Hokum

Defiance

@Seraphin

Crossing the Road

---

It wasn’t a conscious decision to be lacking in certain emotion. Devlin’s inability to feel as much fear as other people was a product of the non-human half of her; that small amount of which was stirred when the oncoming bear horde started in their direction.

Devlin also wasn’t too big on laughter, yet the more she got to know Ren the more amusing he became. It was just his overall demeanor that seemed to tickle her somehow. She liked it. But she had to suppress a smirk while he frantically signed for her to follow him into the catacombs and, of course, heading into the catacombs was the obvious course of action at this stage. That, or climb a tree, but climbing a tree wasn’t going to get her any closer to her long sought after prize.

While Ren fled with the others like a frightened animals into their burrow, Devlin walked casually in their wake, even though she too was feeling a little anxious by the stampede encroaching from behind. Maybe it was a pride thing, like a man who insists on keeping a casual pace while crossing a road, even though he is only inches away from getting trampled by the fast approaching traffic of horses. Like such a man, the internal screaming for her to forsake her pride and run was causing her head to angle awkwardly as she kept to her strict, casual pace. The short walk seemed to take an eternity.

She escaped being tramples by mere inches, as the stampede of giant bears arrived just an instant after she passed through the threshold and into the catacombs.

Defiance

The House of Death

---

After Ren walked away to study the gems with Gabriel, Devlin stood quietly watching the gathering group until the orc managed to destroy the stone door with a single strike. The ensuing rumble of the ground was like a call of prophesied doom from the underworld, and yet the following gust of icy wind somehow pleasured her. As the chill sent goose bumps over her skin, she closed her eyes while her nostrils flared to inhale a lungful of the stale, frigid air. It was pleasant; the ominous essence of events relaxed her as the electric sutures faded from her lips.

She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the moment until Jack announced his theatrical question. But she was feeling no need to rush, she was used to working alone and was sceptical on just how efficiently a mottled group like this would perform, especially if the coming endeavor required the need for discretion. Subtle tact had already been forsaken. With reticent acumen as her only remaining ally, she secured the grip on her sword while awaiting the others to first proceed into the house of death.

Defiance

@Seraphin

@Dartbored FairyArrival at the catacombs.

---

Like a Moth to the Flame

---

“Ones damnation isn’t a result of the blind denial of good, it’s the deliberate rejection of good; the embracing of evil.” These words of Mada resounded in Devlin’s mind while Ren’s story conjured images that stirred a heated broth within the crusted walls of her heart. Before Ren even finished his testimony, she already knew she would one day remove the blemish of Krias and Maard’s existence from the world. Regardless, she said nothing in respect to the fact, though it should have been possible for Ren to observe the ink-black cloud churning in her eyes, her inscrutable lack of expression unchanging.

Ren’s final attempt at humor notwithstanding, Devlin’s now droned voice exuded the only, though cryptic, reply she had;

“A moth unburnt by the alluring flames of necessity.”

It didn’t really matter to Devlin what meaning Ren found in those words, for she had no intention to appease him. Providing him solace would have been like trying to comfort a mother who had lost her only son to death. It would have likely been received with a sense of redundant antipathy. For Devlin, however, the meaning behind what she said was clear: Vanquishing evil from the world would, in the end, probably come at the cost of her life. But all honorable deeds require sacrifice – death was a small price to pay for retribution – and it may have been this knowledge alone that caused Devlin to foresee her possible fate with Ren; the yet undefined events that would ultimately lead to Ren taking her life for sake of a greater good… and with it the restoration of that which was stolen from him.

The thought of this possible outcome, unfortunately, conflicted with Devlin’s prior decision to bear Ren’s child. When she and Ren then stepped out from the trees and Devlin laid eyes upon the entrance to the catacombs, the resulting dilemma produced a look of rage as violet currents of electricity crossed her lips like sutures.

Nearby, a short, sharp crackling sound was heard, drawing attention to the charred remains of a moth that spiraled to the ground in a thin trail of smoke.

Defiance

@Dartbored Fairy@Seraphin

and minor interaction with@ArkmageddonCat

---

Until Next Time

---

It would seem the feral’s challenge was requisite, since Devlin had planned on heading to the catacombs anyway, and she generally made a point of coming out alive from any situation.

Staring at the feral witch for a moment, she considered stating why the answer should have been obvious, but in the end decided a simple nod was sufficient to confirm her acceptance of the challenge.

“Until next time.”

Devlin then gave a nod of recognition to the Forest Golem who had turned up with a somewhat perplexed poise - holding no malice toward him for brutally discarding her earlier, as his behavior was no doubt the result of a delusional, traumatized mind. She followed that up with a queer look to Fauve as the woman extended the length of her legs - possibly slightly, though very slightly, amused by her antics - and then started on her way with Ren and the others towards the Catacombs. Now, with a few moments to spare before arriving at their next destination, Devlin decided it was a good time as any to find out more about her friend, the prostituted bard.

In a way that seemed to defy the obvious importance of the subject, she presented Ren the question as if striking up a conversation about something as banal as the weather:

“Have the scars on your mouth got something to do with being mute?”

It was obvious the scars on Ren’s mouth were the product of torture to some degree, most likely a result of having his mouth sewn shut. Such scars also made it clear to Devlin that Ren wasn’t always a mute, since there would be no obvious reason to sew a mutes mouth shut unless to enforce starvation, or for some other variety of sick, ironic amusement. Sadistic, ironic amusement of some type was a prospect she doubted but didn’t dismiss as a possibility. There were all sorts of monsters in the world.

Defiance

@Dartbored Fairy@Valkon@Seraphin

---

Give and Take

---

Devlin cringed internally at the rantings of the feral witch. She had instantly taken Devlin’s question as an accusation, rather than a simple question, and this lack of discrimination incensed Devlin - though she didn’t outwardly display her annoyance – as it demonstrated at least one reason why she tried to avoid conversations. People were generally stupid like that. But at the same time, Devlin couldn’t help being somewhat intrigued by the feral witches casual use of power. Not since watching her master Mada at work had she seen someone with such natural ease of great prowess.

Something the Feral had said caught her attention though, being her reference to the mysterious rise of attacks throughout Akripola as a ‘Resurgence’. It was a peculiar thing to say, denoting not only that she was aware of information about the reason behind the attacks, but also that it wasn’t the first time this sort of thing had taken place.

Nonetheless, Devlin chose to remain silent and outwardly unperturbed while watching Ren intervene. She admired the handsome musician’s gentle and charismatic audacity. Regardless of not knowing whether this Feral was worthy of it, he displayed honor for her, as he did with all the people she’d seen him interact with so far. He was mannered, not given to judgment, allowing each person the benefit of doubt without prejudice. To Ren, everyone was beautiful and worthy of respect until their actions proved otherwise. His state of heart and way of thinking about life was a foreign concept to Devlin, but no less an admirable quality and something Devlin lacked. Had she reason to care for it, she could have learnt something from him. Still, there was a lot she wanted to learn about this man if not for her own self use. His past… his inner most thoughts… why he was what he was; the prospect of these things fascinated her. But finding out more would have to wait.

After the girl with an equal lack of tact to her own, Fauve, had made her speech – and right before the feral witch used her casual manner of prowess to obtain the map from the archer - Devlin noticed the man with gauntlets arrive in a rush at the edge of the clearing. Turning only her eyes to regard the man, she tilted her head in a slightly awkward fashion and confirmed what may have already been obvious to him:

“It's futile to fight this one.”

The feral atop the skull then stole back Devlin’s attention, addressing her with scouring glare to state her further disapproval for lack of introductions, her sensitive views on being woken up, and demanded to be left in peace while denying having more knowledge on the questions that had been thrown at her.

“What other means is there to gain someones attention, if not raise my voice so they can hear it?” Devlin answered her frankly; “Would you prefer I use physical force instead? Perhaps a kick to the head next time?”

Realizing her impudent choice of words, Devlin regressed with a shake of her head as she looked to the ground; an indication she was apologetic for her manner. A moment later she lifted her eyes and gave the feral a small, conforming and maybe even slightly respectful nod, before adding; “In any case, my name is Devlin – and very well then, I’ll make a note of not disturbing your sensitivities in the future. But should I even point out that you know more than you are letting on? You mentioned a resurgence. This suggests you know more about what’s going on in Akripola than you are willing to admit.”

With that - thinking that the Feral wasn’t about to divulge more information even if she knew it - Devlin gave Ren a nudge with her elbow and was about to start her journey towards the catacombs, when she realized there was a detail she'd missed. It wasn’t like Devlin to care for people’s identities, especially when that person was expressing their preference to be left alone, but she had a sneaking suspicion this wouldn’t be the last time the two of them would cross paths.

“I’ll leave you in peace…. Sweet dreams” She said. ‘But before I go, do you have a name to share as well? Or has your great power corrupted you beyond feeling the need to show others equal courtesy?”

Defiance

@Dartbored Fairy@Seraphin

and

@Polaris North@Jensoman@Candy

---

A Simple Question

---

The shockwave of magical energy didn’t give off any feelings of animosity, so Devlin reacted very little to the burst. Neither did she care too much about the effects it had on her or possibly anyone else around, since she had no control over it anyway.

Clearly, this young, feral witch cared for little more than being woken from her sleep, and Devlin had little other concern for anything other than an answer to the question she had. This felt like the closest she’d been to getting the answers she needed, and she didn’t want to do anything that might make this witch less receptive of her.

First - taking her chances and with very pronounced actions to announce her peaceful intent - Devlin sheathed her sword and then turned from the witch to face Ren. She made fists with both hands, crossed the fists together in front of her, then quickly opened her arms as if to break the bond of her fists; relaying the sign of ‘safety’. But she added a very obvious wink to also portray her uncertainty. ‘be at the ready’.

-It wasn’t that Devlin couldn’t have just verbally told Ren that she felt they were safe for now - or even let him make his own mind up on the matter - it’s just that she needed an excuse to turn away from the witch and deliver Ren a wink the witch couldn’t see. It was also a good opportunity to illustrate her friend’s disability to the witch-

After allowing Ren a moment to reply with sign of his own, Devlin was about to turn back to address the witch when she spotted Gabriel’s face peeking out from a shrub a little distance off. The end of his bow was clearly visible and, judging by the massive shadow behind the shrubs next to him, he was obviously not alone. Orcs…. The people Devlin met at the west gate had followed, though at a distance, and were no doubt readying themselves for the worst. Devlin, however, didn’t want them to crash the party before she could obtain any useful knowledge from the witch.

In the hope Gabriel and those who were with him were paying attention, she discretely held up her open hand as a ‘stop’ sign, suggesting not to take aggressive action just yet (the sign was hidden from the witch by Devlin’s body). She then, casually, turned back the witch with a vague though obviously forced grin of her own.

“I woke you, yes, my apologies for the intrusion.” She said. “Your… friends eyes are working fine. Like I’ve already mentioned, I wish to talk. I want to know about the undead army and giant truffle pig invading Nadska right now. Are you responsible for the attack?”

Getting directly to the point was the way Devlin liked it. No sense in wasting time on petty crap.

To make it certain to the witch she wasn’t there to start a fight – even though it might have been a lie – she raised both her hands for her to clearly see she was unarmed.

Defiance

@Dartbored Fairy@Seraphin

---

At the Drop of a Hat

---

It only took a moment for Devlin to recognize the giant’s cranium for what it was. She stood at the edge of the clearing while surveying the area. Not really having need to give Ren any warnings under the circumstances, she still took a moment to extend her left arm out and down to the side with a downward flapping motion of hand to signal him to be cautious.


It was clear that a witches hat set on a giants skull in such a way to have its wind chimes dangle, was unlikely a result of random happenstance. Someone had obviously placed it there, and whoever did wouldn’t have been far away; a fact supported by the feeling of an eerily and ominous presence. Devlin wasn’t certain, however, if the presence she was feeling was related to the other feeling she had of her long sought after nemesis being at hand. The two sensations could have been from the same source, but they could have also derived from two different entities. Whichever the case, one thing was clear, the fact that she and Ren weren’t yet under attack by whatever mysterious entity lurked nearby, suggested they weren’t in immediate danger.

She looked over her shoulder at Ren, raising one brow to depicting her spunky but peculiar thoughts on the situation, then took her attention back to the hat and skull.

“There’s someone here.” She whispered just loud enough for Ren to hear, as more of declaration for the obvious, and added a note of caution; “Stay close.”

Fastening the grip on the hilt of her sword, as more of a precaution than anything else, she skulked quietly towards the giant skull. While doing so, she considered a couple more factors; one being that it wasn’t necessarily evident that whoever lurked nearby was actually aware of their presence, yet. Secondly, chimes that chimed without a wind source indicated they were likely under some variety of spell. That, and their conspicuously deliberate placement, suggested their positioning served a specific purpose, perhaps a trap or warning of some variety. Because of this distinct possibility, she stopped a few feet from the skull. Getting too close wasn’t wise.

Still, the map had led her to this point, or at least somewhere close to this location, and it was likely that whatever entity lurked nearby was able to provide answers to assist her quest. Since direct interaction with the hat didn’t appear to be the safest idea, she had but one other option in gaining the entities attention.

“I know you’re here!” She called out the words in a loud yet nonthreatening tone – but as she spoke a haunting chill ran her spin and caused her to shutter as if she had aroused a ghost from its grave. Her eyes fell upon the empty sockets of the skull like they may have anything at all to do with the haunting sensation, and regardless of the feeling, she went on to finish her announcement. “…I just need to talk with you! That’s all.”

She glanced back at Ren with a shrug of one shoulder, though remaining quiet for now, making clear her uncertainty for any pending results.

Defiance

---

Boris

Deep beneath the canopy of Sylsashia, many miles east of Nadska.

---

It happened again. Boris had woken in a strange place, just like he had done almost every day for the last few weeks. He was feeling lost, standing in the dim light among the thicket and towering trunks of a forest.

Despite his jilted feelings, this place was a whole lot better than the cold snow fields he had woken in the previous day. He had to admire the august setting, the sweet smell of flora, the slivered rays of misty light that reached down from cracks in the night-like canopy, and the cute little, pink striped lizard staring back at him from atop a nearby log. The lizard wasn’t the only creature captured by Boris’s presence though, for as he turned to survey his surroundings a little more, he caught sight of something even more amazing. It was a man - or maybe not a man - all covered in hair and crouched on a branch some twenty feet above.

Boris took a few steps back, staring agape at the creature who seemed just as stupefied by Boris as Boris was by it. It was strikingly similar to a cat in the way that it crouched in a skulking manner, so too its brass-and-coal striped fur, its snub-cob nose and bristled whiskers, its bloodless lips, its small radar ears and gleaming, jade-green eyes. In fact, everything about it seemed a lot like a cat, only much bigger and more human than Boris had seen, ever.

Boris was chuffed as he quickly came to marvel at the creature. “Wow,” He said, taking a few steps forward again; “Boris hasn’t seen anything like you before, Mr. Cat! You sure do look like a cat, no doubt about that at all!”

Reacting with sudden defensive hostility, the creature arched its back and hissed in a definite feminine tone - “Human – Leave!” With a whisk of her tail she moved with fluid, sinuous movement to the base of the branch, where she bared her broken-glass teeth while announcing a second, menacing hiss.

In wide-eyed wonder, mixed with that of regret, Boris slowly shook his head several times before finding the words to reply. He didn’t expect the creature to actually talk back.

“Boris sure is sorry for saying you’re a Mister, Mrs. Cat. Gosh... didn’t know you could understand. Boris sure is a dummy….” His mood suddenly swings to one of disappointment, hanging his head in shame. “…Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings… not even a tiny bit. Just never seen a cat person before, that’s all….”

The cat crouched lower, paw-like hands almost touching the bark between her feet while angling her head, watching Boris with inquisitive intensity. Then, with balletic grace, she dropped from the branch and landed with phantom-silence a small distance away.

“Myti.” Her voice was now subdued, like a predator coaxing its prey.

“Me…” Boris lifted his eyes with a spark of promise. “Me… meet you?”

She rounded back a little, twisting her face with bizarre uncertainty. “No….” She tried again to clarify. “I am Myti.”

“Oh – boy!” Boris’s face lit up as his barrel chest puffed with admission. “Hello Mrs. Myti! Boris sure is happy to meet you – that’s for sure!”

“No!” She spat, and shook her head at a frenzied speed, as though shaking off an annoyance. “Name’s not Myti. Not my name!”

“Well, okay then, Mrs. Cat!” He shrugged with a little boy smile. “Whatever you think is best. Boris doesn’t mind.”

The creature sighed and craned her head low in sombre disappointment. “Just call me Flaxiah…” She pulled her mouth to one side in a conciliated sneer. “Are all humans as stupid as you?”

“Oh-no!” He informed her as a matter of fact. “Boris was much more smarter, that’s for sure, but now he’s not on account of his father. Uhhh….” He turned his eyes thoughtfully, then looked back at the Myti. “Don’t know who he is really, but he hit Boris too many times and it sure did hurt a lot….” His mood quickly shifted again, giving Flaxiah a pouting doe look.

Flaxiah’s eyes narrow with a possible hint of sympathy while her crouching poise straightened slightly to a brooding wilt. “Human, you don’t belong here.” She said with a swift flick of her tail. “You need to leave.”

“Alright then, Mrs. Flaxiah.” Boris smiled obligingly, and glanced conspicuously at the place that he’d woken a few minutes beforehand, where his large body had left a deep imprint in the moist foliage. “Doh…, Mrs. Flaxiah?” He bit his lip embarrassed to admit; “Can you tell Boris where he is? This sure isn’t where he went to sleep last night.”

“You are in Sylsashia. It is a forest. My home.” She explained, and nestled in a seated position before pointing Boris in the direction to go. “The safest and quickest way out.”

Boris had never heard the name Sylsashia before, though that wasn’t so unusual of late. He hadn’t recognized a place he’d been in weeks. In any case, he really didn’t have anything more to say. He just gave a firm nod, appreciating the help and glad to have met a cat person, then turned to walk away.

“Human.” Flaxiah called after him softly, squinting one eye and baring one pointed tooth.

Boris stopped and turned expectantly.

“Be careful out there… Boris.” She expressed a hint of a laudable grin.

“You can count on that, Mrs. Flaxiah,” He replied, “thank you very much for being nice.” And with that, Boris broadened his smiled and went on his way with a spring in his step.

Defiance

@Seraphin&@Dartbored Fairy

---

Casual Prophesies

---

She knew it was Ren approaching, as she was already familiar with the sound of the way he moved and walked, like a fingerprint of its own. Like all people, he was unique and, like most people, he could be identified by listening alone. When the superfluous snap of Ren’s fingers pierced the dark, silent gloom of the forest, she was already slowing her step to crush a twig underfoot. The following snap of its similar resonance confirmed the pre-established acknowledgement of his presence. That was her response, while she continued to keep her focus ahead. The chimes were drawing near.

– But then fate would inevitably have her stop when Ren conveyed his impetuous need for knowledge. She wasn’t used to this, as keeping to one’s self usually prevented people from badgering her with unnecessary questions. But for Ren, she supposed, the circumstances that held him captive were not a banal affair. Devlin therefore understood his surge of curiosity, but at the same time she never felt the need for conversation. Most situations spoke for themselves by way of basic observation. Verbal communication was seen as rudimentary, redundant, and often even annoying. But there was always an exception to every law, be it a law to one’s self, or one set for the ignorant masses to establish order by. Such was the case with Ren, as well as the group back at the gate, for which she forsook her own distaste for verbal communication. But Ren was different to the others. He never failed to stir her heart in a way that conflicted with her primary goal, and yet, once again, she couldn’t hold it against him.

While the beautiful soul staring out from beyond the heavy load of Ren’s eyes countered her usual contempt, Devlin’s pinky tightened around his own. She knew he wanted to feel more of what he had felt before, as she was willing to feel more of the same from him – but her current, less than provoked emotional state, had nothing more to share; the sword in her hand was no more than a sword at the moment. Yet, despite her willingness to disclose the truth to Ren, now wasn’t the time, and neither were words sufficient to explain what needed to be heard. Had she possessed the power of her master, Mada, she would have been able to reach into his mind and share the sum of her thoughts in an instant. Alas, she could not. Such was beyond her capability. Therefore, she could but delay the inevitable. In time he would understand. There were, however, a few things she found herself inclined to share with him in that moment.

“Now is not the time, Ren…” Her voice was soft, barely audible, not wanting to alert any nearby entities of their interaction. “I know what you are. You are the loyal pup that, despite the cruelty of his master, will love him no less… sooth him in his hour of sorrow. Behold… the question why.” She paused her cryptic speech, her stony face now seemingly transfixed in a surreal moment. “Words are never enough, and seasons ignore our preference, but in time, Ren… I will share with you my life. For now, let it be known, you are the purest of human souls I have met…. Which is why I will bear your child.”

The obvious implication behind her words were no doubt defied by her apparent lack of feeling, as though she had simply just made up her mind on the matter as a point of fact, and nothing more. She then went to turn away and pursue her previous endeavor, only to be stopped by a moment of hesitation. Placing her index finger against Ren’s lips as a symbol to her intent, she gave a slight, warding turn of her head, and added:

“No more. Keep close. I feel something nearby.”

Removing her finger from his lips, Devlin recommenced her slowed trek in direction of the wind chimes.

Defiance

@Dartbored Fairy

---

A Familiar Notion

---

Devlin seemed to be on her own, at least to start, but maybe Ren and the others would follow in time. The woods were much alike many of the woods she had been in, including certain areas of the Despiun forest back when she was a child. Dark... quiet... none of that disturbed her or made her scared. The wind chimes, on the other hand, were at least a curious aspect.

She stopped for a moment, angling her head to get a better fix on where exactly the sound of the chimes was coming from, but as she listened closely at the sound, a feeling of… an ominous presence turned her gut.

It was natural for Devlin to feel the presence of powerful or hostile beings nearby. It was never an exacting intuiting on any account, but it never failed to alert her of such presences within a general area. This particular notion was of a familiar feeling somehow, she just couldn't discern where or what she knew it from. It was possible the sensation of other dominant beings she'd encountered in her past simply held a similar vibe about them to this one. Powerful? Magical? Dangerous? Maybe a mix of the few…. She couldn’t really tell which of those either, but it did, for now - whatever it was - seem to be deriving from the general direction of the wind chimes.

Devlin drew her sword, more as a matter of caution than anything else, before walking in direction of the pretty, tinkling sound. She’d been fooled by her senses on more than one occasion.

After a few more steps she slowed her walk a little, thinking she heard something behind her, but then passed it off as the possibility that one of the others were on her tail and catching up. But she needed not worry about them as any threat.

Increasing her pace yet again to a comfortable walk, she continues on her way….