ravenDivinity

The Relics (No Plot/Fantasy/Character Driven/Worthy of Skepticism)

Altim took a gander as he stepped into the street out the shadows, and he found few men retiring to the safety of their homes as he was. Daror conjectured the darkness encompassed the city, so safety could be found in the light, away from Amaryth. Heading west wasn't ideal, but perhaps he could fetch a boat... Making his move, his feet pounded the ground as he ran in the direction of the lakes, the eastern gate, and beyond to the cities of Riarson and Fort Madaris. The two cities built near the mountains were a good escape, although Altim himself had never seen it—he imagined they'd be tightly guarded.

His heart raced, and time picked up the pace once the gates drew near. Weaving his way through the crowds like a talented seamstress, further he hurried on while avoiding attack by the black-clad women and using the throng as a buffer. Deep breaths heaved from his chest when he approached the docks through the gate, and a certain panic filled him as the race to get into a boat and paddle off presented itself as a challenge amidst the foes embattled on the pier. Was it required that he fight his way out? 'Shit,' he thought. He couldn't turn back; fighting was necessary even if he lacked weaponry.

When the Flames Die

The question Sophia posed with Feril was legitimate; Feril returning to the palace would be a little risky. Gareth stood from his seat and slapped his hands down on the table. "We ought to choke something out of the snakes in the castle." Fleeing was not an option, therefore keeping station and collecting resources benefited them as a last resort. The group as a whole needed to have all eyes on events and all hands on deck. Harker looked between Sophia, Feril, and Eva. "Shall we return to the castle?" They had little else to do in town.

When the Flames Die

Gareth shook his head. "We can't leave here." He was grounded from leaving; he lived in, had a job in Mullen. Sure he could visit his parents, but at the same time he had business to attend to, and if he planned on leaving he had to go with prior notice. Harker also believed that running wouldn't get them far. Whatever was after Sophia needed to be confronted, not ran from. He offered no explanation as to why they couldn't leave, for he thought it needed no further explanation to start. Feril and Sophia could fill in the blanks fairly easily. Gareth looked at Sophia despairingly, him knowing she likely blamed herself for it all, but she couldn't help it. Whatever danger they were in, she was not the cause and didn't need to be blamed.

When the Flames Die

Gareth's head looked up at Feril with raised eyebrows and a mouth looking ready to pose a question. He blinked a few times, and finally he realized the reality of Tatchet's appearance. Harker raised a hand in a wave at the woman in the red jacket, and he managed a brief smirk of acknowledgement. Relief struck him hard as she made her way to them because Gareth had been so convinced she was lost or killed. Even though Feril was caught in the chaos just like them, at least she emerged from the nightmare of the previous night alive. "Yes, she is correct. Please, please, sit down." He patted a chair gently. "Take a load off after that commotion."

When the Flames Die

Gareth nervously forced himself to sit again, his legs shaking as he did so and nearly causing him to fall over. He held his head low, and he reached for his food. A hand strayed near the plate but caught hold of nothing, and Harker remembered that he had already finished his food. As much as he wanted to get up and apologize for the commotion, he couldn't let it draw on further. The half-elf clasped his hands in his lap and looked down at the floor before him, and he began to zone out. Hopefully nobody else would confront them in the inn afterwards, but he doubted the possibility.

When the Flames Die

Gareth gave a deep frown and loosened up, his bow pulled back down but the arrow still socketed and ready for fire. It was hard to stay sane if they needed to be on their toes all the time to keep each other safe, but they had no choice to retract all trust they had in people. The others in the inn might have taken note of the boy's malice, given just how creepy the grin he gave was and how foreboding the words he spoke were, but Eva likely cognized what Gareth knew as well. Killing that boy there had no justification yet, and they couldn't kill him to assure their safety if he had made no move. Harker cursed. All the eyes on them made him anxious, and he wanted nothing more than to run out of the establishment.

When the Flames Die

Gareth shifted to the other side of the boy across from Eva, and he gave them a combat advantage in doing so. Even if the child had yet to do anything, Harker necessitated the prevention of any further damages to the group. He wasn't afraid of a kid, and Gareth was actually rather adamant about his annoyance with the disturbance. First Cain, and now this. The persistence of their foe irritated Harker, but he didn't plan on backing down or lowering his guard. He stepped forward a little bit, a safe distance, but an easy one to act from.

When the Flames Die

Gareth swiftly pulled an arrow from his quiver and joined it with his bow, which he raised and drew at the sinister child. That child was a damn monster as well, and he couldn't be trusted anymore. If that child made a move, Harker would kill it where it stood. "Nobody will be meeting any graves." He took on a defensive tone. 'Except for you,' he thought, his hand at the arrow tensing for a shot. They were not going through another night like the last one. Patrons of the inn stared at the standoff, but Gareth, unable to pull back anymore, continued to train his sights on the evil little boy.

The Relics (No Plot/Fantasy/Character Driven/Worthy of Skepticism)

Altim darted into an alleyway on a street just off his own, and he peeked behind him around the corner, observing people rushing away from the scene in all sorts of directions. Bloodcurdling screams filled the cool air under the darkness, and through the dark he tried his hardest to make out events occurring on the other street corner. Killing was going on, obvious to Daror and many others from the screaming and the bodies of dead guards. His heart pounded with fear and fatigue while his breath heaved. There he waited for a few minutes, spent regathering his stamina and resting, hands on his knees as he panted. Thank the Goddess he fled the arena in time to save his skin, but more running would soon be necessary to assure his survival.

When the Flames Die

Gareth jumped from his seat to a standing position, and his abrupt movement disturbed the plates. His eyes bulged from his face with bewilderment and suspicion as he looked on the child, eyebrows raised and face tensed. Blues darted back and forth between the three accompanying them. One hand peeked behind his back and placed itself on the front edge of his bow in preparation to draw. All trust he had in the child shattered, and Harker readied himself to kill if it was necessary. "What the hell are you..." he muttered under his stiffened breath.