The air was much colder down in this part of the castle, although they weren’t terribly far from where her den was. The air tasted of a darkness that suckled at everything living. Heat, life, joy, till nothing was left but an icy void. A side effect of the secrets kept locked just out of her reach.
Not that Ang tried very hard to reach them. The dead were gone and had very little value to her. It couldn’t be moulded or worked with or even used for useful parts. Once the life faded from it, the magic vanished too. All that was left behind was meat.
Meat her children would have adored. Ang watched the skeletons leave with the corpse with an unreadable expression. If Ryleth couldn’t have left her the meat, he should have offered the bones in its space. T’was only polite.
“Silly boy, the night is already waning,” She said, halting the man’s movement before taking the lead in their little dance. Shamelessly swaying even as the robe slipped down off her shoulders. More comfortable in her nudity than in the finest dress of silk. “Although, if you have no pressing matters to attend to, you might find me in my rooms,” She stood on the tips of her toes, her lips nearly touching his. “After, of course, I find food for my children,” She pulled away from the man, her limbs slowly unwinding. She made no effort to cover her form, nor did she looked back as she left the man to his thoughts.
The shadows had faded to nothing before the hunter was entirely out of view. The last thing the coven needed right now was for a hunter to follow them back because Taran was too eager to return home. Alexina would not look to kindly on him leading a true enemy back to the coven while their home was in turmoil. And so...they waited.
Once he was certain that the hunter was too far away to easily track them, he allowed his body to feel the exhaustion of the day. His legs ached from running and his wrist still burned, while his finger had gone worryingly numb.
“I think we are good to-” Taran felt the would ‘go’ die on his lips as he turned to look at Celosia.
Starting from her roots, Taran watched as her hair turned bright molton orange and spread down her body, incinerating her clothing as it went before finally pooling around her ankles.
The girl quickly covered her body with her dripping hair, but not before Taran caught sight of the gentle, very naked, curves of her body. He immediately looked away, refusing to meet the girls eyes again, even after she had adjusted her ‘hair’ to save her modesty.
The smell of the woods burning filled the air as tiny (but ever growing) plumes of smoke started to rise into the air. “You can control that...right?” he said, his eyes glued to the slowly appearing stars “Alexina doesn’t like it when people mess with her forest,”
The scream of a child echoed through the night. For all of it’s short falls, Seren’s Folly was not a dangerous place for children to live. Without hesitation, Lyra took off towards the sound, leaving Emiliah to go after her supplies on her own. The thought of following her hardly crossing Emiliah’s mind. Either Lyra could handle it on her own, or it would be suicide for Emiliah to try and help empty handed. Her cottage wasn’t far though, a few street over from the tavern. She would have to count on the girl holding her own until she could return.
Goblin Lore:
Goblins are skittish creatures that like to lurk among the dark places of the world. Ruins, crypts, caves and thickly covered bogs being their favorites. They tend to avoid interacting with most humans. The most common tales of interaction are of human caravans that come too close to goblins hunting grounds and farmers complaining about the goblins attacking their livestock. Goblins are fascinated by chickens. There is evidence that they see the creatures as a type of god on earth. When Goblins get too hyped up in a large crowd, they have been known to cause havoc that would topil most towns. Like orcs, of which they share a common ancestor, they tend to favor the pleasure of ‘human flesh’. Rarely discriminating between genders and often confused between fornication and eating their victim. It is unclear by what means the creatures are motivated…..
Weidango Lore:
They are creatures of gluttony. Formed by man and doomed to never be sated. These creatures are beyond reason, their hunger being the only thing that drives them. They are often found in deserted mines, caves and other place far away from any human settlement. They are said to be the twisted remains of a man driven to do horrible things. As all men do when they are starving.
They are fast, faster than you can imagine and deceptively strong. The only thing that truly keeps god-fearing men safe from these creatures is that they cannot think or breed….
She had her home clearly in her sights when a heavy weight crashed into her legs. Sending her sprawling into the dirt. Through the dim light given off by the torches that lined the streets, Emiliah caught sight of a small, dog size creature pulling itself up. It’s body was covered in oozing sores and small tufts of hair springing up at odd angles. It opened it mouth to reveal a mess of long, broken and jagged teeth.
A Goblin
His eyes were wild, like he was just as surprised to run into her and she was to be ran into. It let out a gargled call and a nearby window shattered as another goblin crashed through it. Clutching a wooden spoon with one hand, while using the other to pull out the glass now stuck in his arm.
They were mostly harmless creatures. Goblins.
Well...not harmless, they were destructive diseased creatures...the rats of the monster world. They could topple a small town and ruin lives with there sheer ferocity. But at least they were easy to kill.
A sharp pain shot up Emiliah’s leg as yet a third goblin joined their party. His claws ripping at her pants, tearing threw them like nothing, drawing blood in their wake. With a poorly concealed scream, she yanked her leg back, freeing it from the creatures claws, before stomping down hard on the creature. It let out a howl of pain, grasping at it’s leg. She didn’t think she broke it, but it wouldn’t be overly eager to follow her for the time being.
She bolted towards her front door, yanking it open and slamming it shut behind her a second later. She could hear those who had retired early being roused by what must have been a sizable tribe of goblins. The three she ran into cleary not being the only things to terrorize the town this night.
With her spear now in hand, Emiliah braced herself for her reentry into the world. A glance out her front window showed the goblins in all their horrible might. A group of them had a poor soul pinned down as they began to tear his clothes apart, their claws drawing blood at the same time, the scream of the man begging for people to help as the fowl creatures began to do unspeakable things to him.
Emiliah pulled open her door, just has one of her three friends from earlier tried to bust in. The creature raced inside, only to be met with a quick and merciful death. Her satisfaction was short lived as the odour of the creatures blood was among one the foulest scent.
From somewhere else a huge plume of smoke started raise from what was sure to be even more goblin antics. Something even the most oblivious of hunters was sure to notice.
A foul stench permeated the air. The hunter that had been chasing her shouted out some nonsense. The stench grew stronger.
“No!” Wendi’s voice coming out louder than any humans should. “No Goblins are not good for eating! They wreck and poison good meat!” She let out another ear splitting screech before jumping back at the hunter who was closest to her. With far more strength than anything her size should poses, drug him to the ground.
“ We have to feast now, before the meat is tainted,” From outside the gloom of the trees, two tall, crouching figures came into the light. Mostly bone and muscle. Grey skin stretching tightly over their emaciated bodies.
“Thank you sir,” Said Wendi, “You are saving my parents….they are very. Very. Hungry,”
A bitter sweet smell filled her nose as a cloth was passed over her face. The overwhelming stench burn her eyes. Her eyes grew wide as she finally managed to register what they were trying to do with what the other man said. A wave of more panic came into her eyes, She struggled more, she had to get out of their arms. They had no intention in going to find her parents right now. She had to get back to them so she did what she did best.
She bit down.
Hard.
She bit the new strangers arm as he tried to pass the cloth to the first one. Blood was easily drawn. With suddenly seeming to have more energy she lashed out with a renewed passion to get away. Scratching the first man's face while he reached out to grab the cloth. No longer able to hold her with both arms she managed to wriggle free, falling flat on her side.
“No! Mama...Papa...They need help,” Her voice coming in tight gasps. “Please….please let me show you where,” She let out a dry sob, “P-please they’ll die,” She said as she tried to get up and away from them. Not waiting for them to answer.
Her pace was slow, hardly a run at all. But they were close enough to the forest that she was able to reach the trees quickly. “Please, come look,” She called back.
The figure she’d been following had long vanished ahead of her. He’d had ignored her calls, or perhaps he didn’t hear them. She needed help desperately, the blade that had tried to end her life had left a gaping wound deep in her ribs.
There was the gnawing doubt in her mind she wasn’t going to make it. Seren’s Folly was close...so very close. But her body’s fatigue was growing. Her stomach was empty. It had been so long since she last eaten.
She felt her legs give out and pain shoot through her body a few feet from the edge of town. Blinking back the tears from her eyes, she saw a figure standing not to far, staring into the woods.
“ Can you help me?” she called her voice shaking with pain , standing on a nearly deserted street. There were sounds of activity coming from inside the buildings, keeping the eeriness at bay. “Please….a- a monster attacked my family. They are dying. Please, please, please help,”
“The hunting worlds isn’t as large as some believe. Our parents were acquaintances,” Said Emiliah, watching Flint continue to make a spectacle of himself. Although it had been many years since she had last seen him, his facial features were an instance match to the gangly boy who was constantly chatting up the barmaid.
"Who's ready to go huntin for some windigos?' In an instant, all the weariness faded from her body. This was a chance to actually do something, rather than just bare witness to tragedy. And while she hadn’t personally ever fought a wendigo before, it was clear that many had. Offering her a near fail safe way to become acquainted with this foe.
She reach down to grab for her spear, only to come back empty handed. A sudden nakedness about being just in her civilian clothing sent shivers through her body. She had gotten to comfortable.Stupid It was one of the most important rules, to always be ready for a fight.
“I need to return home to grab my gear,” said Emiliah softly to Lyra. “Come with me? We can look for your 'friend' on the way. He can’t have gone far,”
The howls of the wolves upset her children. The summons of Alexina’s pets were able to penetrate even the deepest part of the castle. Caws, howls, and the sob of a woman tried to answer the call of the wolves. But a few soothing words calmed them down, save the creature crying with a voice of a woman. It came from one of the large covered cages in the corner. It pained Ang beyond belief to have to trap her children so. But they sometimes children needed adjustment time, time for their bodies to ‘settle’.
Every inch of Ang’s bed was covered with creatures of feather, fur, skin or something in between. As all children, her’s were soothed by their mothers presents and soon lulled back into a peaceful slumber.
Hardly a half hour passed before a heavy mental thunk riled every one up again. Although this time, her creatures were not to easily soothed. “Alright, I’m getting up my darlings,” she said, standing and brushing all manner of creatures off her naked form.
She reached down and pulled a robe carefully out from under one of the few still snoozing creatures. A great ball of fur with a tail that never stopped moving. The furry creature looked at her with far too human of eyes, before rolling back over and willing itself to sleep. “Really M’love, you’ll have to stop sulking sooner or later,” She muttered, rolling her eyes at her insolent child. Pulling her robe over her shoulders, she left to find something that would satisfy her poor children. Perhaps as snack.
As she opened the door, a few of the more clever, speedy ones followed her out, vanishing into the shadowy corners of the castle. Her eyes watched them flee until they stopped upon the back of a certain warlock, heading down to his own private lair.
“Was that you causing all that trouble m’dear,” Said Ang creeping up behind the man, pressing her chest to his back and sliding her arm around his waist, ignoring the rapidly cooling body in his arms. “Getting up to all sorts of silly mischief? How naughty of you,”
“Are you going to use all of that?” She said, her free hand reaching out to caress the corpses face, her nails tracing a pattern through the blood that was slowly drying.
She didn’t have much use for a corpse for her own magic, but her children were hungry.
The entrance of the injured hunter was like kicking the hornet's nest. All around people sprung into action. Some running to help the man, some running towards the danger the man was running from. Emiliah caught sight of the man’s face while he was laid out on the table. A flicker of recognition ate at the back of her mind, but the name utterly escaped her.
She was rotten when it came to healing. Every hunter knew the basics, keep it clean, pressure. Basically enough to keep oneself (and others) alive long enough to seek actual help. She probably could have made more of an effort to aid the healer, but there were plenty of others far more capable of helping.
A few left the Tavern to head out to assess the risk, but Emiliah was far more keen to see what she was facing before charging at it head on. The best way to figure that out, was to wait for the hunter to awaken enough to tell them. Besides, it was clear that whatever it was wasn’t waiting for them just outside the tavern. In a town of hunters, for any magical creature to step foot in it would be near suicide.
“Can you help me with something? There’s this… man and I’m… worried.” Emiliah tore her eyes away from the unconscious man, her eye focusing on the pretty girl hoovering near Bobby’s shoulder. An uncomfortable icy feeling spread from her stomach throughout her body as the girl spoke. Emiliah has been in enough taverns to know that a few things could worry a girl there, none of them good.
Before Bobby could respond, Emiliah teacher out a hand, grasping the girls arm and gently pulling her out of the crowd. “Hey Bobby, I got this, you keep your tavern from getting too many blood stains,”
“Whatever ye day Lass, but ‘m right here is ya need anything”
He gave a finally look towards the trio, before muttering something and turning back to the scene at hand.
“Lyra? It’s Lyra right?” Said Emiliah quickly, she remembered running into the girl earlier in the week. “I’m Emiliah, we met earlier. What seems to be the problem?”
A loud thunk echoed around the room. The man’s injured figure had managed to slip from the table and straight into the lap of the healer. In an instant the face clicked in her mind. “Fucking Flint,” she whispered just loud enough for the girl to hear.
A loud crack echoed through the air and Taran’s vision flashed dark. By the time he had blinked away the blackness threatening to force him unconsciousness, his was already off his feet, laying amongst the foliage. His head and side throbbed from the impact, but couldn't compare with the sharp pain radiating from his wrist that had reached out to stop his fall. It felt...wrong, icy and hot. Taran couldn't bring himself to look at it as he laid in the dirt a moment longer, trying to get his lungs to stop rejecting the air he brought in.
The world still sounded very far away when, with a great deal of effort, Taran pulled himself into a sitting position. His wrist smarting with every move he made, an attempt to move his fingers informed him that the fingers on his left hand were no longer capable of that action. In the distance, the sounds of the...somethings...were rattling far too close for comfort.
It was only then that Taran saw the what, more like who, he’d run into. Sprawled nearly on top of him was a human figure. A quick scan of the man confirmed that this creature was the second worst thing Taran could have run directly into. A hunter. It took every ounce of will power to not to something foolish, like set the forest and this human aflame. The rattling sound grew louder, reminding Taran that there were things worst than hunters in the word. If only just.
A part of him was tempted to just leave the human there. After all, a dead hunter was better than a dead witch. But doing so felt the same murder. Hunter or not, he was human. A living person doing what he thought was the right thing. All of the contradicting thoughts shot through his head at a mile a minute, before settling on the only choice he could live with.
Taking a deep breath, Taran pulled himself to his feet, keeping his injured wrist pulled close to his chest. “Can you stand?” he said quickly, offering out his uninjured hand. The adrenaline and urge to run from before returning as the sound of the undead grew closer, muting the pain. That would be the deciding factor. If he was too injured to walk well... neither of them were strong enough to carry the hunter out. It also helped that hunter were good at killing monsters.
If worse came to worse, the hunter could slow the monsters down.
I typed this on my phone...I'm sorry for all the mistakes...I promise I will fix them as soon as I am back on a computer
The shadows of the forest had all but disappeared, despite it not being so far passed high noon. There was a wrongness about the forest, the danger flicking in and out of sight, like an itch you can feel but not find. Taran’s paced quickened, the urge to flee whatever was coming was nearly all powerful. But running...Running felt like a rabbit, like the mere effort to escape is what would draw the fox.
Small flecks of embers flashed in Taran’t peripheral vision as a fluttering ball of fire swam in front of his eyes, startling him and slowing his pace to a stop. It was obvious where the flame creature had come from. There could only be so many flame witches in a single forest.
The fire creature was so much more delicate and intricate than anything he could create. The wings were flames that were nearly translucent, yet filled with brilliant oranges and reds. The creature’s very center was filled with hot white flames that faded into deep purple.
The worry fell from Taran’s face as he reached out to the flamebeast, mesmerized by its beauty. One of his hands reached out to stroke it's delicate wing, causing a warm, fluttering to dance across his finger tips.
And just like that, the warmth vanished, returning to the hand of it’s master. Taking with it the distraction of the wrongness of the woods.
“I cannot promise you that any of your demands can and will be met,” Said Taran quickly, as thought explaining something obvious. “You can meet with Alexina, she will at least listen to what you require. Nobody will make you stay if you don’t like what she has to tell you,”
The anxiety that had been building in the pit of his stomach suddenly spread though his arms and legs. “I-It’s Taran. My name...We shouldn’t...We can’t. We can’t be here anymore,” There was a sudden shout of the village, the scream of a man. The town had filled with fog that was slowly seeping into the woods around them. Without much of a warning, nor a glance back, Taran took off, the fog ever nipping at his ankles.
...It has been debated heavily amongst scholars about the exact origins of hunters. Surely anyone can (and many do) pick up a sword and run into battle. There are thousand of corpses that prove this fact. But the question remains, what makes the difference between a true hunter and fool with a sword. Father Tav theorizes that it is a mixture of luck, skill and determination (in that order) . There are many would agree with him, indeed this writer assumes that most of humanity holds this view (there would be a great many less dead fools otherwise). However, Father Huggs has noticed an interesting pattern. That a great many notable hunters born outside of ‘hunter clans’ and all seem to have been born under the blood moon……
And now….Flint
“Finding a mate...Well good luck with--” The door of the tavern slammed open, groaning as its massive weight bounced off the wall, cutting off Emiliah’s sentence. The sound startled and drew the attention of the most of patrons. Even though a big shot slamming open the door was a fairly common occurrence. There was always someone who thought their message was worth the attention of everyone. Sometimes they were right in thinking so.
Following the door was a rather...Nondescript man. He was of average size and build and wore a red half cloak that showed the clear signs of ‘having seen some stuff’. The man carried his weapon as thought he was expecting a fight or had just come from one. Judging by his appearance it was the latter.
His face was covered in a collection of small cuts and bruises, common injuries from running through the thick woods that surrounded Seren’s Folly from every direction, save the few narrow roads in and out. The quake in his step alluded to having come a far distance. The closer he got, the more extensive his injuries became. Scarlett drops scatter across the floor from a deep gash on his forearm that held up his bow.
“Bobby-” His voice was hoarse, breathless. “We’ve got- got a slight problem ,” The door slammed behind the man, knocking whatever strength he had been holding. He collapsed to the floor. A monster of a wolf that had enter behind him crouched next to the fallen man, lapping at his injuries, trying to revive his human.
Bobby stopped his conversation as he maneuvered behind his bar to get a better look at who called him from the door. His eyes wide seeing the boy collapsing to the floor. “EY!” he bellowed. “What you all waiting for? Pick the lad up! Soph! We need some towels!” He limped around the bar as he noticed nobody was moving. “Well come on you Idjits! Quickly now. Up on the table. Don’t want him bleedin’ all over my floor!”
“Think what you will, but I assure you that this was not the coven's doing. That may have been the old way that things were done, but Mistress Alexina is changing that,” He said, watching the witch carefully, less he need to flee her wrath. “It is an unspeakable evil that your village was caught in the crossfire of the coven’s growing pains. But I can assure that every one of those foolish enough to have attacked your village will pay back every drop of blood they have spilled,”
In the distance, the ringing had stopped. Although the caravan of humans seemed to have been riled into action by the noise. Their numbers and weapons were apparent, even from this distance and spelled out only one thing. That it would be absolute maddeness to stay. ” It’s a tiny offering, I know. But you will have safety in the coven. You’ll have people that know the you you couldn’t be before and value you all the same,” He watched the witch pace to him and back to the depths of her cave.
“I know I am the last person you will want to hear this from, but there is nothing left for you here. Every soul that once resided in this village has been released by the flames that burned it to the ground. So I ask again, will you come back with me? Let us prove that we aren’t the monsters a few of our….members want us to be," Taran stood just outside the cave a moment longer.
“ The lone witch rarely survives the night, if I have not convinced you now, hopefully you will think on it, With a last look towards the ashy remains of the city, Taran turned and started heading away from the witch. The fox stood a moment longer, nosing at the dirt, before following his charge.
The rough texture of the man’s arm offered hand engulfed not only her hand, but a portion of her forearm as well. All the while, the tavern begin to fill with all sorts. The cheerful few who had not heard, witnessed or cared about Goldencrest started to water down the somber tone of the night thus far. Leaving the tavern with a very run mill sort of night. It wouldn’t be a night where the drinks flowed till everyone crashed under the tables and the oldest hunter told long winded (somewhat believable) stories about the ‘Golden Days of Hunter’. Nor did it seem that the horrors would be allowed to dictate the full mood much longer.
“My name is Emilah,” She said finally, watching the Andvari drink deeply from the mead Bobby knowingly poured. Clearly Bobby knew of this man if he was so bold as to offer the unasked for drink. He must have been one of the ‘good’ ones for Bobby to make such an effort with the drinks. Before the conversation could continue, a third voice joined the conversation.
Emiliah could hear the man long before she could see him. The much small hunter had most of his body blocked out by Andvari’s much larger form. "You stink of the road mister! If you don’t bathe properly the prey will notice you. ....and then you'll die...I'm Sanjin, do you have work?"
Straining slightly to see the face of owner of the voice around the giants figure, Emiliah saw a man. He was much smaller than Andvari (although who wasn’t), with a mess of scarlet hair. His clothing was not so out of place at the tavern, save the mask strapped to his hip, proclaiming him to be one of the ‘pack’.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with the pack. If you stayed Seren’s Folly long enough you were bound to run into a least a few. They tended to travel together and, as her father put it were, ‘An odd wiley bunch, but good enough when the real enemy is breathing down yer back,’. She had only hunted with them a few times, but they always seemed well enough. If a bit enthusic at times.
"I'm surprised to see a member of The Pack so far North this late in the year, Said Emiliah, watching the boy bounce on his heels. It was clear by several of the hunter's around responses that very few had exposure to members of the pack.
Creeping on Mat@TheDoctor and everyone else in Goldencrest (why are you there??) and talking with Celosia@Kitty
Earlier….
The howling of the wolves in an otherwise silent night roused many of the castle’s diurnal inhabitants and drew the eyes of the ones that worshiped the night.
Standing in the courtyard was Alexina’s pack of wolves. Huge beasts that that could rise above the height of some men, in the middle of the pack were five of their own. Even from his tower window, Taran could see the wolves snapping whenever one of the five move too quickly or in the wrong way. The largest of the wolves sent forth a summoning howl that pulled all out from the castle into the bitter chill of the night air.
The moon cast long shadows that were dispersed by the flickering of torches across the courtyard as more and more witches filled in the ranks. A hand caught Taran’s shoulder as he stepped into the courtyard. Glancing toward the owner of the hand, his eyes were met with the piercing gold eyes of Alexina, full of rage, hurt and sorrow. Without speaking Taran reached out a hand to comfort her, to try to take away some of the burden she refused to share. Whatever was coming and whatever had happened...it cost Alexina deeply.
“Alexina,” he whispered after a few seconds, he kept his words soft and slow, so’s not to add to the woman’s stress. “What is it? What has happened?”
He felt her hand tighten on his shoulder and for a moment he thought that she wasn’t going to tell him. “Some...something that shouldn’t have,” She took a deep breath. “There was an incident in a village and some of our witches did something inexcusable. Something-But never mind that, I need you to do something for me. When my wolves were returning they caught the scent of an unfamiliar witch. It was all over the village as though she inhabited there but gone when the wolves swept through. She cannot be left alone. This incident will bring every hunter within a league sniffing around the forest she’ll be hiding in. Find her...offer her sanctuary, ” Alexina turned and took a few steps into the courtyard. “ It is our fault that she lost hers..”
Taran stood a moment longer as Alexina started to address the crowd before leaving. It wasn’t the first time Alexina sent him out to recruit from under the noses of hunters. He blended in more than his brothers and sisters of the coven. Being male automatically made him overlookable, there were so few male witches that to assume he was one was far fetched. He also didn’t boast his statues like some other warlocks who took pride in who they were. No...unless he started shooting fireballs, no one had any reason to suspect he was what he was.
As he left the castle a tiny shadow emerged from the woods. A fox with far too clever eyes to be a normal animal approached. One of Alexina’s. “Alexina...I don’t need a chaperone,” Taran muttered under his breath. The fox yawned in response, sneezed and then followed him anyway.
His travels brought him to and around the town more times than he would have liked. He stood on the edge of the clearing as the hunters lit the fire that burned the town to ash. He was exhausted and longed to return back, but every time his mind wandered to that thought, the fox seemed to catch a scent and take off into the bushes.
As the sky began to darken, the pair walked past the entrance of a cave and the fox gave a small noise before leading up to its’ entrance. Inside was a red headed women, looking a few years older than himself but with witches looks meant nothing. She could be a hundred years old for all her looks were worth.
“Excuse me,” he said softly, so as not to frighten her. “You’re the witch from Goldencrest?” He said softly, casting a small spark of fire in his palm to show her that he meant no harm. “Mistress Alexina would like to offer her coven as home to you, to offer you sanctuary in this time of great tragedy,”
Even from this distance, the air smelt of smoke and faintly of cooked meat.
“No no no…” Screamed a voice from the town. The sight showed that the once deserted area now held more than a few guests “Who the hell did this?”
“You should join us,” He said finally, just as the bell from the church started to ring. The little fox jumped onto Tarans shoulders, looking at the redheaded.
TheDoctor
urukhai
