a pariah amongst your own clan, strange amongst strangers and hunted by a creature beyond your comprehension. He was almost starting to regret killing Stevros.

Almost.

The risk had been calculated, and he still had no reason to believe that the death of his brother-in-law hadn’t delivered the outcome he had hoped for. To be sure he hadn’t expected to be shipped off to Haev when he volunteered his services to the Sacred Flame, but he had made allowances for such unexpected variables. Things back in the Ghenna Mountain ranges should still be progressing according to his plans with or without his presence. He had more pressing issues closer to hand that required his attention.

"I don't think we're alone, Sir Stravi. It could be spirits. It may be magic. One thing, I think, is certain: our presence is known."

Georgia’s eyes where on him, her gaze bright and intense. He was struck suddenly by just how young she was and wondered for a moment why he had requested her presence. At the time he had reasoned that the, while inexperienced and untampered, he imagined she had a wealth of potential, and wanted the chance to observe her in close quarters, perhaps try and mould her into the capable woman that he suspected she could become. After all, if he was to serve alongside these Flame recruits then he would rather they be as effective as possible, rather than scared and untried children. Right at that moment however he was uncomfortably suspicious that there might have been more than a vein of sentimentality in his decision to take Georgia along.

If only Gentle could see you know. How he’d laugh at his dread captain, playing at being the knight-in-shining armour for the frightened maiden. Stravi dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Georgia may or may not be a delicate maiden – the choice of who and what she was, was for her to decide – but he was most certainly not a noble knight. He was a mercenary and a kin slayer, a warrior and a pragmatist, and he had neither the time nor inclination to enact upon such noble ideals. Georgia was a soldier in the Order of the Sacred Flame now and would have to learn to harden herself to the realities of that situation, just as everyone else on their boat to Weirn had. He would protect her as he would a comrade, not as a father would a child. Anything less than that would be irresponsible.

“Then we are of a similar mind. Something watches us and doesn’t want to be seen in return. In my experience that can only mean that it means us some kind of ill.” His eyes flickered along the tree line, but he could see nothing untoward. He grunted, annoyed. He had never been anything more than a capable woodsman, but he suspected that even if had the skill of Whisperwood, the Blackshield’s veteran scout and ranger, he wouldn’t have been able to track whatever it was that was probing at their camp through the night.

“As soon as our companions are up, we will break camp and move on. We need more information before we try to tackle whatever it is out there, and I doubt we’ll find it sitting here.” Spirits and forest sprites weren’t his are of expertise, but his curiosity was piqued now, and he’d like to know just what it was that had visited them through the night.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by DELETED jdl3932
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DELETED jdl3932 Sok Il-Seong / (Second Initiation)

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@Dealdric
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Einarr shook his head and let out a soft grunt. "Alright." He said, rubbing his hands together in the hopes of bringing back some of their previous warmth and staving off frostbite. "I'll trust your judgement on this...for now." Einarr said before going silent and staring off into the distance at the tall snow covered mountain's, who's peaks were obscured by heavy blankets of clouds and icy fog. As they walked along, Einarr briefly wondered what manner of fantastical creatures or beasts might call those vast rocky fortresses home. The legendary dragon's and giants of old perhaps? Or maybe a race of beings no one had ever seen before?

Smiling at his own foolish daydreams, the old ranger let out a barely audible scoff as he refocused his attention on the path ahead. Noticing how close they were getting to the graveyard Einarr picked up his pace, clearly eager to have Lunearo get his dark deed of raising a dead warrior to serve them over with as soon as possible.
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Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Lionhearted
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Lionhearted

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Tara could feel the ground beneath her turning into thin ice, any movement resulting in shattered ground, only for her to be drowned in defeat with her unsuccessful attempt at gaining their trust. On the contrary, she did succeed in hiding her frustration towards the nobles, though their propositions were valid. Tara knows all too well the desire to keep the royalty of one's city safe, thus, her true frustration was aimed towards the false crime that got her here in the first place. But even with her companion's added persuasion, they were still not swayed to believe that their intentions were just. They spoke too fast for Tara to properly defend herself against their accusations, but she knew that she wouldn't get far with anything she had to say.

Tara decided to speak humbly, her unwavering dedication to the task would hopefully instill even the slightest bit of trust, "Although it is to my dismay that you all do not see the truth within our intentions, I respect your resolve as I, too, was once faced with decisions of the like. We will gladly accept your test and we will see to it that the citizens are cured." Tara gave a small bow in respect before turning to her companion and placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder, "Come. Let us see what plagues these people." With that, they were escorted back into the public.

Tara took a deep breath, the air escaping into a mist before her mouth. It was already so cold, there's no way the ill could survive the winter. She turned to her companion, "I would apologize on behalf of the Order for sending your aid to fulfill a task such as this, but it would appear that we were in the same boat--and I mean that literally." Tara let out a chuckle before continuing, "My name is Tarasynora, but you may call me Tara." She took a moment to eye over his appearance, her eyes darting from one elven feature to the next. Perhaps he would be familiar with the name as she was known by many of the elves within her homelands.
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