RangingWolf — Roleplayer Guild

Attius was quietly sitting at the bar eating his stew and listening in on the conversations happening around.  From the 'courier' that entered with her delivery. Probably a spy of some sort or maybe a mercenary, with the way she was eyeballing everyone and  looked ready to fight at a moments notice. One of the others that entered was a odd sort of noble with a familiar nothing of interest regarding him. 

He ignored the fight that broke out since it wasn't worth his attention. Though it did reveal that their was a royal guard here. Perhaps he should talk to him later about the cults activity? Something to think about at least. For now he would enjoy his stew and ale. Wasn't that bad actually, most of the time finding decent food far from one of the capitals was difficult. Atticus suddenly felt colder and smelt wine. All he had wanted to do was enjoy his damn meal and plan his next. But no, some damn familiar decided to throw wine all over him. Turning around faced the group that had the familiar with them. 

Standing up he from his chair, Atticus approached the group, anger shown clearly on his face. Slamming his fist into the table, spilling one of drinks. "Control your damn familiar, Mage. Your lucky I'm one of the nicer hunters others in my order wouldn't accept this slight." He said with contempt in his voice. 

Geoff

After wandering for some time Geoff found himself in the outskirts of Dall near a old ruined church. Since the Leader of the nation failed to show at the designated time. Geoff found himself lacking in what to do now, should he stay in the city and wait for another missive, find a new employer or head back home to his tribe since it had been many long years since he'd seen his family. 

Walking inside the dilapidated church, Geoff found something that brought a small smile to his face. In the center of the church was a very old altar. Geoff now knew how he would get his answer on what to do. Walking back outside, he looked around in the distance he saw a small herd of goats. "One of those will do just fine." He whispered to himself. Geoff didn't know if they belonged to one of the local farmers but he didn't care. One goat wouldn't hurt said farmer in the long run. 

After walking a short distance Geoff found one of the goats near him a kid by the looks of it. Picking up the goat, Geoff started walking back to the old church. Geoff always disliked taking the life of animal when it wasn't for food. But the old ways demanded a live sacrifice and a substantial one at that. The Old Gods were something to be feared, his old tribe's Shaman showed that after being blessed by them. Being able to conjure flames and water from nothing. Terrifying. 

Finding himself back in the church Geoff grabbed some rope from his supplies. He binded the goats legs despite the goats protests and loud bleating. If Geoff could he would kill the goat before his sacrifice but it wouldn't please the Old Gods and would only bring their ire on him. "I'm sorry little one but I must know what to do. Your death will not be in vain." He said to the goat while petting it. Once Geoff was sure the goat was properly secure on the crumbling altar, he pulled out the knife that his father gave him before the journey. 

Now that everything was ready Geoff started the ritual. Moving to the bound animal he pressed the knife against its neck. Drawing in a breath, he pressed the knife hard against the animals throat and cut deep into it making sure that the animal would bleed quickly. Once the blood started to flow, he placed the knife the altar and using the first two fingers on each hand placed them in the warm liquid then from each corner of his eyes dragged the bloodied fingers down till the reached the end of his neck. If one were to see him now the blood trails would almost make it look like he was crying. Once his markings were done he took a few steps back on got on his knees and closed his eyes. "Alföðr, please hear my plea. Grant this one a glimmer of your knowledge for I am unsure of how to proceed. Alföðr, this one knows he is unworthy of your time and was never trained in the practice of shamanism. Should this one continue with his current life or should he return home to his people?" His words quietly echoing in the ruined church. 

The only sounds in the church were his prayers and the quieting rattle of the dying goat. Opening his eyes he noticed the way the blood had flowed. Quickly getting to his feet he once again approached the altar. Standing above the altar Geoff looked at the patterns of blood. The Alföðr had answered his prayers! He started to read the patterns. "That almost looks like a castle." He said pointing at it. The largest of the patterns was rectangular near the base and circular near the top. "and that one there looks like a group of people." he said moving his finger to the second pattern. The second one was a common pattern seen in all sacrifices. Three dots. Geoff knew this represented people. "This one almost looks like a crown." Now pointing at the second largest pattern which was round with a few points at the top of it. "This last one though I'm unsure of it. Pear shaped. I know I've seen this before." He said moving his finger to the last pattern. The last and perhaps the most obscure was the pear shaped pattern. Curious as to what that one meant, he started to think about the meaning behind it. Then it clicked, he looked at his sword, at the top of the grip there was a wolf's head.  "Looks like I won't be heading home or looking for new work then. The Alföðr had spoken and I shall answer his call. Thank you little one for this. Without you I'd be lost. He said giving the now deceased goat a few pets. With that now done Geoff started to gather his belongings and from there he would make his way back into the city and hopefully found out what this missive was all about.

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