One year prior.....
Interactions: None
Outfit: Normal
Ed was closing in on a new home, and the road to Greyharrow was quiet. It was far too silent for her liking. It was as if the natural world around her waited with bated breath for a coming change. Her eyes scanned the road ahead, and off to the side of the cobblestone, she could see various ruts that were deep, yet filled by the rainwater that fell and the blood that had been recently spilled. The mud itself was torn apart by a wayward carriage, the scramble of armored boots, and the eventual dragging of bodies that followed. Edwina slowed her pace the moment she saw the wreckage further ahead. The shattered cart wheel caused the carriage to list to the side, and the various crates that were originally in the back lay strewn across the street and mud. Their tops were split open by axes, and whatever content they contained inside was no longer to be found. Some of the crates were still stained red despite the best efforts of the downpour to wash them away. Ed sighed. She knew what she would find on the other side of the carriage; the cycle always announced itself before it arrived. Ed moved forward past the carriage and looked out towards the tree line.
They lay several yards apart.
The first person she spotted was a woman slumped against a battered milestone. Her back was braced against the stone, and her posture held high by stubborn will alone. Her face was more pale than a highborn elf who had never seen the sun, and her breaths were shallow but consistent. Edwina’s eyes drifted down her body. One shoulder hung lower than the other. From her location, she could tell it was either dislocated or fractured. The other arm looked fine, save for the gouges those fingers dug into the mud beneath them. As her eyes scanned further down the woman’s body, she finally spotted the biggest threat. An arrow had punched clean through her thigh. The shaft was snapped short, but it was still stuck deep within the leg. The trouser leg, and the bandages that were haphazardly applied around the wound were soaked red with blood that grew heavier as heavy pulses pushed more blood out of the wound. A severed artery? Ed scanned the spot on the leg and could assume that it was the likely culprit and the biggest threat to this woman's life. Despite her pale visage and dangerous wound, the woman dug into the ground with strength, and Ed could tell she still wanted to live.
Edwina’s eyes drifted towards the center of the road. A man lay close to the true center of the cobblestone, facedown towards the street. Edwina could see the faint sight of his back rising and falling as he still drew breaths. She walked over to his side, knelt to him, and gently rolled him over. Edwina caught her breath at the sight of his wounds, and her usual dour demeanor softened as she tilted her head to the side. She saw that his abdomen had been opened by something heavy and clawed. She could see on the lower marks where the claws had dug into and cut through various sections of his stomach. Blood flowed out faster than anybody, human or otherwise, could replace. The second claw mark was a hair higher, but she could tell that the initial strike of it had cut deep, and the wheezing, uneven breath told her that his lung had collapsed entirely. The man opened his eyes weakly and found hers a short while later. They were glassy, but that did little to hide the pain and terror that resided inside. The man tried to raise a shaking hand towards her cloak.
“Please,” he begged, voice breaking apart around the word, “please. I want to live.”
Behind her, the woman suddenly began to sob. From the raspy tone that came with it, Edwina knew that she had been crying for a while. “Save my dad,” she said forcefully, “don’t worry about me. I have the strength to hold out for a little while longer. He is about to die, so save my dad. Please don’t let him die.”
Edwina closed her eyes, just for a breath, and opened her tome. She shook her head side to side as she flicked through the pages until she landed on the spell she needed.
“I hear you,” Edwina said quietly, to both of them.
“I promise you I do.”She turned first to the man. Edwina placed a hand on his brow, the other over his chest, and began chanting
“hurt turns to peace.”. Her voice was low, steady, yet surprisingly informal. Green light bloomed softly from her palms; the color may have been faint but it was oddly soothing to look at. The color washed over him like a wave over a rock at the beach before the color ended almost as quickly as it came. The pain left him almost immediately. His breath slowed. His shoulders sagged into the mud.
“Your cycle is coming to an end. I wish I could do something for your wounds, but I can’t save you both.“No,” he whispered. Ed could tell a panic was trying to form in his heart, but her healing spell was calming even his emotions. Ed looked down and placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping it ever so slightly, before she nodded her head.
“No one ever wants to die. Your life is ending, but I can still save her.”“No, no, no, don’t you dare,” the woman shouted as she tried to get up, yet the pain in her leg quickly forced her back down. Ed shot her eyes over, monitoring the woman's breathing and color. It seemed she was beginning to transition towards the end, and Edwina needed to be fast. Her eyes returned to the man
“Be at peace, friend, and know that I will do what I can to get her to where you were going.”“Greyharrow, we be heading to Greyharrow,” the man whispered, “others are coming for us. Trying to kill us. Will you protect her?”
“Dad, no, stop, don't say that,” the woman shouted with a newfound strength as she lunged forward and began to crawl towards her father. She groaned, and that sound was only drowned out by the sound of her teeth grinding. Edwina slowly turned her head back towards the girl before taking slow, yet deliberate steps towards her. As she did, she flipped the pages of her tome to the page she needed. The heavy boots clacked against the cobblestone for a brief moment before she knelt at the woman’s side. With a quick motion, her left hand lifted the right thigh, and her right hand found its way to where the arrow exited the leg. With one quick tug, the shaft was pulled clean through. The woman tried to scream, but the pain pulled her voice from her body. The scream bellowed as Edwina placed one hand on both sides of the arrow wound
“Many faced goddess, heed my call. Take this wound and mend it whole.” As she finished the chant, the same green light shot out from her hand, only this time its glow only hit the wound and inside the leg. Instantly, the muscles, blood vessels, and arteries began growing back towards each other at a sickening pace. The woman’s face contorted and and her eyes rolled back as the sudden healing did not come with any form of pain relief. Pain was part of the cycle, and thus the goddess never took away the pain from bones shifting, wounds closing, and arteries mending. A sickening pop was heard as the woman’s shoulder was forced back into position. The woman’s eyes finally rolled back as the healing spell finished, healing up her body and pulling her back from the brink of death.
The woman tried to throw a punch, cocking her arm back as she did, “you bitch,” she whispered as she sent it forward, yet her strength was clearly missing.
“The healing process takes a toll on your body. Soon, you will need a long rest. Before then, you should say your final words to your father,”The woman panted, and the rage that filled her eyes slowly faded as she scanned the road and spotted her father, his head turned to the side and a nearly glazed over look in his eyes. The wheezing sound of his breath still filled the air, but it was growing faint and distant. The young woman tried to move, but the muscles in her leg collapsed immediately. Ed, waiting for this, simply moved to her side and pulled her up over her shoulder and helped carry the girl to her father. Over the next fifteen minutes, the two shared limited words. The girl apologized for her actions, the father said he loved her, and before long, the final goodbyes were shared, and the man passed on to the final part of his cycle. The woman shared one final, loud sob before she succumbed to her tiredness and passed out in the middle of the road.
The shouting and sobbing caught the attention of the assailants. As Ed worked to create a makeshift shelter on the side of the road for herself and the girl, a human male and an armored gnoll strolled out from the wood line with wicked smiles on their face. They did not make a single step onto the road before they spotted a massive, armored skeleton emerging from the opposite tree line. The skeletal creature was at least eight feet tall and covered in a thick, armored plate that, while rusted, looked thicker than their weapons could breach. Edwina turned her attention to her construct and saw that it had a rather large, purple flower in its right hand. The constructs' eyes scanned the flower with an intensity that only the hollow sockets could conjure. Slowly, its head rose from its downward angle and looked at the two bandits ahead.
The flower dropped.
One week prior.....
Interactions: None
Outfit: Normal
Lila was carried through the streets on a gust of mountain wind and she skipped her steps as she went. Her boots were dusted white with powder from the cobblestone streets and wet from the melted snow of the mountain. Branches, bramble, and other bundles of nature found a home on the clothes, the cloak, and were carried forth by her body. She did not seem at all bothered by the cuts and scrapes, and the singular, but large, bruise on the side of her face. This was a fun environment to learn from! The swamp was nothing like this. The swamp was warm, smelly, and teeming with life, while this land was cold, devoid of any other sense besides the one that signaled coldness, and completely barren of anything else. It made foraging difficult, but the land spoke to them, and she listened when she could.
As she moved through the streets, she eventually spotted her destination. Some
helpful locals had told her that there was an apothecary in town, the Wildenbloom, and Lila had spent the better part of the past week canvasing the mountainside for herbs, spices, and everything nice that she could find. Lila knew that this town was a place where she could lay low for a little while, earn some coin, before she moved on to keep one step ahead of the bounty hunters and corporate hit squads that trailed her. She did not know how much these herbs would sell for, but she could tell that each one had various properties that should fetch her enough money for a hot meal, a room, and a well-deserved rest. Thus, as she found herself in front of the door, she nudged it open with a hard shoulder and strolled inside with a confident, yet aloof, step.
“Good morning, Wildenbloom Apothecary! You smell like dried herbs and quality in here. I like it. Nice spot you got!” Without waiting for a response from the man behind the counter, she set her bag on the counter and loosened the drawstring. She began to pull bundles of herbs wrapped in twine or pressed between the bark of the mountain trees. There were pale, feathery leaves that were dusted with some form of chalky residue, small blue flowers that seemed to vibrate when they touched whatever waxy coat the counter had, knotted roots still cold from high elevation, and more. She arranged them with the care that a loving mother might arrange an outfit for their child, and she took her time doing so.
“I picked these above the snowline. Well. Near it. The wind screamed at me up there, you know? Couldn’t tell if it was the nature or some animal comin’ for me.”The apothecary owner sighed before he leaned forward, brows knitting as he studied her wares. “You new in town?” he asked, tone cautious but curious. “Don’t recognize your face. Or your smell..” The man grabbed a nearby clothespin and used it to close his nostrils.
“New-ish,” Lila replied, rocking back on her heels, her hands rocking from side to side as she spoke.
“First day here! You know what’s funny? You are the second person to ask me if today was my first day in town. The first one gave me this,” Lila pointed towards the rather large bruise on her face,
“and his friend gave me this,” she moved her cloak, revealing a small gash that cut through the fabric on her hip, leaving a rather large gash that was covered in some swamp moss. The smile dipped from her face as her head tilted.
“You’re not gonna try what they tried after they asked me that, are you?”“Not a chance,” the man sighed and shook his head. Not another crazy one. He picked up one bundle, removed the clothespin, and sniffed it. Suddenly, his head shot up as his nostrils flared. To Lila, the man’s face looked like he smelled something truly foul, yet the up-and-down nod that preceded the head tilt as he looked over the bundle told her he liked it. “Mountain herbs, huh? You know most folk bring those in dried properly, have you ever dried mountain herbs before? These are quite good quality, all things considered.” He tapped the blue flowers. “And these weren’t ripe yet. If you had waited even a couple of days, you may have had quite the bounty on your hand.”
Lila tilted her head, confused.
“Are you sure they are not ripe? When I brewed them in a tea, they felt quite relaxing.”He snorted. “Relaxing? If you like seeing things that aren’t there, perhaps,” he muttered, then looked at her more closely. “You travel alone up there? Dangerous country. Monsters. Snow slides. Thin air. If you ain’t used to it, all of it, you’ll be claimed right quick.”
“Oh, yes, I did. It was,” Lila said cheerfully,
“an adventure.”He chuckled at the woman. This woman was going to be trouble in town. “And this? Looks like a scree vine. Stuff’s useless. Grows in cracks where nothing else survives. You’re better off looking elsewhere if you spot this junk.”
Lila’s smile sharpened, like a blade polished.
“Useless? Junk,” she echoed, voice still light, still musical. Despite that, it was clear that the woman had taken offense at the word choice of the man.
“That vine is the only home I saw for those mountain birds. Are their nests so beneath you that you would consider their home worthless? And have you even tested it? Or did you take one look at what your eyes saw and not what the plants were showing you?”The man laughed as he knew he was right. This woman was trouble. She was going to fit right in. Still, he had a reputation to uphold, and this woman, angry as she was, was not going to push him around. “Sounds like something a druid, out of their element, would say about a plant they know nothing about.”
Lila reached into her component bag and pulled out a thorn.
Lila leaned forward, hands on the counter, eyes shining a little too hard.
“Say that again.” Her smile only grew as she leaned forward.
The man opened his mouth to retort, but stopped as a hand gently wrapped around Lila’s wrist.
“Hey,” a feminine voice said, with her body practically materializing at her side as if she’d always been there. “You’re doing the spiral thing that Cleric was telling me I do!”
Lila blinked. Once. Twice. A third time more. Her eye slowly slid from the man in front to the hands around her waist, before resting on the woman to her side.
“Oh,” the woman laughed, shaking her head side to side. “Right, right. Sorry. I often forget that strangers don’t know me yet. I am Sadie!”
“Hi…Sadie,” Lila’s smile still did not leave her face, yet her right eyebrow arched at the audacity,
“You like grabbing strangers?”Sadie’s fingers loosened, but didn’t leave. “Only the ones ready to cast a spell. Or grab a dagger. Oh! And a fighter cracking their knuckles once. He looked like he wanted to drive a fist through the good owner’s face, so I gave him a big old hug!”
Lila shifted her eyes back to the man behind the counter. He simply shrugged his shoulders and sighed again. “She’s still learnin’ her manners. Means no harm, but I doubt she spent long around people wherever she is from.”
“I see,” Lila tilted her head as a warmth returned to the smile,
“Well, Sadie, I just love your energy! You are infectious! I am Lila,” Lila closed her eyes as she laughed aloud, wrapping her free hand around Sadie’s shoulders.
“Oh no,” Bram sighed as he realized, too late, that the two were destined to be friends.
One day prior.....
Interactions: None
Outfit: Normal
As night fell on the city of Greyhaven, the air felt heavy as if the area itself was holding its breath. Kel moved silently through it, from roof to roof, and from shadow to shadow. Her boots never rested long enough to leave an impression. As she moved, she looked down at the road below. The lanternlight pooled on the cobblestone, illuminating the puddles that covered it. She knew she had made the right call once again traversing the city this way, as she could not be seen on the streets this night. It wasn’t like anyone would be able to tell who she was, as her body was covered from head to toe, from front to the tip of her tail, in black cloth that hid her brightly colored skin and hair.
“Ahead.”The voice rumbled through her head as the road lay ahead of a stampede of bulls. Her patron’s presence had followed her like a corpse on a wave. It was cold, devoid of kindness, but oddly direct with its want.
“Below.”Kel looked down as she jumped across a narrow alley and saw a young teenager creeping along the walls. In her brief glimpse, she could see that the hood and cloak he wore were too large for his frame, yet the extra fabric did little to hide the shaking that emanated from his body. She knew at that moment her mark was already secluded, and she could simply wait for the right moment to strike. She slowly crept back towards the edge of the alleyway and looked down. Kel could see glimpses of the dirty blonde hair that she remembered from that night a long while ago. His green eyes would occasionally catch the light, and she could see just how wide they were. Above all else, he could see how young he was. The kid was no older than thirteen at this point, barely a teenager and with a full life ahead of him. He did not choose to offend the sea, he did not know the dangers that came with fishing those waters, did he truly deserve to die?
“Yes.” The patron's voice crashed against her mind like the tide. It was a heavy presence that carried with it the smell of salt and an anger older than comprehension. Images began to flash across her mind. The cove that the family fished clean. The village was large, with fifteen different families making up a population of one hundred individuals. From what she learned, this village was formed two hundred years ago as a small community moved to the area, intending to supply the nearby towns with food. Yet, as the old guard died, the new generation only took more. More fish pulled from their home, more destruction wrought on the sea, and eventually, their brutal practice caused the collapse of many different species in the area. This extinction spread outward and threatened more and more, until her patron balanced the situation. Yet, as her patron balances one end of the scale, it must do so with the other. Thus, her patron called on Kel to right the balance. In the night that she struck, the waves smashed the ships against the rocks, the buildings were locked from the outside and put to the torch, those who made it out were cut down by many blades, and all who had wronged the sea were pulled into it save for one.
He had not grown since that night. Kel watched him now as she clumsily slipped into an abandoned courtyard, and made his way to a dilapidated shed to spend the night. Kell knew this boy was too young to have chosen what his village did. Kel knew that he was innocent and did not deserve to have this curse placed on his life. She struggled against the patron's will and grimaced as it felt like its tendrils wrapped around her heart.
“No, no I can’t, Kel pushed her patron back as she whispered her objection,
“he’s just a child. He had no part to play in that disaster. Spare him.“No.” The pressure doubled on her mind, and Kel fell to her feet as her hands pressed against her head. She felt like her patron was just as likely to kill her in this moment as kill the child. Still, Kel had experienced this many times before. Early on in her pact with her patron, she had quickly realized the creature did not like when it was challenged. It would remind her of the power balance in many ways, but causing physical pain was one of its favorite ways. It was also a way that Kel could overpower, even for just a minute. Kel focused her mind on the task, and she pushed back against its influence all across her mind and body. Eventually, the pressure lessened before it disappeared. After a few pained breaths, Kel rose to her feet. She knew she might have a couple of minutes if she was lucky, but she needed to warn the child to run.
She dropped from the rooftop with a silent step. The boy was still unaware of her presence, and she quickly closed the distance. As she drew close, she allowed her feet to make noise on the muddy dirt, which forced the boy to turn around at once.
“You need to run, Kel began as she held her hands up, trying to disarm the boy's frightened energy. She could see he had a knife drawn on her, but his shaky hand would do little to harm her if he actually tried anything,
“I know what happened to your family. That same evil is coming for you as we speak. Stick to the main road, and run, Kel paused as she stepped off to the side, giving the boy a clear path to run down and away.
The boy looked at her for too many seconds before his eyes darted to the path he had taken and began to run back the way he came, but, before either Kel or the boy could react, her patron roared back into her head. Her eyes swirled like an angry whirlpool in the dark ocean, and she watched in horror as her tail coiled around the shoulder of the boy. She felt it pull him in close and knew what came next. Her blade was in his throat, and a second later, it was pulled through. Her tail let go of his shoulder, wrapped around his ankle, and pulled him off his feet. As he fell, her free hand filled with a ball of water, and she used this magic to summon a tentacle. The tentacle roared to life like an angry wave and shot out and grabbed the boy by his head. As it pulled the boy back, she watched as one of his hands pressed against his open neck, while the other reached and grabbed for anything that could save him from being pulled under. A second later, he was pulled into the tentacle and through the watery threshold into his grave.
“Finished.”
Current day.....
Interactions: None
Outfit: N/A
The Waystone Inn was loud in a way only desperation could muster. It was filled with the layered roar of voices, clattering mugs, and the surprisingly good singing of the Inn’s very own Sharmin Mildmeadow. The crowd was massive, and the sheer mass of people meant that those traversing the bar often had to move sideways, shuffle along the bodies of others, and often feel crushed as the crowd moved too and fro with the music. Kel sat hunched at the bar, hair damp with sweat and rain, and her fingers weaved themselves together around a large, glass stein of an alcoholic beverage known as
Something Else. The drink was created near the end of many keg's life, and would often use the last few drops of several different kinds of alcohols, liqueurs, and spirits. The alcohol would burn, the taste would be awful, but it wa strong. And the strong burn of this alcohol was an easier pain for Kel to manage than the thoughts of that poor boy who tried to claw his way to freedom the other day.
In the corner closest to the door, Gulda was doing what Gulda did best when she wasn’t at her forge. She was a winner, and she was winning. Her eyes watched the cards as they slapped the table with crisp noise. The first three cards revealed two aces, diamonds and spades, and a four of spades. The tabaxi across from her, who had sleek black fur and who smiled far too wide for an honest game of cards, pushed all his money into the pot. Gulda tossed her cards down on the table, folding. He purred as he raked in another pile of money, tail flicking in the air behind him, until a singular card slipped free from his sleeve and slid across the table until it stopped right in front of Gulda. Gulda’s smile widened, the tabaxi’s smile vanished. The table fell silent, waiting for what came next. Instead of a fist, Gulda simply started laughing. She laughed hard, and loud, and bellowed this laugh for fifteen seconds before her hands reached under the table and flipped it with a quick, sudden jerk. The table fell on top of the tabaxi, and Gulda finally raised her fist and crashed it across the jaw of the feline felon. Next to Gulda, an older, more gruff tabaxi began to cheer her on.
On the opposite corner of this unfolding chaos, Lila sat cross-legged at a table that was far too crowded for her. However, empty steins littered the table as if she were building a shrine to bad decisions. She laughed at nothing; she laughed at everything. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes were bright yet unfocused. She tipped back yet another stein, and a hushed voice whispered that she should have been down several drinks ago.
“What d’ya mean I am ‘too cute for my own good’! That’s just *hic* silly,” Lila somehow laughed out before she threw a punch towards the shoulder of the latest man who tried to join her at her table, impacting with a sicking thud that was much harsher than any punch from her had any right to be. She swayed too and fro as she chuckled.
Rosa, the bartender, stood ready behind the bar. She watched the crowd like a hawk watching a small animal, waiting for anyone to step out of line too far. Rosa was not willing to let her bar fall into too much disrepair tonight; however, she knew that often this was out of her control. If it wasn’t for the litera servant army that was hidden behind those kitchen walls, it would have been impossible for her and her husband to keep up with the damage these idiots brought each night they were crowded. Still, the money was flowing tonight. Money kept these walls together. Money kept the alcohol flowing. Money was everything in this town, and as long as she had more than the others, she was ahead. Still, she hoped that tonight there would be no cause for her to step in and use the training. Her eyes shifted towards the door and saw the flickering of a cloak caught in the wind, and knew that a healer was at least ready for that potential conflict.
Outside, Edwina stood just beside the doorway, half in the glow of the inn and half in the night. Her tome was open in one hand, a pencil poised in the other, and she calmly recorded fragments of the conversations drifting past her. Through the broken glass came the layered sounds of the Waystone: the thud of a fist meeting wood, the reckless optimism of youth drunk on cheap ale, the clumsy, hopeful attempts at flirtation that always seemed to bloom before things turned ugly. She listened, not to judge, but to understand, trying to make sense of the beautiful, tangled mess of it all.
This was more hobby than duty for Edwina, but she found it necessary all the same. In a town like Greyharrow, it was vital to keep one’s hands and mind occupied. The place had a way of pressing in on you, urging you to become more, to take more, to be sharper, harder, louder. Lose sight of what you enjoyed, of who you wanted to be, and it was frightening how easily the town’s rot could sink its teeth into you. Writing, observing, anchoring herself to quiet patterns—these things kept her steady.
To her right, she kept one eye on her construct, which had followed her into town once again without being asked. It crouched near the wall, skeletal hands cupped gently around a trembling field mouse. The construct tilted its skull this way and that, studying the tiny creature with the same wide-eyed curiosity a child might show, careful not to squeeze, careful not to frighten it further. Edwina allowed herself a faint smile at the sight.
Then a sudden flicker across the road caught her attention.
Her head snapped up toward the looming arcane tower opposite the inn. She studied it carefully, eyes tracing its silhouette, searching for any sign of change. At first glance, there was nothing, no warping of stone, no visible aberration that suggested the barrier had altered. Her head tilted slightly, one eyebrow arching as doubt crept in. Edwina had never believed the tower to be something that could be forced. Some things, she knew, were beyond mortal will. If the goddess of change wished the cycle to open the tower, it would. Until then, it would remain closed, as it always had.
And yet.
That flicker lingered in her thoughts, an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. Something about the barrier had moved. She considered her options. She could go inside, report what she had seen, and within moments the inn would empty of wizards desperate to test their luck once more. Fire would tear the sky apart, the earth would tremble beneath reckless spellwork, and when it was over, Edwina would be left stitching bones back together and whispering prayers over bodies that hadn’t needed to break in the first place.
She didn’t want that. Not tonight.
Tonight already carried the promise of blood and bruises. A fight was raging inside, and experience told her several more would follow before the night was through. Adding arcane ambition to that volatile mix would be cruel.
Besides, she thought, closing her tome just a fraction, what was the worst that could happen if she kept her mouth shut?