Fetzen

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

His arrival at Seren's Folly had been anything but pompous. The place Andvari usually lived at - Oriel's palace - was several hundred miles from the village and finding efficient means of transport was quite a little more difficult in his case. After a few traders and travelers had given him a ride on their wagons his luck had ultimately ran out, leaving him with nothing else than his very feet to propel him forwards. His supplies, weapons and other stuff ? Packed into a small cart dragged behimd him. Maybe a bit unorthodox, but much more comfortable than actually carrying all that stuff for an undetermined amount of time. At least the weather had held, allowing him to get into the village in a very tired, but clean condition.

The only problem had been the fact that the average villager wasn't exactly responsive when it came to giving advice to a bloody newcomer in the middle of the night. Andvari had been left to his own devices, resulting in him putting up his tent at a spot that he merely had thought to be a good one. Still a large tent was much more functional for him than a room in the tavern: It cost a huge lot less, he didn't have to worry about making a mess, and there wasn't any furniture he'd either break or feel uncomfortable with. A simple hammock could be quite advantageous...

By now all of this had happened almost a day earlier during which Andvari had been able to get rid of most of his sleep deprivation. Now he was left to wonder if his father's description of Witches' Paradise as an 'incredibly rough place' had actually been meant as an ironic way of saying 'Make getting there your first priority!' instead. While his limbs still felt somewhat sore from the extensive journey, Andvari felt well enough to find out. He had no idea about the recent events in Goldencrest and the impact it had on everyone else.

With a slight limp he trudged towards the place. The large sign was in plain sight, but so was that he once again would have to crouch in order to get in. Even before his hand was able to push the door open completely a surge of odours overwhelmed his nose: Smoke, roasted meat, sweat, but most dominantly alcohol of various kinds. He moved in, trying not to stare at any of the anonymous patrons while expecting the majority of them to stare at him. A slight, but noticeable surge of cold sweat ran down Andvari's spine as he realized that somebody in there might very well be old enough to have known his father. Would anyone theorize about him then ?

He picked up a stool and sat down carefully, trying to find out if the aged wood would actually support him. The next step was to politely ask for a beer. A small portion would have to suffice until he'd have been able to find out if the stuff here was actually worth the money - one could never know. While waiting for his request to be fulfilled Andvari could hardly do anything else than look around and see who else was here. He didn't know any of them.

Dark Streets - Urban Fantasy Noir

If Othen had been a magician whose spells became reality as he thought about them, Sadjic would have found himself nailed against the side window of his luxury sedan with the window lifter turned on in order to make the nails stuck in his flesh hurt even harder. What an nasty, arrogant, slimy scumbag! If the latter paid attention he would be able to see how the gargoyle's eyes narrowed almost to slits for a moment as a cold surge was silently hurling down along his back.

"Teleport ? I would consider that art to be seriously broken. And if I would still be willing to engage in such a lethal endeavour I'd probably not sit here and ask you for the favor to taking me to my place, would I ?"

There was a slight pause as Othen considered what to say next, weighing one possible answer against the others.

"Aside from this, even if I could teleport, how would I have been able to take that poor fellow resting in the pond along with me ? And everyone who has seen me at the scene will also have seen how I hopped into this beautiful car and drove off with you. Helping in a crime is a crime in itself, so I'd say that, at least to a considerable degree, my alibi is your alibi. Or vice versa if you want to replace 'alibi' with 'being suspected groundlessly'."

Then Othen turned his head, allowing himself a few moments of looking forwards out of the front window instead of sideways into Sadjic's face.

"I'd still be very eager to find out who the culprit is, now that we know that it is neither of us. Who'd have any interest in killing one of the leading wizards in this city. I mean... you have excellent connections I'd guess. You probably have access to information the cops don't have."

@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

An-Hasst let go of a sigh that was almost too calm to be heard by anyone, but still it was a slight indication of him being less than completely relaxed. It seemed than the party was less than fully confident about going on, so in his mind the Skayleigh was already prepared a tiny speech. Something along the lines of: I can only repeat myself: The fact that he just averted a possible threat to the village does not mean that it was the only one waiting for us. I do not avertise the idea that we go on a dedicated magical lizard hunt as that would work against the idea of a general patrol as well, but if anything the presence of this thing here is a clear indication that our job is worth it. We should not discontinue with any kind of 'we're done' feeling right now.

Yet as the Skayleigh was preparing to speak up he could hear hooves thudding on the soft ground. Calanon was carrying on, hopefully taking the remainder of his companion with him metaphorically. "The village we are doing this patrol for is merely a resting point in between on our own journey. We would have to strife through this forests and thus potentially wake up something that would better have been left sleeping anyway. I think we're even better off doing it now while we still have a village we can retreat to."

Fully convinced of himself, An-Hasst marched on, following Brogach's traces. He didn't omit though to turn and look behind himself after a bunch of yards in order to check if, and how, everyone else was still with him.

@Mortarion@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity@POOHEAD189@Stormflyx@The Fated Fallen

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

<Snipped quote by BCTheEntity>

I think she was asking who's foot it was? I find the best way to identify someone's foot is to stamp on it and see who cries out

@The Fated Fallen

I disagree. Take an umbrella, upgrade it's sharp upper end with a poison injection device, wait until it has rained, walk out using it as a cane, ACCIDENTALLY hit the foot with it very hard, then wait to see who dies some time later.

Totally not referring to real world events...

And I should post, too. Urgently. End of vacation and gaming have screwed up my routine. And I'm trying to find ideas to post.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari Markat

A N D V A R I M A R K A T

Age
21

Appearance
Andvari's not exactly a beanpole, but he isn't exceptionally muscular either. What's notable though is that he is no less than seven feet, eight inches of it due to the same condition his father had exhibited. He arrived at Seren's Folly in mere traveling clothes, but has brought his training equipment along with him.

Personality
While his life so far technically has been one half at the very bottom of things and the other half being close to the top of them, the former half appears to be the dominating one. He is by no means arrogant, but if allowed to speak he has a tendency to tell people very openly what he thinks, including curses and shit. His mind seems too calculating though to leave the border of the objective often. Education is a thing he could definitely improve in, but intelligence is there for sure. His approach to life is a rather light-hearted one that involves indulging himself in too much alcohol and stuff happily as long as he doesn't run out of money. Risks ? Bring 'em here, but not too many at a time!

History
Andvari, originally born under the surname Hymir, is the only son of his father Andri and his mother Oriel. The night was warm and calm, but the coming together of the two was anything but. Oriel was an incredibly rich noble living in a palace surrounded by gardens very well up to her standards. So was the number of guards, but still the lady later claimed that Andri had just 'appeared' in her bedroom and 'stabbed Rénard with a dagger right away' before disappearing again, none of her guards able to catch up to him. Half of the bed had been soaked with her poor husband's blood as his attacker had known very well where the heart is located at.

The truth she never told for her own sake is quite different though. Oriel had been increasingly unhappy with her relationship. Rénard had become old, a humble shadow of his former attractiveness and male glory. Also he had developed a bad temper, probably due to alcohol playing a more and more important role in his life. In short: She had been all too eager to get rid of him, but just divorcing was not an option since that would have exposed all of this to the public, creating a scandal other nobilities would feast upon with pleasure.

Yet there was a solution to this -- it came in at somewhere over seven feet and a surprising price tag: To spend a night with her in her bed. Whatever must have driven the man that was Andvari's father to the point that he'd ask for this instead of some coins was of very secondary concern to Oriel at that moment. She was very determined and honestly found himself rather charming to begin with. It couldn't be worse than yet another night with Rénard, could it ?

Things went according to plan, the only but no less important exception being that Andri actually knocked her up that night. He didn't notice it and neither could she until she could feel her belly grow. By the time Andvari was born Rénard had already rotten in his grave and the assassin hired for his disposal had traveled elsewhere. Now she had a child to deal with. Hardly a monetary issue for her, but very much so a societal. Not only was he a bastard child, but even more so could revealing his existence allow others to ask very unfortunate questions and to start backtracking things.

Oriel made him move away to another place, a village so poor nobody would think about any noble stepping a foot into. She indeed only did very few times so not to expose herself and allow him to accidentally tell somebody whom he was related to. Also she arranged for a name that was not related to any person really existing: 'Markat' is a product of fantasy, nothing else. Andvari became used to growing up to the servants she had dispatched in order to deal with him. In secrecy he spent his childhood in a golden cage with a few beams broken loose. Him growing up in an imporverished environment and not being able to enjoy her luxury made her heart ache a little, but on the other hand it could only help make people never believe that he had anything to do with her.

Nothing could prepare her carefully laid out plan for the sheer power of randomness though. One day Andri returned. He had no interest in meeting an old client of his, but was merely on his way through the area. Once they saw each other Andvari had no idea that this was his father, but Andri didn't take long to figure out that two giants in the same spot was a little too much for some random coincidence. With Andri having become aware of a mistake made over a decade earlier and being infuriated about how his old client had decided to handle things, Oriel was in for an unpleasant surprise.

He waited for the next event of high-society to happen in her extensive gardens, then dragged Andvari along with himself right to her doorstep. While everyone could see the obvious similarity between the two men and come to his or her own conclusions Oriel knew that just ordering her guards to drive them out would be a very dangerous move: At least the elderly of the two had a particular talent for coming back seemingly out of nowhere and to let go of his aggression. So she decided to deal with the situation otherwise before her reputation would be destroyed in a matter of minutes or even her very life would be at stake.

The solution was to hire both of them as servants, thereby effectively granting Andvari permanent access to both her and his father in a comparably privileged environment while still not telling the truth to anybody. Unfortunately that also exposed Andvari to his father's influence, the latter being all too glad to be able to tell stories about his past and to propagate his knowledge before he'd pass away some day. As Andri grew old and ultimately became ill it seemed that a great burden slowly let go of him. He never told his son what it was, but he warned him never to go to Seren's Folly.

Now what kind of a young adult being Andvari would be if he'd listen to each and every advice given ? It had been time to take a leave from the palace...

Signature weapon
A crossbow that seems to be worth more than the entire remainder of his equipment, if not even vastly exceeding that amount. It appears to be custom-made for him, at least a person smaller than him would encounter some difficulties in handling and rearming efficiently even though weight wouldn't be the issue. The shiny metal parts of it are definitely not gold, but aren't brass or steel either. It is unclear what it is truly comprised off. All he knows is that it's a piece left over by his father and that it is excellent at piercing into or just outright ripping through stuff, perferably organic.

Image

Combat
Acolyte

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

A N D V A R I M A R K A T

Age
21

Appearance
Andvari's not exactly a beanpole, but he isn't exceptionally muscular either. What's notable though is that he is no less than seven feet, eight inches of it due to the same condition his father had exhibited. He arrived at Seren's Folly in mere traveling clothes, but has brought his training equipment along with him.

Personality
While his life so far technically has been one half at the very bottom of things and the other half being close to the top of them, the former half appears to be the dominating one. He is by no means arrogant, but if allowed to speak he has a tendency to tell people very openly what he thinks, including curses and shit. His mind seems too calculating though to leave the border of the objective often. Education is a thing he could definitely improve in, but intelligence is there for sure. His approach to life is a rather light-hearted one that involves indulging himself in too much alcohol and stuff happily as long as he doesn't run out of money. Risks ? Bring 'em here, but not too many at a time!

History
Andvari, originally born under the surname Hymir, is the only son of his father Andri and his mother Oriel. The night was warm and calm, but the coming together of the two was anything but. Oriel was an incredibly rich noble living in a palace surrounded by gardens very well up to her standards. So was the number of guards, but still the lady later claimed that Andri had just 'appeared' in her bedroom and 'stabbed Rénard with a dagger right away' before disappearing again, none of her guards able to catch up to him. Half of the bed had been soaked with her poor husband's blood as his attacker had known very well where the heart is located at.

The truth she never told for her own sake is quite different though. Oriel had been increasingly unhappy with her relationship. Rénard had become old, a humble shadow of his former attractiveness and male glory. Also he had developed a bad temper, probably due to alcohol playing a more and more important role in his life. In short: She had been all too eager to get rid of him, but just divorcing was not an option since that would have exposed all of this to the public, creating a scandal other nobilities would feast upon with pleasure.

Yet there was a solution to this -- it came in at somewhere over seven feet and a surprising price tag: To spend a night with her in her bed. Whatever must have driven the man that was Andvari's father to the point that he'd ask for this instead of some coins was of very secondary concern to Oriel at that moment. She was very determined and honestly found himself rather charming to begin with. It couldn't be worse than yet another night with Rénard, could it ?

Things went according to plan, the only but no less important exception being that Andri actually knocked her up that night. He didn't notice it and neither could she until she could feel her belly grow. By the time Andvari was born Rénard had already rotten in his grave and the assassin hired for his disposal had traveled elsewhere. Now she had a child to deal with. Hardly a monetary issue for her, but very much so a societal. Not only was he a bastard child, but even more so could revealing his existence allow others to ask very unfortunate questions and to start backtracking things.

Oriel made him move away to another place, a village so poor nobody would think about any noble stepping a foot into. She indeed only did very few times so not to expose herself and allow him to accidentally tell somebody whom he was related to. Also she arranged for a name that was not related to any person really existing: 'Markat' is a product of fantasy, nothing else. Andvari became used to growing up to the servants she had dispatched in order to deal with him. In secrecy he spent his childhood in a golden cage with a few beams broken loose. Him growing up in an imporverished environment and not being able to enjoy her luxury made her heart ache a little, but on the other hand it could only help make people never believe that he had anything to do with her.

Nothing could prepare her carefully laid out plan for the sheer power of randomness though. One day Andri returned. He had no interest in meeting an old client of his, but was merely on his way through the area. Once they saw each other Andvari had no idea that this was his father, but Andri didn't take long to figure out that two giants in the same spot was a little too much for some random coincidence. With Andri having become aware of a mistake made over a decade earlier and being infuriated about how his old client had decided to handle things, Oriel was in for an unpleasant surprise.

He waited for the next event of high-society to happen in her extensive gardens, then dragged Andvari along with himself right to her doorstep. While everyone could see the obvious similarity between the two men and come to his or her own conclusions Oriel knew that just ordering her guards to drive them out would be a very dangerous move: At least the elderly of the two had a particular talent for coming back seemingly out of nowhere and to let go of his aggression. So she decided to deal with the situation otherwise before her reputation would be destroyed in a matter of minutes or even her very life would be at stake.

The solution was to hire both of them as servants, thereby effectively granting Andvari permanent access to both her and his father in a comparably privileged environment while still not telling the truth to anybody. Unfortunately that also exposed Andvari to his father's influence, the latter being all too glad to be able to tell stories about his past and to propagate his knowledge before he'd pass away some day. As Andri grew old and ultimately became ill it seemed that a great burden slowly let go of him. He never told his son what it was, but he warned him never to go to Seren's Folly.

Now what kind of a young adult being Andvari would be if he'd listen to each and every advice given ? It had been time to take a leave from the palace...

Signature weapon
A crossbow that seems to be worth more than the entire remainder of his equipment, if not even vastly exceeding that amount. It appears to be custom-made for him, at least a person smaller than him would encounter some difficulties in handling and rearming efficiently even though weight wouldn't be the issue. The shiny metal parts of it are definitely not gold, but aren't brass or steel either. It is unclear what it is truly comprised off. All he knows is that it's a piece left over by his father and that it is excellent at piercing into or just outright ripping through stuff, perferably organic.

Image

Combat
Acolyte

Santa Celia: Coast to Coast

L A Z A R U S

_{Location(s): Casino Plaza
Interaction(s) with: None}

---

An important notification to our passengers: We have just been informed by our control center that Downtown Station will no longer be available for service until further notice. This decision has been made for the safety of you and other passengers. We politely request for everyone to leave this train at Casino Plaza Station and to use other means of transport as it will return to the depot. Thank you for your attention.

How great! was the first thing to shoot through Rókur's mind. Couldn't he have thought of the possibility of this happening earlier ? As far as he was aware of Santa Celia's layout Casino Plaza was at least three miles away from true Downtown! Not that he'd have been afraid of running, but it would comsume such a horrible amount of time. Grudgingly the giant viking could do nothing but to wait for the monorail to reach the new endpoint of its current journey while the train became almost empty way before that. It appeared that most people had not chosen Downtown as their destination in the first place. Now that the connection to any station beyond that had been cut off on this route they had to search for other ways to get there.

Walking down the steps leading to street level, the strangely colored rain still kept falling to a more or less mild degree. People were moving fast and suspiciously close to the walls of buildings where protruding roofs of shops and businesses could be found in abundance. They took the public warning quite seriously it seemed, making Rókur's own appearance just a bit more awkward. Not that he'd bother...

His phone vibrated, revealing to his eyes the response he had been waiting for:

Kayla: Where are you? Wherever you are, dont move. We’re coming to you.

Rókur looked around. Was there any good place that would both spare him from becoming completely drenched in the crimson rain until their arrival while also exposing himself sufficiently to anyone driving on the road so they wouldn't just move past him accidentally ? There was a massive collection of public benches available, normally crowded since people loved to enjoy the trees having been planted here, but right now completely devoid of any human being since they had no roofs. Also there was a bus stop, but it had already run out of capacity since many had switched from the monorail not only here.

The only choice left was to move close to the buildings and under one of aforementioned, protruding shelters. An excellent move to make people unhappy who had to go around him and expose themselves, though only very briefly, to the rain while also slowing them down a little. Fortunately he didn't look exactly like somebody who could be pushed around easily. Rókur took his phone and typed in a hurried response:

Casino Plaza. Will be hard to miss me I guess.

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

"Stay where you are, please." was Týfurkh's fastest reaction to Karina's questioning. The long haired man moved towards another place a little further away, then turned around to look at the woman as directly as one could possibly do. His lips started to move and she would immediately start to hear something: "Can you hear me ? Please nod, don't talk. And watch the others while I continue speaking."

Now Týfurkh's voice became considerably louder: "Chres ? If you hear me than raise your hand, please!" However he had arranged for Chres not to be in the path of the directed waves emanating from his throat, causing the man to find himself unable to notice this request unless he'd use some kind of magic himself. Only Karina could listen to him right now as he patiently waited for Chres' reaction.

"As you can see nothing has happened, but you can still hear me. Unfortunately so could everyone standing in the line defined by you and me. That's why I need to get high up in order to be sure the cult won't be able to pick up the message as well. And any obstacles in the way would force me to shout even louder than I'll already have to in order to reach somebody across the city walls. I'll likely be very tired after our little endeavour, so please take care of me."

Týfurkh stopped his magic and continued to talk normally so everybody could listen again: "I've studied the Art Of Canor, a special kind of magic commonly found in the Nation Of Hearing. There are many different aspects to it and I can't command all of them, not even in the slightest. I do have a few tricks of my own though. Do you understand now ?" The giant man put up a slight, somewhat shy smile.

The Lost Heir and the Wandering Nation

Same goes for me.

Santa Celia: Coast to Coast

L A Z A R U S

_{Location(s): Argyle street, Rókur's apartment. Departing towards downtown at the end.
Interaction(s) with: None}

---

And we now have live footage from our BREAKING NEWS chopper. As you can see there is still a massive column of black smoke obstrucing the aerial view onto the downtown of Santa Celia, fed by large builings ablaze beneath it. It is raining, but the water from above -- if you would like to call the strangely violet substance such -- does not seem to impress it at all at this point. It might come in as a shock for many of our viewers, but it is very likely that our city has been struck by a double catastrophe: Firefighters and emergency services have just started to scour through the carnage, but we are receiving reports that a large tanker truck has been found either to have crashed into or to have at least exploded in front of the Chateau Rouge, a high-prized restaurant in the area. The precise nature of its cargo has not yet been identified, but according to witness accounts it is safe to assume that it is chemical and likely responsible for the strange rain phenomenon the city is currently faced with. What's even more important at this point though is that the mayor, Samson Murray, is said to have been present at the Chateau Rouge this night. It is currently unclear if he has left the building in time and how many another people survived the blast. We will keep you up to date all through the night, the regular program has been canceled.

Old Milton's didn't provide the luxury of a flat-screen TV for every of its inhabitants already included in the rental, but it did offer a public lounge where people could play at the football table, billiards or just stare at a large screen embedded in the wall and protected by a thick glass pane mounted in front of it. Rókur was standing at the rear end of the room and silently participated in the general tumult that had befallen the city. A general advisory not to expose oneself or any pets to the current rain had been called out, but it wouldn't have needed that to wipe everyone off the streets. It seemed as if pretty much everyone was watching in horror what was going on a few miles away in downtown.

Well... not everyone. From Rókur's private perspective he had seen far worse losses of life until barely a year ago -- and those 'media' of today even appeared to spare their customers the majority of the bloody, gory details. Overall it was safe to say that he felt emotionally quite detached, even to the point where someone started to look at him in astonishment with his oversized, goliath-like physique not being the reason for it. He should probably leave and re-evaluate the situation from his own chambers...

With Jasper having been gone for at least a few hours there was no indication that anything strange ever had happened in said rooms, at least for the average observer. Any more experienced detective however wouldn't have taken long to find out intriguing details casting severe doubts onto this initial conclusion: The fridge, while present, had apparently not been in use in a long time. Neither had been the shower or the toilet. The bed and couch on the other hand had become saggy like hell and the heating was on to a very mild degree. Someone apparently lived here, but he or she didn't seem to be interested in many things of daily life and even including some of the most essential ones.

Rókur pushed up the sliding window and stuck his head out, looking down at the streets below. He could see the circular waves spreading on the thin layer of water before one of the droplets hit the back of his head. By stretching out his hand the viking obtained a sample, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger before approaching it with his nose. The ultimate test was to put the liquid into his mouth -- regret following in an instant. That stuff tasted bad! If something had been in his stomach it probably would have protested violently, but this way it was a mere, but no less substantial cramp. At least for him. There simply wasn't anything left in his body to mutate for a chemical substance, be it reddish and tasting like foul shit or not. So even if the vast majority of Santa Celia had not been sharing its utter unawareness of the rain's special properties with him, the incredibly old and yet still young Rókur would not have had much of a reason to hold back. Accidental death was a tragedy, yes. Unsatisfied curiosity however was a thing, too.

Rókur slammed the window shut, turned around and started to collect what he'd need for a little... excursion. Yet as he was about to pick up his mobile phone again he noticed the two photographs right next to it. Yeah.. there was another thing he'd have to deal with. But wouldn't those Fosters be interested in the events currently going on as well, given that they tried to keep up order in the city ?

The tiny phone twisted helplessly in his pale, colossal hand. It didn't have a front camera, so all that Rókur could do was to make a helplessly misaligned selfie while not being able to watch the screen. Half of the picture put the shabby ceiling onto display while the other half -- luckily -- actually showed the major portion of his face and how his hairs were already scratching along the upper limit of his room. That had to suffice. Rókur turned the phone around again, typed in some text and sent it along with the image:

Kyle ? Kayla ? Rokur here... I'm in contact with Jasper and he requested me to stay in touch with you since he'll be busy for a while. Does this and me telling you that he's a friend of Crane's qualify me enough for you not to shoot me down right away ? I'm going to Downtown. Want to take a look at things out of curiosity. If you're there as well maybe we could meet up ? Otherwise some other day... Don't worry!

Having spent an awful amount of time on typing for the sake of correctness, Rókur felt the need to hurry up. He had already lost one shirt in the monorail, so hopefully people wouldn't mind too much if he'd go in what he was currently wearing...