Helo

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider, railing near the bar area
Interactions:None (but feel free to witness what he’s up to)
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 97
Injuries: New injuries; concussion, fractured ribs, giant splinter in his leg, injured shoulder, all bruised up. Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

"This is Captain Cindralis. The situation is… less than ideal. Most systems are compromised, and the harsh truth is that there’s no riding this out, not this far from Breland."

The announcement did not come as a surprise to Ezekiel, he’d picked up that much from his time with Scratch and Val. He’d made his way to the medbay shortly after finishing up with the surgeon/engineer and his leg was almost finished being patched up. Hands more talented than his, had taken care of the majority of his injuries as best they could and all that was left was to let time finish their work.

"I’m initiating emergency descent protocol. Closest survivable option is the Lhazaar Principalities. Not a choice I make lightly. But it’s that or drift until we burn out."

He knew Scratch was doing his best to ensure their landing was as safe and smooth as possible. The passengers' lives were all in his capable hands, and Ezekiel held no doubt that they’d ensure the best possible outcome given the circumstances. The only thing for the paladin to do in the meantime was take care of himself, recoup his strength and mana, so that he could be of optimal use after what would be a difficult landing.

And after that. Landing in the Lhazaar Principalities, that absolute den of villainy and debauchery, he’d need to keep his wits about him. Needed to be on top of his game.

The Lhazaar Principalities…on second thought, maybe those lawless lands weren’t the worst option.

A medic attempted to stop him from leaving, surely medbay was one of the safest places to ride out the landing.

But there was no stopping Ezekiel’s trajectory now. His mind had been set since the second he’d spotted that necromancer on board.

And he highly doubted anyone from The Lhazaar Principalities would investigate any deaths on board too closely.

"All hands, brace for descent. The Stormrider is coming in hard...find a seat or a rail and hold tight. Medical attention will be standing by once we’re grounded. Stay clear of the cargo hold and let the crew do their job. This isn’t over yet."

Ezekiel limped his way around the perimeter of the ship, his focus as sharp as it had been within the cargo hold.

The ship lurched and dropped. His balance did not falter.

Finally, Ezekiel spotted the necromancer, one deceptively frail hand wrapped around the rail as he looked entirely unbothered by the entire ordeal.

It took no great leap of imagination to wonder if he was enjoying all this.

He remembered exactly what men like him were like during the war.


The rain fell hard. Droplets smacked against armor. Boots splashed against mud. As the sun began to fade, the scent of too much blood filled the air. Mixed with that fresh rain scent and turned it into something stomach churning.

They followed the orders of a man who listened to his heart more than his head. They checked the decimated village for any sign of survivors, but found only the dead.

Too many Cryans with slit throats.

Slaughtered like animals.

Men, women, children. And not a warrior among them.

Not that such a thing mattered to Karrns.

For a few seconds hope stirred. A few of the bodies moved - showed signs of life.

The dead rose up, fought with impossible strength. Their faces weren’t the enemy but the very people Ezekiel and his fellow soldiers fought to protect. Few made it out alive.

They were neither the first, nor the last, group to find themselves surrounded by a village of reanimated dead. A grotesquely cruel trap laid out by necromancers.

There would come a time in the war when Cryan’s would burn their dead on sight. When they torched such sites to ashes before even checking for survivors. Once they realized how willing Karrnath was to turn inclinations of compassion and mercy into weaknesses.

Ezekiel was not going to find himself trapped on a crashed airship surrounded by undead. He limped forward, made his way to a spot just behind the necromancer with a handful of other people spaced out around them. All gripping the railing like the lifeline it was, all focus on their own survival as chaos erupted around them.

He could see only a handful of people lingering near the bar, they appeared to be focused on helping the wounded there.

It was as good an opportunity as he was going to get.

The ship rattled and dropped once more. Ezekiel hand shot out, gripped the old man by the shoulder and spun him around to face him. Lightning sparked from inside the ship. They veered hard to the left.

A flash of flame shot out from one of the engines. The people around them screamed as most turned their attention to the fire and the ever approaching islands as the ship began to fall.

From the corner of his eye, Ezekiel could’ve sworn he saw a silver gleam to the flame - a sign of divine blessing. In an instant both hands gripped the necromancer's face as the paladin stared deep into the other man's cold, empty eyes.

“This, is for Cyre.” He whispered and acted without a second of hesitation. The sounds of screeching metal as the ship crashed covered up the sound of a brittle neck snapping without resistance. The body of the necromancer tumbled off the side of the airship.

It only took a couple seconds. No one around him seemed to notice anything more than an old man falling overboard as the ship crashed. If they even saw that much through the ash and mists that surrounded them.

Either it had truly been an act of divine intervention aiding him, or that had been far too easy.

A grim feeling in the pit of his stomach made him believe it was the latter. But it didn’t matter. Either way the necromancer was dead, the war may be long over but retribution had come from the necromancer nonetheless. Those who had fallen upon the Stormrider would not be forced to rise again.

It was a righteous kill. He felt not a tinge of regret.

"This is Cindralis. We made it. All passengers report to the main deck. Watch your step...we’re in one piece, but only barely. We’ll assess the damage once we’re sure no one’s dying. Stormrider out."

Ezekiel headed to the main deck to offer to help any who had been wounded during the landing or the battle that had preceded it.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Drake @Lava Alckon, Ari @Tpartywithzombi, Thea @Tae, Hala @JJ Doe

---

“Almost like you’re not Callum Danrose.”

The same slow, deep chuckle that had followed Hala’s other snappy response followed this one as well. The same amused spark flickered in his eyes and every bit of his posture remained as relaxed and unbothered as it had from the start of the banquet. As the accusation hung in the air, it was Ari, and not himself, who shot it down first.

“it’s bold to talk like you know him when you’ve barely been in the same room for more than a few hours, let alone held a conversation considering I believe this is your first time speaking with him.”

Loyalty. A glow he was more than happy to bask in even if the display was clearly for Callum rather than the spirit who wore his form.

“Almost like people love to spread rumors and exaggerate the actions of a child who has since grown up. People are not static...” Clarence replied once Ari had finished speaking, and his hands lifted as shoulders shrugged off the concern. “...I, certainly, am not.” His words were calm and practical, Hala was not a threat. The situation was exactly as Ariella had outlined; Hala did not know him in any capacity, they simply tossed out baseless suspicions. If he had to guess they were simply intuitive, maybe even another witch, but not a threat.

In fact, Hala might even enjoy the chaos that was about to rain down upon the Caesonian court.

“I think we have been gone far too long now.” Ariella spoke again soon after Hala had returned to the dinning hall. As she took a step forward, her brief drunken stumble did not go unnoticed. Clarence extended an arm without a word, offering her something steady to hold on to. It was the correct optics for him, to waltz back into the hall looking both regal and chivalrous, and dutifully leading a pair of stragglers back to the banquet.

Drake greeted with a sense of urgency as they rounded a corner. Clarence only smiled back at him, studied him, and waited for the man to say what was truly on his mind.

”There is a new guest in the banquet hall. A silver haired man came in with chains wrapped around a woman…It’s Geneveieve. From my birthday celebration. He claims she has dealt in magic, and wishes to make an example of anyone who would do such a heinous thing in this day and age.”

How disappointing. Things had finally gotten truly interesting inside the dining hall just after he’d stepped out for only a few moments. Drake went on to explain how poorly this development would reflect upon the Edwards family.

”He has taken a seat near Lord Smithwood. I wanted to acquaint you all with the situation because…it has certainly grown tense in there. You could cut the air with a knife. Knowing this, would you all like to return to the banquet hall? I can accompany you if that would help.”

“Not returning to the banquet hall would certainly appear suspicious given the circumstances. First your family’s servant has been caught indulging in forbidden arts, then your sister and her friends flee the banquet?” He shook his head at Drake. “Some might spin that into another scandal, and we have nothing to fear.” He continued with complete confidence as he spoke.

“And neither you, nor your family, should be expected to shoulder the blame for a single, treacherous, servant. I will do all I can to make sure my family sees the logic in that.” He added, reaching out and placing a hand on Drake’s shoulder. He kept his eyes focused on the other man, saying what his words wouldn’t dare say aloud. He would keep Ari safe from witch hunters. “Nothing to fear.” He repeated with the same easy confidence.

Clarence honored his bargains, and Callum’s allies were his allies now.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Engine Control Room/Scratch’s Quarters
Interactions:Scratch & Val @Apex Sunburn,
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 97
Injuries: New injuries; concussion, fractured ribs, giant splinter in his leg, injured shoulder, all bruised up. Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

“You need to be careful with Venn, especially with her head. Last thing she needs is a skull fracture on top of everything that’s already wrong with her. But don’t be slow. Stormrider’s not going to wait for us. It doesn’t have that sort of time, I think.”

“Of course.” Ezekiel replied to Scratch as he once again lifted Venn’s fragile form and kept her head resting against his shoulder. He wondered if perhaps Scratch spent little time conversing with other adults or if the elf thought Ezekiel was planning to use Venn’s head to check for weak points in the walls. He guessed it was the former.

Scratch then followed up his statement with a question about the shard of crystal and before Ezekiel could answer, Val spoke up.

“I think it looks cool,” Ezekiel’s eyebrow lifted just slightly in surprise. He’d figured he had long since aged out of the years where he could still be considered “cool” by the youths of the next generation. Even though he had nothing to do with the piece of crystal that had lodged itself in his socket, he was taking the complement for the rare boon that it was nonetheless. He offered a solemn nod of thanks in return.

“U-Unless it hurts, Eyepatch, then it’s not that cool anymore.”

“It does not hurt.” Or if it did, it wasn’t bad enough to be noticed amongst his other injuries. Based on how Scratch and Val both acted, he assumed their shards had not inflicted any notable pain either. “I imagine it feels like yours, and Scratch’s; strange and difficult not to notice, but not painful.” A sharp contrast to the jagged wooden shrapnel still lodged in his leg which was entirely unpleasant but not a problem that needed mentioning to the child. Even if she was a surgeon’s assistant.

He kept up with Scratch’s pace and the conversation between the elf and his young assistant faded into background noise. His attention shifted back to the crystal and its unfamiliar magic but his attempts to focus in on magic’s intents proved fruitless. It was deeply concerning that the shards' appearance had coincided with the attack by the red hooded figures; the connection between the two events inspired an ominous feeling. Ezekiel was simply left to worry that they had been infected by something malevolent and corrupting.

“One, don’t touch anything without my permission. If you’re not sure about anything, ask me. If I’m busy, ask Val. Two, in there, I’ve the final word. If I tell you to stop, you stop. If I tell you to do something, you do it. If I tell you to run, you run. That goes for you as well, Venn. The rest of this ship’s yours, but this part of it is mine. Just want to make sure that’s clear. Three, and most importantly, it’s cramped in there, so watch where you put yourself. I don’t want any buttons pressed, or levers pushed, or switches flipped by accident.”

“Touch nothing and follow your lead.” Ezekiel repeated back the instructions to indicate he understood. Then he followed the other two into the engine control room and ducked his head beneath the shallow doorway. He sincerely doubted he’d be tempted to push random buttons or mess with any of the ships control without any knowledge of how the airship ran, such an impulse seemed a recipe for disaster anyhow. He did however wonder what good running would do in the event that the airship was either about to crash or explode, not that he particularly felt up to anything more than a brisk walk at the moment.

“Eyepatch, take Venn to my quarters–” Ezekiel’s eye followed to the curtain veiled archway Scratch pointed out.

“–and do what you can for her wounds. You can place her on my bunk, and use whatever you find. I’ve some medical supplies in there. They’re not hard to find, just rummage around. It’s already a mess, so don’t worry about making it a bigger one.”

Scratch then handed Venn a faintly glowing battery and the injured crew member kept hold of it.
“I don’t know if you can pull power from one of these, but if you can, use it. I don’t need you passing out as well. If you can’t though…Keep it anyway. It might come in handy, some time, and I’m already up to my eyeballs in arcane batteries as it is.”

“I’ll do what I can. May the Flame light your path and the Gods guide your hands.” He said, wishing Scratch and Val luck as they went to work attempting to correct the disturbance with the airship. Ezekiel then disappeared behind the curtain into Scratch’s quarters.

He laid Venn down on the bunk and briefly rested his fingers on her neck, checking her pulse as he glanced around the room. Scratch was neither kidding nor exaggerating about the mess and the paladin could only wonder how the other man ever managed to find anything in this room. As he looked around for various medical supplies he often had to stop himself from organizing the abundance of clutter that littered the elf’s quarters.

Ezekiel set to work cleaning and dressing Venn’s injuries and filling the silence with open-ended questions meant to keep Venn focused on talking. Keeping her awake and as alert as possible as he worked. Once he had done all he could for Venn he cleaned and bandaged as many of his own injuries as he could while continuing to converse with Venn. He debated on the risk of removing the jagged chunk of wood from his leg, but without knowing what other challenges they might also have to face next, now seemed as good a time as any.

He thanked the holy flame that he did not begin to bleed out as he pulled the largest bit of shrapnel from his flesh. If the ship didn’t explode, or fall out of the skies, he’d have one of the doctors at medbay take a look at it, but for now he fixed it up as best he could and then focused on trying to tap into the arcane battery Scratch had handed Venn. He could vaguely hear Scratch and Val shouting out strings of numbers back and forth.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Location: Sundown Row - The Pink Room • Time: Night

Interactions: Wren @Tpartywithzombi, Locke @Oso• Mentions: Angel

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

“Oh how I’ve missed you, Noah.”

He couldn’t not laugh at that. A deep rumble that bubbled out when stirred by the irony of such a statement. Locke sitting across from him, pretending like he wasn’t the one who turned his back on Noah in the first place.

“And it’s a real shame you never knew where to find me.” Came a flippant reply that was intentionally unbothered. It wasn’t as if Noah was the one who disappeared into the night. Wren’s fingers softly dug into his shirt and his arms tightened around her in response. That distant look spread across her face as she partially disappeared into wherever it was she went when she saw and heard things that only she could. Noah’s eyes stayed focused on her even as he listened to the rest of what Locke had to say.

“And it’s sweet, really… the way you pretend this is about her,”

Locke thought he knew something. He pretended like he understood something he couldn’t even begin to grasp. This was as much about Angel as it was about Noah. The separation between the twins was only an illusion, their bond something deeper than just family. Noah and Angel shared not only blood, but had once navigated the waters of the womb together, their minds were connected.

And they were never meant to be separated. It felt all wrong, like the loss of a limb. His other half. Locke couldn’t even begin to fathom what that meant.

“But you and I both know who you’re really trying to prove somethin’ to, little brother.”

“I’ve long since proven myself.” Noah didn’t bother with a glance in the man’s direction. The accusation hidden his words, that this was somehow about earning favor with Magnus, bored him. He was his sire’s right hand, trusted and effortlessly loyal, Noah proved himself at any given opportunity without needing to think about it. It was as natural as feeding had become.

Instead of watching Locke, Noah remained captivated by Wren’s movements as her hands reached up towards empty air and her fingers danced through flickering neon lights. His grip held her close and steady until she floated back into the present.

“Angel never did well in cages…”

“Don’t be dramatic…” Noah rolled his eyes.

“Especially not the ones your father builds… Respectfully, of course.”

“Being given power and everything else you could possibly desire is not a cage, Locke, it is a privilege. A few responsibilities…a few expectations, it’s all a small price to pay for it. This is not a jailbreak, Lucky, this is a teenage rebellion that has gone on far longer than it should.” He glanced back at Locke, spoke in a tone both serious and exasperated.

“Pet, do you feel like we live in a cage?” He asked Wren, fingers absentmindedly stoking her arm. If anyone had the genuine authority to speak on the matter it would be her.

“I’ll find her for you. I’ll even give you the family discount…But if she don’t wanna come back...” Locke paused, his silence drawn out, filling the air around them. “...what then, brother?”

As Locke attempted to pull the tension tight and Noah snapped it back with an immediate answer. “Then I’ll peel her skin off bit by bit until she sees reason.” There was no emotion in his voice and a blank but hard expression on his face. He kept his eyes locked on the man across from him and didn’t so much as blink as a handful of seconds passed.

Then he laughed. Wild and unhinged.

“I’m kidding. Of course.” A grin spread across his face.

“We’ll deal with our family issues privately. Your job is to find her and bring her home safe and sound. And that’s where your job ends. You’ll go back to your empty home and brood over a glass of whiskey, pockets a little heavier than before, and hopefully our paths won’t need to cross again.” Noah explained, his words stiff and unyielding. He laid out his expectations and left no room to negotiate them into anything other than exactly what he wanted.

“And you’ll stop calling me brother without earning the right to that word.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: Drake @Lava Alckon, Killian @Oso
Mentions: Thea, Ari, Gideon,
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”

---

”From what I’ve observed thus far - it seems public scrutiny from one's own is something you too wrestle with as well.”

“Wrestle with? Nothing quite that dramatic. My mother sets high expectations, and knowing that someone only sees the best possible version of myself inspires me to rise to those standards.” Leo’s response was as polished as it was sincere, and his practiced, easy smile only vanished when he took a sip of wine. His mother had her flaws, everyone did, but he wouldn’t be discussing those over dinner.

“But Thea…” He shrugged. “I think a different parenting style would’ve suited her better.” He brought another bite of food to his mouth and paused while he chewed. It was obvious enough that their mother gave Thea a lot less leeway than she gave him. “And I think a lot of mothers are a bit more overprotective of their youngest.” He added.

”Should we perhaps check on the ladies?” Drake asked and Leo was about to disagree. He preferred to let Thea have her space as well as the chance to bond with Ariella, when a man entered the feast with the sound of a heavy iron chain rattling against marble announcing his presence. Queen Alibeth addressed the man, Killian, whose gaze was as sharp as his cheek bones.

“Allow me to clarify. The woman you see before you has been apprehended under my directive. She was responsible for tampering with the refreshments at the Edwards’ recent gathering—a calculated act designed to sow chaos and bring harm to our noble class.”

“You should. Might be best that they not miss this.” Leo whispered to Drake and noted that Gideon looked deeply disturbed by the new development. Understandable, he imagined it was deeply embarrassing to have one’s own servant be responsible for such treachery. Another instance of tampered drinks brought to mind the parties Marek threw and Leo wondered if this servant was one of Marek’s minions.

“This once great city has become afflicted by the corruption of Magicae. I have come here, along with my companions from the Vanguard, to cut that rot from the wound in this city and to cleanse it. We are here to heal the wounds of corruption left in the wake of the arcane. I will rescue you from the maw of abomination.”

Leo’s smile widened as Killian spoke. Finally, someone competent was here to take Sorian’s witchcraft problem seriously. Once the witch hunter had finished speaking, Leo gave a light offering of applause to the man’s well-spoken words. He turned to Killian, who had taken the empty seat next to Leo and gave the man a nod of respect.

“Sir Killian, it’s an honor to share a table with you. I don’t wish to dampen your enjoyment of the feast so if you have time later I would like to discuss my own concerning experiences with the sorcery that plagues this city.” He said once Killian had finished greeting the canine companion of another woman at the table.

“Lord Leo Smithwood, heir of Stravy.” He introduced himself as he extended a hand to Killian.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall -- Outside
Mentions: Stratya, Hala, Killian
Attire: Red like the other cool kids

---

“I’m on it!” Rohit replied to Stratya as the knight suggested he find Hala and return Nadim to them. Without further hesitation he beckoned the large dog to follow him for the walk he’d promised. Behind him, a pair of servants followed, ready to ensure that Nadim didn’t leave a mess behind in the royal gardens. Just as Rohit was about to make his exit from the dining hall and man entered from another part of the room dragging a chain behind him.

He paused, lingered in the doorway just long enough to see what was going on now. He half expected some trained magnificent beast to be on the other end of the chain, some lighthearted entertainment to cut through the heavy drama that had filled the room. Instead the man, Killian, pulled a chained woman - apparently an accused criminal - into the banquet hall. The pleased look on both of Caesonia’s monarchs told him that this was a planned development and as he listened further he wondered how spiked drinks could be such a horrendous crime. After all, the crown prince here had specifically warned Rohit at that party that those drinks were dangerously potent. It seemed an open secret at that birthday event that the drinks were spiked.

Rohit grew bored halfway through Killian’s speech and clicked his tongue at Nadim who responded by following him outside the hall. The torment and degradation of the accused was far from his idea of dinner entertainment and he doubted the free range pup liked watching anyone dragged around by a chain either. The one brightside, maybe the debased dinner show would improve Hafiz’s mood a bit and make the Grand Vizier a little less insufferable. Rohit and the dog exited the palace through one of the side doors and Nadim, though still well mannered and behaved, exploded into a happy sprint that involved a lot of running around in circles.

Nadim frocked through the palace grounds. Every flower, tree, hedge, and blade of grass was thoroughly inspected and sniffed. A whole new land, everything in it likely held a variety of new and exciting scents for the canine to discover and Nadim’s joy at this discovery was undeniable. The pair of servants scampered after the dog, ensuring no diplomatic incidents could arise from royal boots stumbling into the deposits of a large dog. Rohit used his brief break outdoors to indulge in smoke beneath the night’s sky.

A moment of peace, just outside the storm of chaos that brewed inside the palace. Rohit’s eyes shifted between keeping watch over Nadim and gazing up at the moon. He absentmindedly spin the gold and jade ring around his finger, and his feet went wherever it was the canine wanted to go. Then they slowly wandered back towards the palace and both he, and likely Nadim as well, thought about the food left to try back inside.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Ari @Tpartywithzombi, Thea @Tae, Hala @JJ Doe

---

His head tilted as his smile widened. “Ruined her dress and sent her fleeing into the night.” The creature occasionally known as Clarence elegantly outstretched an arm and flicked his fingers, miming the haste with which Victoria had scampered off. He chuckled as he added, “And did you see the look of her face as she fled? Delightful. A serving of just desserts for the wretched Duchess.” His shoulders shimmied as his arm dropped back down to his side. It had been the first sampling of the night’s chaos, as a carefully assembled feast soured into a series of scandals.

HIs attention flicked to the stranger, Hala, who had ignored his greeting to argue with Thea. The pair attempted to wound only with words in the manner that this age of humans had grown so fond of, pretending that it was more civilized than answering such a challenge with violence. It was only less effective, less final, and far less fun to watch.

“Bitter that your efforts to convince the prosaic St. Claire to suck at your wounds have been fruitless?” He asked Hala, watching as their hand slipped into their flowing collection of silks. “Petting yourself to the sound of your own voice? I guess that’s one way to love yourself.” Clarence added as his smirk worked its way into his voice.

He nodded at Thea who suggested returning to the feast. “Time to see what dear old dad had in mind for the finale to his disastrous feast.” He glanced at Ari and then towards the doors, time to find out what that new tension in the air was all about.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Location: Sundown Row - The Pink Room • Time: Dusk

Interactions: Wren @Tpartywithzombi, Locke @Oso• Mentions: Luther

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Once.

Twice.

“Then let’s talk, brother”

Three times now, Locke had referred to him as a brother. All while he stayed seated, offered no handshake, and fidgeted with a deck of cards. The Fae, it seemed, couldn’t even be bothered to present the illusion of respect. And after Noah had started this meeting off by sending Locke a gift.

“Brother? Hardly.” With a grin that was anything but friendly, Noah slid into his seat across from Locke. “I’m not lookin’ for a brother, I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by more than enough family.” Noah’s grin twisted further, his words carefully chosen to emphasize that he had something Locke had lost. The sincerity with which he said his words might’ve even driven that knife in deeper.

Noah’s idea of family extended past Mangus and the inner circle, and included every vampire that served their organization. All of them tied together by an unshakable loyalty. Rumor had it that Locke had no one. A fitting fate for one who had once turned his back on his childhood friends.

“But I am looking for someone. An Angel that flew away, got herself lost in the big bad city, and that’s where you come in.” He drummed his fingers against a table and allowed the weight of his request to settle between them. Noah was more than willing to bet that while the friendship between him and Locke had rotted away long ago, Locke’s fondness for Angel was the sort that still lingered.

“I’m sure you can see why I’d be concerned. Our father has enemies, the kind that would love to get back at a man they can’t touch, by getting their hands on his lost daughter.” Noah laid out his concern; how dangerous it was for Angel to be off, alone and unprotected, in a city like Halcyon, where supernatural enemies and vengeful warden’s lurked around every corner.

“And I come to you, not just because of all your rave reviews, but I remember how your eyes used to linger on my sister. I know you don’t want to see her harmed anymore than I do. I want you to find her and bring her back to her family. To me.” He kept his eyes locked on Locke, a careful study of his reaction to the request.

“Only a matter of time before her luck runs out.” Noah added.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Cargo Hold
Interactions:Scratch & Val @Apex Sunburn, Venn @princess
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 87
Injuries: New injuries; concussion, fractured ribs, giant splinter in his leg, injured shoulder, all bruised up. Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

Ezekiel moved through the door first, ensured the hallway was clear before stepping out of the doorway and leaving room for Val to follow. He continued down the hallway until it opened into a high traffic area for the passengers. The energy matched what had been felt deep within the cargo hold; panic, confusion, and the ambient singe of magic was left in the air. A hint of necromancy too, Ezekiel was sure he caught a whiff of that rot in the air. There was blood splattered on the floor.

The attack had not been limited to the confines of the cargo hold.

As he turned to head back down the hallway, something flew into his eye socket. It slipped right under the eyepatch and lodged itself where it didn’t belong. He could feel the jagged edges, the relative smoothness of the surface despite those edges, and most concerning of all, felt the uncomfortable influence of magic that was not his.

One hand rose but hesitated before he touched his face or even tried to dig whatever it was back out. Instead, Ezekiel looked at both his hands. Entirely too filthy to be poking around for magical debris in his socket, he’d have to figure that out later.

He doubted he could pluck whatever it was out, or maybe he felt he shouldn’t pluck it out, either way; he’d have preferred a bug to whatever this was. He didn’t care for the sensation of outside magic, an artifact whose origins and intentions were unknown to him, having the chance to exert its influence. What strange continuation to an already vexing day that wasn’t even nearing its end. He limped his way back to Scratch and Val, who were in the midst of discussing the similarly strange artifacts that had lodged themselves in the pair as well.

“Thanks for the help,” The elf cleared his throat, the expected question quickly followed.

“Do you have one of…” Ezekiel looked at Scratch’s arm and gave a single nod. He looked in Val’s direction, hesitating before lifting up the cloth that covered what normally was an empty socket. Now a shard of mystical crystal sat lodged within the void glowing with the same intensity as his intact eye but with a blue and purple hue. He figured if the kid was the assistant to a surgeon she had likely seen sights more disconcerting than this.

His gaze turned to Venn as he lowered the cloth back over the eye and hid the crystal shard.

“You do not have one.” It wasn’t a question; merely an observation that the ship's officer was not examining herself for a strange glowing bit of rock. He found that odd.

“The attack was not limited to the cargo hold. We should stick together.” Ezekiel suggested, on the chance that the enemy had regrouped rather than retreated, Scratch should have someone to watch his back while he did whatever needed done in the engine room. The ship continued to shudder as if it too had injuries in dire need of mending.

There was no question what needed the most attention right now.

“And no point in heading to the infirmary if this ship crashes." The engine room was the only logical choice.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

-part 1

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Location: Gutter’s End - Todd’s Apartment • Time: 6 pm

Interactions: None • Mentions: None

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

“What is happening, Halcyon?”

Nothing but pure enthusiasm coated each word. Todd's recording studio was just a crumbling apartment deep in Gutter's End, but on recording or editing nights, it transformed into something special. With just the right amount of dim lighting, that yellowing, peeling paint seemed to fade away. The rattling pipes, distant sirens, and what he could only assume was his upstairs neighbor’s daily tap dance practice, all became unnoticed background noise. He was zoned in, living for nothing more than making sure the truth got out and found its way to any ears willing to listen.

"I’m the Guy with the latest in strangeness
Right here in the Halcyon Hellscape.
And this is: What the Hell, Halcyon?

Tonight we have a special episode
I'd say close to my heart,
but really, it’s closer to my stomach.
Episode 42; Taco Bellezza, What the Hellza?
And I am joined tonight by an anonymous expert
Who I can personally vouch for..."

“We worked at Taco Bellezza together…until Todd got fired.”

“Derek, I told you not to use my real name.”
“My bad.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll just bleep it out.”

“That is correct. Lesson learned, and lovely folks at home,
if you’re going to film tiktoks at work, don’t tag your manager.”

“I thought you got fired for telling customers the Bigfoot story?”

“Well…yeah that was the first time.
And people need to know what’s out in those woods…”

“How many times have you been fired from Taco Bellezza?”

“…Four….
Anyway, Derek, let’s jump right into all things
Weird, paranormal, and unsettling
What is your strangest sighting
Deep into the late night hours
At Taco Bellezza?”

“Demons. Hands down.”

“You said you were going to take this seriously.”
“I am. I’m telling you I’ve seen demons.”
“Derek, be so for real.”
“Todd. I’ve seen them.
There was blood all over the car, and I’m like 78% sure I saw a dead body in the backseat.
They were licking blood off their fingers when I handed them their tacos.”

Todd paused the recording and set to work on editing out the half hour he and Derek argued over whether or not accepting aliens as a potential reality was any dumber than demonic entities. Derek had won. Mostly because he wasn’t doing the show if he didn’t get to tell his demon story. In the end Todd managed to get his podcast back on track. Once they got through the nonsense they covered the real meat, or in Taco Bellezza’s case real meat-like substance, of the episode. Alien abductions in the drive-thru line. Cultists who ordered only in riddle and rhyme. Men in Black on a crunchwrap run. The time a weird government experiment got into the trash – it looked like some kind of man-bear-wolf gone wrong.

Todd had just finished editing everything when his phone alarm went off.

Job Thing

What fucking job thing?

The only answer he got, a half finished note in the alarm that said ‘be there 6 pm,’ and an address right in the middle of who the fuck knows where Thornmere Hollow is?

It was currently 6 pm.

“Well fuck me.” This was neither the first nor the last time Todd had set his alarm for the time he should be somewhere instead of the time he needed to leave to be somewhere.

And he had not the slightest clue where or why he was supposed to be somewhere but rent would be due soon and he’d just been fired from Halcyon Pizza.

But goddamn drunk Todd and his unfinished notes to sober Todd. He left his apartment in a hurry, probably locked that door when he left, and headed for the subway.

---

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Location: Thornmere Hollow • Time: Dusk

Interactions: None • Mentions: None

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Todd wondered how he’d managed to live his whole life in Halcyon and not know this place even existed. For one, it was weird. Weirder than the Ashwell’s Grill got when the late night began to stretch into the early morning hours.

He walked by the entrance to the park three times before he finally saw it. How he’d missed a park that seemed to have it’s own built in and constantly running fog machines was absolutely fucking baffling. Mist billowed out to the edges of the park and just disappeared into the air in a way that didn’t feel like it was natural. A flock of seven large crows watched him, looking a little too interested, as he lingered by the entrance to the park. Todd was almost certain there was a word for a group of crows but he couldn’t quite remember it.

Then there was all the signage. Private Property. No Trespassers. Keep Out. Strange for a park, but he mostly ignored those signs. Todd had an address on his phone that told him he was meant to be here and so he pushed open the gate to the apparently private park. It gave that sigh that old, heavy, metal things do when they don’t exactly want to cooperate.

Once he passed the gate, Todd realized how strange the trees looked, how they almost shimmered with a silver sheen as they twisted and gnarled about the crooked pathway through Thornmere Hollow. He’d never seen trees like that, not anywhere in Halcyon, not even in a movie. They must be some sort of rare, imported tree that made rich people happy because no one else had it. It was the most logical explanation.

As his feet followed a path that was slowly being reclaimed by nature, his fingers dug through his pockets for a pack of smokes and a lighter. Mixed in with his cigarettes were a few joints pretending they had nothing more to offer than a nicotine buzz, but Todd knew better. He plucked out a joint and returned the pack to his pocket. The key to success in any job that was absolute bullshit; always show up high. Then they wouldn’t recognize high Todd, they’d just assume that was normal Todd and then normal Todd became productive Todd.

Todd had it all figured out. With his plan he never even had figure out where the fuck productive Todd, who was almost never around, had gone.

He passed a crumbling stone monument as smoke mixed in with the hazy mist that only got thicker the deeper he wandered into the park. Tree branches rustled without a breeze, sunlight danced off them crafting glittery prisms around him, and his shadow constantly shifted in eerie ways. He had definitely rolled it with that primo stuff he’d had in abundance last week, no other explanation for it.

After quite a long walk, one that put him well beyond late for this ‘job thing,’ he saw the silhouette of large houses peeking up through the mist. He flicked the roach of the now finished joint into a small pond.

Another weird feature; that pond water was pitch black. Todd wondered why rich folks would have their own private park with rare fancy trees and let a pond get so filthy, it looked like sewer runoff from the shit-end of the gutter.

The walking continued, the path twisted and curved towards a collection of houses that looked like what the uncanny valley of homes might look like to a sentient house. The proportions were all skewed just slightly, angles that weren’t right, lines that didn’t match up, and looking at it for too long reminded Todd of a less than stellar acid trip he’d had two months ago. The one where the chipped paint in his apartment made him feel crazy so he’d picked at it until his fingers bled but then the walls only looked worse.

Mushrooms are so much kinder to me. He thought as he tried to find address numbers on the houses. They were not in any sort of order that made sense, and, despite that being a little frustrating when it came to trying to find the right house, that chaotic whimsy was a little charming.

It was much less charming twenty minutes later when he finally found the right house. A large Victorian manor that looked freshly painted in a deep purple, although how it was freshly painted, given that the entire house had been overtaken by ivy, baffled him. Sunlight glinted off the stained glass windows and the garden surrounding the house was as untamed as the ivy that blanketed the home. Todd made his way up to a light green door and knocked without a hint of concern.

From inside the home he could’ve sworn he heard the sound of clomping hooves.

“You are late.” A deeply disappointed bow-legged butler answered the door. Todd checked, the man did not have hooves. It was good to know he hadn’t stumbled upon Satan’s doorstep.

“Traffic?” Todd shrugged and offered a single word excuse with the hope it would suffice.

The bow-legged butler scratched at his long coarse beard, one of his gray eyes twitched slightly as he sized Todd up. “Are you high?”

Play it cool Todd and he won’t suspect a thing. Act normal. You got this. Hi, I’m Todd. Hi, I’m Todd. Hi, I’m Todd.

Todd looked that bearded butler right in the eye and grinned. “Todd. I’m high.”

Fuck. He definitely messed that one up. Todd and the butler stared at one another for a moment before the butler let out a snort.

“Ha. The Lord’ll love you.” He opened the door wider and stepped out of the way.

“The Lord? Is this a cult?” Todd asked as he entered the home without hesitation. He let out a long whistle. If it was a cult it had one hell of a budget.

“Lord Caelus. Our employer. Follow along, Todd. Try and keep up.” The butler closed the door behind Todd and led the way through the house. His footsteps still sounded like hooves and Todd wondered what sort of shoes the guy had…and where he might snag a pair.