Avatar of SilverPaw

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Jandar Varan
Ruined town

After his conversation with Fatima, Jandar felt somewhat tired due to the resignation that burdened him. True, the Queen’s thankfulness was just refreshing enough to keep him going, but it couldn’t keep tension from building within him. In his certainty that something would go wrong, quiet dread pooled in his stomach. Sighing and fussing with his hair, Jandar decided he needed to refresh himself. Not only would it help his guise as a rich merchant, it would also lift his mood. Now, if only he had the opportunity to indulge in some whiskey…

Heading to their carriage, Jandar asked the nearest available Eyrien brother for help finding a bucket, a full waterskin, and something to work as a clothesline. With the help of craft, he set the simple rope across their camping grounds, tying one part to their carriage and another to a tree. Then, he set a box next to the bucket, poured water in it and set the empty container aside, stripped down to his underwear, summoned a hand soap, and scrubbed his current clothing by hand. When the matter was done, he set it out to dry.

With a snap of his fingers, he applied a sight shield to himself, and set to washing his beige linen underpants. Then, his own body and hair, using a more luxurious soap than he had for his clothes, as well as a fancy shampoo. Though he was technically streaking, he wasn’t embarrassed – he had set himself to be invisible after all. If someone purposefully broke past his sight shields…well, he’d rather they didn’t, but the result would be on them. Still, he didn’t take more than ten minutes to finish up. He then summoned a fluffy white towel, dried off, then set it to dry on the clothesline.

What would be seen from his activity at the moment would be his footstep, the water dripping down from him and the towel and leaving a trail, and various items moving here and there as he used and moved them. He perched on the box he’d set out again, and got decent. This included clothing himself in a freshly summoned set of underwear, a pair of expensive dark slacks, and a burgundy dress shirt. Finally decent again, he removed the sight shields and set to cleaning his boots. He did have a vanished set of dress shoes, but it would be pointless to wear those when he was to pose as a travelling merchant. So, he wiped the boots and polished them as best as he could. After wiping of his yet-muddy feet and putting on soft cotton black socks, he was finally set to wear the almost shining leather boots. He did so, then summoned his whole backpack, rifling among his belongings for a few odds and ends.

First was a perfume, a sort of subtly heady scent that blended hints of citrus with a sort of woody fragrance that was overall light, but long lasting. A drop to each wrist was enough, which he then held gently to the base of his throat and behind the ear lobes to spread the scent. Next, he found an elegant black-silver cravat, thankfully not wrinkled, and tied it properly around his neck. A dark gray vest came over it, which matched his slacks in color. Then, a black leather jacket, which he put on but left opened at the front, the material of which was worn enough to lend credence to the travelling part of his story, yet obviously also well taken care of. A cherished, serviceable, sensible piece of outwear for a merchant. Lastly, he found the perfect piece of jewelry, a silver brooch that he could lodge his Blood Opal jewel into. When he did, he pinned the jewel-encasing brooch onto the breast of his vest, in plain view. He Vanished the rest of his belongings. As for his hairstyle – not that much could be done with it running just long enough to barely get into a short ponytail – and makeup, he’d need Fatima’s help with.

He stood up, stretched, and noticed Dareen, who’d apparently sought him out. He thought it might have been to discuss her role, but she simply asked him whether he’d be willing to die for Fatima, though it was obviously a rhetorical question. Nonetheless, Jandar turned to her. “Yes,” he confirmed, matter-of-factly. He could have said more, but there was no need to, as far as he was concerned. Quickly moving past the odd moment, the Warlord instead chose to discuss their guises. “Now, as to what role you’d like to play…Fatima suggested you could simply go as a fighter, though if you do, I prefer your idea of trying to pass as a male. If you’d like to attempt it, I believe you could still pass as my wife, but whether you’re capable of acting meek yet naively rich enough is for you to decide,” he commented. “I will act as a merchant, as discussed previously,” he added, just in case it was not clear yet.

“My Uncle is one, after all, and I know enough about business,” he offered. He’d heard Fatima’s suggestions, but really, what she’d said on how best to play a part, he already knew. He had already done so before, in fact. But it was advice that might benefit Dareen. If the warrior woman asked him, he’d advise the male-mercenary role for her. That way, he himself would need not fear to have to compensate for his ‘wife’ in case she did anything too odd. Mercenaries were often looked down upon – which wasn’t bad in this case, as it would allow Dareen to show some of her innate roughness – but their use was nonetheless recognized, and so pretending he was in employ of one would not be at all unusual.
Asteria



Soft flesh cushioned her impact, and Asteria swore she could hear the faint creaking of suffering bones from her enemy’s torso. Though they’d tackled it from behind, the bastard still managed to lash with an arrow at Mother Rat, harming her and causing her to back away. Still holding the arrow as if it were a dagger, the goblinoid twisted around, trying to grab at her with one hand and stab her with the other. Using her whole body weight, Asteria shifted to pin its torso down even more harshly, and intercepted the attack with her own paws, knocking the grabbing hand away with a clawed attack, while grabbing the arrow-armed one by the wrist. Instead of letting it come to a contest of strength, however, the dire rat tightened her tail around the Bloodingfly stinger she’d kept ahold of ever since 'equipping' it after her conversation with the gnome, and drove the pointy end swiftly towards the green-skinned archer's neck!


Collab done with the GM in Adventurer's Guild tab


Upon entering the city, one of the very first things Vesper saw was the adventurer's guild, which is exactly where she went. Getting to an empty counter was a bit of a struggle, but once she was in front of one of the free attendands, she immediately greeted them. "Hey! Do I need to register here or something?"

”Regist’ fa’ wa’?” The gray-haired dwarven barkeep shouted across his countertop over to the newly situated girl. The barking of the drunkard was quickly admonished a guild girl politely pulled a small leather container out from beneath the counter and placed it atop. “Register a Guild, or were you looking to formally join the Adventurer’s Guild?”

Vesper blinked, bemused at the dwarf's minor outburst. Then, she turned to face the official employee. "What benefits are there for joining the Adventurer's guild formally? And what would it cost me?" the Fae ranger wondered, head cocked slightly to the side, a small polite smile playing about her lips.

“The fee is 10 silver pieces, and the benefits are that you’ll have access to the Guild’s information channels at all times. As well as free harboring in our facilities and if you gain ranks, a retainer.” The guild girl said with a plastic smile, she was very professional. “Though, you will not be able to join another guild if you join ours. Which means you’ll be restricted in some ways, killing other adventurers is completely unacceptable for example.”

"Whew, I don't even have the money for that, but once I do, I'll come around and ask more about the ranks, restrictions and other guilds. For now, is it possible to get some very basic information even though I'm not a member?"

“Of course! I can answer any questions about the immediate region, and also the town!”

"Hmm, well first things first...I've completed that Welcome to Thalam quest, you know, the collecting of five slime jellies for Tu Tauri Al? There's kind of a huge crowd of play-" Vesper suddenly cut herself off, coughed a bit, then continued "uh, adventurers gathered around where I'm supposed to go. It's actually kinda hard to find the right person because of that," she said, which was half-true. Even if she'd kept the arrow-pointer, there were just so many people, trying to blink through all of them to find the NPC would probably turn out to be a nightmare.

“Tu is found in the barracks, though you’ll need someone to guide you inside as it is restricted to outsiders. We’ve had an influx of werewolf sightings in the area, so we are a bit on guard.” The guild girl nodded, shifting her weight forward to lean into her elbows and canting her head. “Anything else?”

"Hm, I see. Just who that 'someone' who could guide me in could be? And where could I find them?"

“A guard member of scout who works under Tu would work! Or one or the town guides that may be wandering around!”

"Do they all have the same uniforms? I might have seen some by the entrance into the town, but I wasn't much paying attention, honestly..." Vesper trailed off, trying her hardest to remember what would obviously be a throw-away NPC in another game. No luck. How could she have known that it would be important?

“Silver and Blue armor with a bell armband or engraving for the guards. Scouts are typically dressed in dark gray or brown, harder to differentiate them - though they’re undercover typically.”

"Thanks! I'd tip you, but," the fae shrugged, long green hair swishing left and right as she did so, a brief wry smirk appearing before she smoothed her expression with a shake of her head. "Maybe next time I come around I'll have at least a few coppers to my name," she grinned.

Vesper exited the adventurer’s guild, wandered around until she found one of the guards – which was fairly simple now that she knew what they looked like; even in such a crowd, a known uniform was easy to spot. She approached the guardswoman, a wiry blonde with her hair tied in a bun, sharp cheeked and with stormy grey eyes. However, the town’s peacekeeper was amiable enough to lead her and some other adventurer tagalongs towards the barracks. The fae couldn’t help but wonder how all the players would be able to fit into the building, considering the game was realistic enough that only one person could occupy a particular space.
Online
Queue
Class: Ranger
Level: 3

104//104//110
Jandar Varan
Ruined town

“I know I must be the one to lead,” Jandar replied to Faeril with a bemused smile. He was one of Aristo, so he obviously could more easily pass as one, despite the differences between Kaeleer and Terreille. “I was simply commenting that I don’t possess the detailed knowledge of Terreille’s customs that one of this Realm’s natives does. Which is why we are having this in-depth discussion and consultation,” he clarified, hand gesturing in a wide circle as he encompassed the group he was talking to. Just then, Fatima stumbled her way over, as if in a daze, not looking at anyone as she made her way to him. A blink later, the Warlord felt a surprisingly strong grip around his left wrist, a weight leaning against his body as the Queen practically collapsed onto him.

“Hey,” Jandar murmured to her, mild confusion apparent in his tone – he’d still not quite gotten used to just how tactile his (future) Lady could be, despite the fact that he always returned the gestures freely. The Warlord put his right arm across Fatima’s shoulders, beginning to pet her head lightly and with a slight hesitation. It was kind of awkward, if he thought about it, which…he tried not to. I guess it’s what having a little sister might have been like. Though I really shouldn’t think of a Queen as that, he thought, lips thinning as he suppressed a wince.

Keeping the loose half-hug around Fatima, Jandar looked over her head, continuing the conversation and letting the Queen just be for now, right palm leisurely scratching at her scalp and brushing through her hair. He was secure in the knowledge that Fatima could easily leave the proximity whenever she tired of it. “A sight shield,” he commented, brows rising slightly upwards as he observed Mikhail’s demonstration. “Excellent,” he stated matter-of-factly. “That said, I’d rather not bring the whole coach. Just the horses, perhaps,” he said, frowning as he considered the pros and cons of the suggestion.

“The main reason against the coach is drawing attention. Especially because we'd have to make our way back here eventually," his emphasis made it obvious that being followed here would be bad for a variety of reasons. "Also, being rich is one thing, filthy rich and showing off quite another. We must be careful not to arouse too many questions,” though his remark countered Mikhail’s suggestion to bring the coach with them to town, the Warlord wasn’t addressing only him any longer, but rather Faeril and company as well.

“Even as it is, the nobility of this town may wonder why they haven’t heard of us before, if we are so well of and I the purported somewhat scandalous product of a shrewd, possibly Aristo Hayll, and,” he affixed a sneer on his face, injecting utmost revulsion into his tone as he continued “and uppity Dhemlan thief.” Then the Kaeleeran native huffed, easing his expression back to neutral. “That’s the kind of attitude you had in mind, correct?” the question was quite rhetorical in nature, however, since Jandar was confident in his acting abilities.

“In any case, if we are to be interacting with the upper class, we will need fake names. Just in case we unwittingly arouse suspicion despite our best attempts, I do not want our true names – or appearances – to reach the capital. Besides, I have already met one Lord in Dhemlan, and I still carry the Vanished corpse of one of his men with me,” he added dryly. That particular event had been pushed to the back of his mind due to the events in Askavi, but it wasn’t as if he’d forgotten about it.

Dareen spoke up next, and Jandar wryly smirked at her frankly peasant remarks. “Yes, you can be the daughter of a landlord and a businessman, whatever business might be most prosperous in your lands,” he replied evenly. Though he couldn’t quite his sarcasm completely under bay for his next statement; he chuckled without humor. “I realize it’s not in your nature, but just keep your head down, eyes averted, cling to my side, and only reply with a vague nod if I actively seek your confirmation on something,” he drawled. Then, he cocked his head lightly to the side as he considered fashion matters, disregarding Dareen’s joking attitude about it. “Wing slits and old fashioned might be rather a dead give-away, I’m afraid,” he murmured, considering. “Perhaps…” he added before trailing off, though pointedly looked at Fatima.

Not saying anything directly to the Queen just yet, he looked back to Dareen. “Speaking of makeup,” he glanced in Faeril’s direction, “I should have some applied to me as well. Both to make me unrecognizable and to make it seem more likely that I am part or wholly Hyllian.” He expected Faeril and Fatima to be able to help him with that. While he had a very basic knowledge in applying make-up – as one tended to gain as an Aristocrat, whether they were male or female – he was no expert. Moreover, the Hyllian race was exclusive to Terreille, so he could only guess at what kind of subtle differences he’d need to make to his face to pass as one of them.

Jandar groaned at Dareen’s next revelation. “No hood, no,” he asserted. “We can have your hair washed, then you braid it again, then we’ll cover it with a veil." The Warlord sighed silently at the ridiculous prospect of having to pass such an obvious peasant for a noble. “We’ll put you in a dress, don’t worry,” he waved a dismissive hand. Getting a proper dress in the first place was more of an issue. Speaking off…“Fatima, can you help us with the disguise and the fake names? You’re Hyllian, so I assume you have some knowledge of that culture?” he questioned her quietly, gripping her shoulder comfortingly. “Also, if you happen to have a spare dress and jewelry Vanished somewhere…?” he wondered. Jandar had given her some time to calm down from the bout of grief he suspected had taken ahold of her, but he really did need her cooperation for what they were about to attempt.





Jun scoffed, then muttered quietly to herself, “So melodramatic.” With one swift move, she removed the overcoat she wore, revealing more practical clothes underneath – similar to the standard demon slayer uniform, just without the usual identifiers. Though, a demon was sure to find out even without that, especially given her sword. However, instead of drawing her weapon from its sheath, Jun untied it from her belt, then used the string attached to the sheath to wrap around the handle and the base of the weapon. She had a hunch she was about to fight humans rather than demons, so the warrior tightened the fastenings, ensuring the weapon would remain sheathed. Tch, I’ll have to tone down my power, or this will just fall apart. She could have attempted striking with the back of her sword, but that wasn’t a compromise she wanted to adopt just yet, so keeping the saw-edged katana in its scabbard would have to do.

Jun glanced around, taking note of the two girls, narrowing her gaze as she tried to catch sight of the enemies. She crouched, breathed in deeply, concentrating on her leg muscles momentarily, then pushed off. Third form: Shooting Star… she twirled as she shot off, keeping her eye on the whole of the alley wall, walls and roofs included, ascending at a slight angle until she landed with a muffled thump just by a rain gutter lining one of the roofs. ...Silent ascent, nonlethal version. She glanced down, at the girls, the alley’s entrance, the opposite end, the windows, balconies, nooks and crannies, and of course, the tops of the buildings. Whoever she was after, they’d be here somewhere, and she could get to them faster than they could to the girls – unless the opponent actually was a demon. Jun kept a hold on the sword’s handle with her both hands, body thrumming, ready to unleash the finisher of the third’s form – the multiple, heavy slashes – at a delay, as soon as her target was pinpointed.

Meanwhile, on the street level…

The blonde gasped at that weirdo’s moves, gripping the dagger tighter to her, shoulders and back growing ever tenser as she planted her legs firmly to the ground. Her gaze glanced nervously around, ears perking as she tried to locate the direction the presence that had tried to muffle their sounds was. A very mild tremor tried to get a hold of her hands, but she bit the inside of her cheek, and scratched at the backs of her palms while still holding onto her weapon, using the pain to center herself.

Her sister used the opportunity of the stranger’s wondrous ascent to back off, practically collapsing by a trashcan. She crawled backwards until her back hit the wall, and she squeezed herself by the trashcan and in between the nearby bags-full of trash. The stench made her grimace and cover her mouth with a hand. Her other hand still clutched the sharpened hairpin. If someone came near, she just had to stab them in the neck. Maybe pretend compliance or weakness first, then stab them in the neck. Knee their lower regions if they were a male. Slam an elbow into their jugular if her weapon was taken from her. Beg…No, no begging. Instead, she could drive the heeled part of her footwear into their toes. Use her fingers to stab at their eyes. Bite them. Struggle. Anything. As she ran through this advice, she affixed her gaze to the person who gave it to her – her sister. She knew she’d been told to escape, but…She was afraid to go alone. Where would she go? How could she even be alone, after all this time? She needed her sister, and if it meant being together, she’d rather go side-by-side into the afterlife. But maybe, just maybe, they could both make it out of here, alive and well. That would be nice.



Vesper got invited into the targeted group by Lothair, the mage, joining the fray somewhere in the middle. Fighting against the level three blue slime from that point was, in one word, grueling. Even with five – five! – people, they struggled greatly. After defeat followed a sense of relief, but also frustration. Wow, is this bow shitty or what? And my stamina burns so soon! No way could I solo even a level one slime. Urgh…

That was Vesper’s realization; she’d have to stay in a party. Then, the mage and the healer of the party left, and the three were left, though the rogue was disconnected or fell asleep or something. Still, not about to give up now that she had gained one level and one slime jelly, Vesper and Lynir coordinated via the party chat to hunt lower level slimes. With a light feeling of embarrassment, Vesper accompanied the warrior back towards the beginning of the plains.


The duo made fairly easy work of their second enemy, though comparing a green slime to a blue one was likely unfair. The most amusing thing was, that once she ran out of stamina, and Lynir had managed to exhaust the slime’s hp to 1, Vesper had run in, and with a “Hah!” mightily kicked the green goop in its side, dealing exactly one damage, and finished it off.

Each party member got some experience, and besides one more slime jelly, Vesper also gained a shiny new Green bandana. It was not visually appealing, but at least its color somewhat matched her hair. More importantly, it had the additional stat bonuses of plus two armor and plus one technique. So, even though she was saving that one point she could invest into any of her stats until later one, the head gear gave her one stat for free! Perfect. Now, three more for completing the quest. I wonder, should we try to kill more to grind? I don’t really want to with how tanky these slimes are, but what if all the in-game monsters are like this? Vesper shuddered as she considered that. Hopefully, her concerns would prove to be unfounded; else, she could never turn solo with a DPS class. While she considered her future in-game, her health, mana, and stamina were swiftly recovering, and soon, she was ready for another round.


Oh goodness, can RNG be a bitch or what?! That had been an utter failure. Complete and utter failure, I said!! Vesper glared off into the distance moodily, gripping her bow so harshly that its durability may have been soon in danger, but then she huffed and relaxed her hold. At least the very last attack against the slime had vindicated her. Seeing her weapon deal the highest amount of damage it was capable of with the Aimed shot skill had been nice. Very nice. Nice enough for her to forgive this Basic Bow and not forsake it.

…Besides, if she sold, lost, or otherwise got rid of this bow, what would she be left with? Her bare fists? Ha! Shaking her head at her own ridiculousness, Vesper re-focused on the task at hand: Slime-killing.


“Wheew,” Vesper sighed, stashing her bow. With a glance at Lynir, she said, “It was good working with you. If you don’t mind, we can just stay in the party like this,” she shrugged, offering the warrior a pleased smile. “Anyhow, I’m off to the city~” her laughter rang clearly like wind chimes, voice higher-pitched in her amusement than the lower but no less pleasant sound she’d set for regular conversation during character creation.

Giddy with success, and feeling lighter for being rid of the burden of the quest and the slog of getting through five measly slimes it had necessitated, Vesper twirled into the air, and proceeded to fly towards the town. Of course, even though she’d invested all her points into technique, that meant only one minute of complete freedom and dazzling airborne maneuvers.

Then, it was back to the ground. Vesper sighed. Now that she was paying more attention to it, that yellow arrow pointing to the person who was presumably Tu Tauri Al. “Tsk,” she muttered, suddenly irritated, and with a couple of blinks, turned the guidance off. She could find who she needed on her own. Or rather, she could still very easily follow the throng of players heading that way, or even ask an NPC. Actually, some exploration didn’t sound like a half-bad idea.
Online
Queue
Class: Ranger
Level: 3

104//104//110
Jandar Varan
Ruined town

“Ah, so any Eyrien Warlord Prince would be viewed with open terror and/or hostility. I wasn’t aware, I admit,” Jandar admitted to Bellinar. From the corner of his eye, he checked on Fatima, but she’d not yet exited that one residential building she’d went to inspect. Surely, she would shout if something were the matter? The urge to check on her grew, but the Warlord turned back to the present conversation. “Certainly, a Dea Al Mon is an exotic sight anywhere in Terreille,” he replied to Faeril, then turned to Mikhail briefly, “But, Prince, have you not ever disguised your features during your travels?” the Warlord queried.

When that matter was cleared up, he focused on the Black Widow once more, pondering her suggestion. Playing the role of a husband to a Pruulish witch, was it? It was plausible, though he’d need to establish a basic story with Dareen regarding how they might have ‘met’ and ‘married’ and other such details. Even if no-one asked anything beyond their names and their status as a couple, it was better safe than sorry. Especially since the people might be mightily curious at such an odd matching; longer-lived races taking on a person from one of the shorter-lived races was a rarity for a reason.

After mentioning they should light no fires, Faeril suddenly glared at him. Puzzled, Jandar looked at her, then behind himself, where he could see the newer town off in a distance. “Faeril? What’s the matter?” he asked gently, dearly hoping the woman would answer honestly. But she was a very reticent individual; he had the impression that she kept her troubles to herself, rarely revealing them to people she knew well (such as the brothers), never mind to strangers. Sighing only within the privacy of his mind, Jandar waited for her answer, then approached Dareen.

The Pruulish woman seemed to find the notion of having to act as a rich girl outrageously hilarious, and Jandar offered her a crooked grin. “Thankfully, you will not have to pose as a noble,” he uttered dryly. “Only as a someone decently well-off. Once you…dress up, as it were, I suggest you resign yourself to keeping as silent as possible in town. We could pass you off as a demure lady, I suppose,” he drawled sarcastically. He was just teasing the witch, honestly. She seemed like the type that could take it in good fun, and possibly banter just as well in turn.

“Truthfully though, the fact that I don’t have the common sense and knowledge of a Terreille native is much riskier,” the Warlord confessed. “So, let’s try to establish a story that would make sense,” he suggested, “with Faeril’s help,” Jandar nodded at the Black Widow to include her in the discussion. “I could present as a son of an affluent merchant, who recently married his business associate’s daughter – that would be you, Dareen, so think of a profession that could get one rich in Pruul for your part of the story,” he gestured to the Pruulish witch. “And now, my newly-wed wife and I are travelling Terreille as part of our honeymoon,” he finished proposing the key elements of their fictional backstory.

“If that sounds acceptable, then I’d only need to know what’s the easiest to make profit off of in Terreile,” Jandar added. Suddenly, he grimaced distastefully, and chose to add a clarification. “And please, for the love of Mother Night, do not just say slaves,” he shuddered mildly, remembering the bloodied pens he’d seen in Terreille Dhemlan. He knew those things had not only been used to hold animals; he was not naïve. Nonetheless, the fact that such things were practiced – and openly! – within parts of Terreille was…abominable beyond belief.
Jandar Varan
Ruined town

The Eyrien brothers procured what seemed like quite the expensive coach, and Jandar wondered however they were able to afford it, but the fact of the matter was that they needed it. Through the Blue Winds, Gennar led them out of Askavi. During the trip, Jandar stuck to Fatima, being the one who usually coaxed her to eat, sleep, move, and could only hope that that spark of life would eventually return to her. For now, he let her reflect and mourn most of the time, with the occasional encouragement she needed to prod her into doing more than sit and think and wane.

Eventually, they arrived to a landing web of a ruined town. Jandar released Teo from where he’d been fastened in the front of the coach alongside another horse, letting him find something to graze amidst the ruins. There wasn’t much. Buildings falling apart, life missing – even vermin seemed to be rare, and the fields of witch blood. This place had been ravaged by war, cleansed by fire, abandoned by men. Nature was beginning to overtake the place, the thorns and weeds and grass a surprisingly welcome sight in what was otherwise an utterly desolate scenery.

“Indeed, we best make a camp here, and split into two groups. One to stay here, one to scout in the town. It would be least odd if only one of one were to go, seeing how different from the natives we will be…But it should be safer if a few of us go,” Jandar mused. Perhaps only the three Eyrien brothers should go? If they sent to much of a mixed group, there would be questions. Then again, the same might hold true for a trio of Eyrien warriors. “Perhaps myself, Mikhail, and one or two of the Eyrien brothers. Dareen, maybe,” he added. “Fatima, Faeril, and Xandar would certainly stand out too much, so it is a given that they stay here. Prince Markov, you could of course protect the group that stays with you here, correct?” he addressed the Eyrien Warlord, hoping the male would not desire to go into the unknown town. “We’ll certainly need to think of a story we can give to the citizens. Should we simply pose as a rag-tag group of travelers, I wonder?” That was the closest to the truth after all.

As he thought this, Jandar’s gaze flicked around, and he suddenly realized Fatima had managed to wander apart from them while they’d been deep in thought in discussion. Immediately becoming more alert, the Warlord focused on enhancing his sight with the power of his Blood Opal jewel, the power giving a subtle glow to his eyes as he looked around intently. He saw the Queen duck into one of the abandoned buildings, apparently intent to explore. Though somewhat worried and uncomfortable, he let her be for now, though resolved he’d keep an even better eye on her from now on. Incidentally, he also saw Xandar go off in another direction, following a couple of viper rats. A mild frown graced his lips, but he did not comment; it was fine with him if the Eyrien went ahead and exterminated the vermin. The Kaeleeran Warlord only hoped Markov had heard and agreed with his suggestion.
Asteria



Conversation with the gnome finished, planning with Ed complete, Mother Rat finally convinced to venture outside, the trio headed outside. As soon as they were out of the barrow, all hell was breaking loose. The cart had made it close enough to be attacked by the staff-wielding lizard, and Asteria memorized the appearance, chant, and feel of the magic, using Magic Analysis on it as well. So much for the plan, she thought as she watched the situation unfold. The scents were too mixed to try and pursue a “purple” one without knowing whom it referred to, so instead, she chose visual inspection to decide on her target. Two bandit humans were approaching the cart from a direction where they would have been likely unobserved – if Ed had not verbally alerted the four travelers. Hopefully, his action would help them, though Asteria suspected such an unexpected third-party intervention may sow chaos and confusion among both the bandits and the travelers.

As for the target she’d decided on, it was the archer. Based on the first arrow’s direction of flight, the archer was behind the barrow. She thought she could get there fast enough to interrupt the second shot, but she worried about the number of enemies she might face – there could be very well more than one hiding there – and about Mother Rat. The creature had not desired to go outside, after all, and was currently still rather confused. Well, there certainly was no way for her to know whom they had decided to attack and why. So, Asteria touched her flank, pushed at the other dire rat’s flank lightly, chittered at her quietly and urgently, and sent across a feeling of companionship and togetherness. Whether that would be enough for the mother to follow her and attack whomever she did or not would yet to be seen. Now, however, Asteria had to race to the barrow’s backside, actively using Muffle II, trying to get there quietly yet swiftly enough to Smash into whoever the archer was before they could let loose another of those blasted arrows at someone.

Collab between
@AlmalthiaBrighid O'Shay
and
@SilverPaw Kathryn Moreno



Brighid had no real concept of time in the swirling mass of colors that became her reality as she leapt into the portal. The change happened so many times that she lost count of how many times it happened. She was tired and sore and to top it off confused. Catching snatches of the outside world didn't help. Finally the madness seemed to end. Or so she thought.

The colors seemed to tear apart and Brighid was thrown onto the ground as the spell collapsed. Lying on the ground in human form she groaned and weakly tried to push herself up. Her arms shook with the effort of doing anything but lying on the ground. Shaking she collapsed back on the ground. Fine. I'll just lay here for a bit.

Her eyes were still a bit blurry and laying on the cool grass seemed like heaven for now. The others could find her later. She'd been through Hell and didn't want to move till her healing kicked in.

As she lay there the sounds and scents of her surroundings came to her. They were unfamiliar to her. A deep seated panic started in the pit of her stomach. She turned her head slowly and opened her eyes.

She recognized nothing. Literally nothing.

There was a black still river that was a few meters away with stone lining it's banks and lanterns hung on a pole casting a strange yellow un-flickering light to the surface. Looking up nearly made her sick but she managed to choke it back down. Bright colors she'd never seen before flashed and pulsed. And that was just the sights.

The sounds. It never stopped. A veritable cacophony of noise. Totally unfamiliar and some frightening at best.

“Jennings, waits,” Kathryn stopped short, raised a palm in the universal ‘stop’ sign, and slowly surveyed the surroundings, seeming to search for something. “There’s a commotion somewhere…there. Not too far from the river. Near the central park, maybe,” she murmured. Darrin’s previously puzzled expression smoothed into urgency, and they dashed, Kat keeping apace of her human co-worker. Within minutes, they were at one of the main paved paths leading into the park. As they ran further in, taking turns toward the path diverting closer to the river-side, it became apparent that a group of people were indeed gathering around something – or rather someone.

A redhead woman was lying on the ground – and she was naked. Also, she was injured, filthy, and covered in blood, though there were suspicious chunks of meat here and there – snagged into her hair, stuck beneath her fingernails, and trails of it around her mouth – but the weirdest thing about this all was the scent. The woman was permeated in a scent so rotten and dark – and utterly unappealing. Underneath all that grime, Kathryn could see that the woman was bruised all over, and especially her chest, sides, and head seemed to be afflicted. That bump could mean a concussion, she thought. She wasn’t comfortable trying to move her, but at the very least she could cover her.

“Hey, has anyone called an ambulance yet?” she called out to the dozen or so others, who were currently being corralled – and questioned – by Jennings. The only answer was a few stunned shakes of heads in the negative, so with a muted sigh, Kathryn first stripped of her police vest, shirt and undershirt (removing any delicate items from it and stuffing them in her trouser pockets), and used the paltry clothing pieces to at least provide the female with some basic decency.

“Miss?” Kathryn questioned, crouching at the female’s side. Honestly, she thought it most likely that she was dealing with a werewolf gone loose – though if that were the case, there certainly would have been reports of victims already. On the other hand, if the woman was a victim herself, this was a strange case indeed. Some of Kat’s confusion was allayed when, after dispersing everyone but the key three witnesses, Jennings stepped to her side and informed her of the evidence gathered so far.

“What that trio over there seemed to agree on was that this female, whoever and whatever she is, seemed to appear out of thin air. Literally. Supposedly, space was ripped open in some sort of a portal or a wormhole or something, and she got thrown out. The rest of the crowd’s babbling was just wild speculation, as you can imagine,” Jennings grumbled.

Kathryn nodded with a frown, and with extreme care and gentleness lay a palm on the back of the woman’s hand, trying to get a feel for her head injury. “If she doesn’t regain consciousness soon, we’re calling an ambulance. And even then, hospitalizing may be the best. We’ll definitely have to question her, though,” she said. Now, she was just waiting to see if the woman would respond or not.

Brighid wished that she wasn't a spectacle for these people. The all sounded odd and were split between being afraid of her and not. Mostly they were giving her a headache. She'd had to fight her healing and keep up appearances that she was still unconscious.

That only made Brighid more aware of the fact that she needed a bath and clothes. Someone came close enough to touch her. Laying something over her and speaking to her. She opened her eyes and turned her head toward the speaker. Her silver gray eyes filled with concern. "Thank you. Where am I?"

Her voice had a strange accent. Not quite British or Scottish or Irish but a combination of the three. It wasn't strange to her though. She'd always sounded that way but to someone hearing her voice that's the closest approximation of a description that one could make of her accent. The tone was soft and warm contralto.

Brighid looked around and slowly let her healing powers work on her body. She'd be better in an hour or so. The … person next to her was a vampire. The one who was hovering over her. She couldn't tell if they were male or female. Colin had long hair and Eliza had short hair at one point. But it was very hard not to notice that the person attempting to help her was a vampire.

Brighid saw nothing inherently wrong with that and thanked her lucky stars that Colin wasn't anywhere around. He'd have gone off the deep end. "Excuse my state of undress and quite apparently the gore on my person. If you could point me to the nearest source of water I would be eternally grateful."

“You are in Duncaster’s largest park,” Kathryn answered. The woman was obviously confused, and her accent was that of a foreigner’s, though from where, Kathryn wasn’t certain. It was similar to how some of the old vampire she’d met sounded, though not quite the same, and she was fairly certain this female was not a vampire. That she did not know where she was proved that she’d somehow been transported – or had transported herself – from elsewhere.

Was someone, presumably outside of Duncaster, casting some strange teleportation magic? Was it a statement? An attack on their city? A failed experiment? A pesky whim or wicked prank? Regardless of the case, they needed to ascertain what this woman knew of it. Her mind seemed to be sound, and it was actually strange that she did not act shocked or confused – apart from the fact that she did not recognize Duncaster, that was. If she had never been here before, however, that in and of itself was not so odd. Her suspicious appearance on the other hand…

“There should be a public bathroom close enough, we can escort you there. Then it would be best if you agreed to come with us to the station. You can have a proper warm shower there, and we’ll even find you a temporary change of clothing. I am afraid that we will have to ask how you came to be in the state that we found you in, and anything you know that caused you to…appear here. I do not believe you to be a criminal, but we have to be cautious nonetheless, you understand?” Kathryn explained politely.

Jennings, meanwhile, had written down all the information the three witnesses could provide as well as their names and contact information in case they would require future details from them, then dismissed them. So, the only ones left in the vicinity were the two police officers, one a female vampire and the other a male human, and the unknown woman. Kathryn blinked twice in quick succession as she considered the fact that, really, getting a name from her should have been the first priority. Perhaps not unexpectedly, she had been distracted by what was a bizarre occurrence even by the standards of this world full of the supernatural.

“Oh, excuse me for my lack of manners. I am Kathryn Moreno, and this here is Darrin Jennings,” she introduced herself and her coworker with a small and perfunctory, but civil smile. “We are both with the Duncaster PD, as you may have already guessed. If you are as unwell as you appear, we can take you to the hospital after you clean up a bit,” the vampire offered.

Brighid blinked and sat up pulling her filthy hair to cover her nakedness. She inclined her head slightly. “Ah yes introductions. My name is Brighid O’Shay. I have never heard of Duncaster before now. I am sorry that was housepital that you just said? Is that where your healers are? How odd. Never mind, I shall not require a healer. Do you carry a blanket or something of the sort so that I can wear it to, what did you call it, yes the station?”

Did that really just come out of my mouth? I mean seriously? I sound way more put together than I feel. All these sensations. The smells, sights, sounds. This place even feels different. If Kathryn was not a vampire I would think I stepped out into Fey Lands. It would just be Oberon’s style to open a doorway and have me walk willingly through it. But the change came and went numerous times. Something is odd here and I intend to find out what as well as find the others.

Brighid looked at the shirt that Kathryn had lain on her. She smirked and noticed that the shirt would probably make her look more indecent. Her hair had been waist length but it fell past her knees now as if she had spent years in the spell. She wiggled her toes and sighed with relief mentally.

Kathryn stared at Brighid blankly for several seconds. The female had professed to have never heard of Duncaster before, she apparently didn’t know what a hospital or police station were, and she’d mentioned healers. “…Just cover yourself with those for now as best you can,” she gestured to the dark blue padded vest, blue collared shirt, and black undershirt she’d covered the female with previously. While she had been striving for nonchalance, hints of confusion had unmistakably seeped into her tone. She briefly gazed at her co-worker. “Jennings, you run to the car and fetch the foil blanket from the first aid kit.” The vampire turned back towards Brighid, offering her a hand up.

“There’s a public restroom a few minutes’ walk from here. There are sure to be more people as we go on, but that really can’t be helped,” Kathryn huffed wryly, but proceeded leading the redhead along the smoothly paved road towards the park’s main entrance. There was a sharp contrast between the dull thuds of her black boots and the soft padding of Brighid’s uncovered feet, but they now shared the trait of being half-naked, though in Kathryn’s case it just meant that her upper half was only covered by a sports bra. The redhead next to her was certainly the worse off, and the vampire walked slightly in front of the mystery woman, using her own body to help cover her from casual observation. Having her back to this possibly dangerous stranger did not do her nerves any good though; her neck was prickling, her shoulders were tense, and she couldn’t help but grimace slightly.

Soon enough, the pair had transitioned from one of the relatively narrow side paths, designed for walking and cycling and jogging, to a wide avenue inlaid with stones – while cars certainly fit, only service vehicles had access to this part, though several feet further, the busy main streets could be seen already. The greenery of the park transitioned into the drab gray of concrete, and here, tucked in between some other buildings, was a public restroom, still part of the park property, though built somewhat on the edge of it. It was a small, low building, painted white, though several graffiti defaced it – but at least its windows weren’t broken. Kathryn led Brighid into one half, where several closed stalls and sinks could be seen. Thankfully, it seemed the building was currently occupied, perhaps not so strange given the late hour and the fact that Jennings had shooed away all those onlookers. The vampire gestured to a sink, presenting the best currently available option for the redhead to wash herself. “Use my clothes to dry off when you’re done,” she suggested with a small, mildly reluctant sigh. Kathryn then leaned her back on the door-frame, keeping a watch on both the female and the outside.

Brighid looked at the basins with the pump and knobs attached. Where is the pump? Brighid looked around and under the basins. With a puzzled look she touched the knobs then looked up into a mirror. This mirror was much smoother and reflected better than any that were not enchanted that she could recall. Staring back at her reflection she grimaced and muttering. She reached out and touched the knobs.

The knobs twisted under her hands and she jumped back as water gushed out of the pump into the basin.

With an entirely puzzled expression on her face, Kathryn approached the possibly-lycan-female, and adjusted the handles so the spout’s spray wasn’t quite violent. “We really do need to talk exactly how and where you were raised that even the most basic of modern of technology is so shocking to you,” the vampire commented with a shake of her head, tone slightly snarky, though her own confusion was obvious enough. Ever since O’Shay had regained consciousness, she’d been intently observing her surroundings, but not just with the purpose to orient herself, Kathryn thought. It was as if even the most mundane things, for example the lights littering the city, were something new and worth of inspection to her. Kathryn had suspected amnesia or simple concussive shock at one point, but…Now she was fairly certain it was more than that.

The woman knew her own name, after all, and communicated clearly, walked without too much of a problem, and didn’t seem on the brink of imminent collapse due to poor health or mental instability. I just hope that giving in to her insistence on not needing a hospital won’t come back to bite me in the ass, later on. It was still possible that Brighid was suffering in some physical and/or mental manner, after all. However, perhaps she had simply been raised in an incredibly restrictive, outdated, techno-phobic environment. Could just be some weird magic going haywire...she did pop through some kind of a portal, didn’t she? Only with information from O’Shay herself, however, could Kathryn hope to come anywhere close to making a firm conclusion.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet