You have a start with him being asked as to where and why he was here. The rest of the party haven't the faintest of why this happened to Greenest given they were all travelling, @Raijinslayer. You might need ask @Hekazu for details there, but it is a start and would give us some insight to the plot.
The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 6 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
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Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
6 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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7 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
7 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
7 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.
Bio
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten
I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.
My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.
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@Raijinslayer, I have a few topics in mind for the time being given the characters share a few themes.
@Kidd, hopefully you are able to post soon?
"That would make that unfortunate for you then." Carver issued his raking reply first and foremost, being aware enough of it to grant added emphasis about the impatient man and him alone.
"I think you would find yourself just caught up again in the events transpiring here. If not by me then by the sheriff's department I reason."
The ante was further upped by the insinuation, almost undoubtedly rightfully so, that things were to become worse rather than better. After all, these incidents had been days ago - nothing akin to them had followed recently. No major changes to the story had been provided, no new killings, no new evidence. It left everything on edge and awaiting on the cusp of disaster. If something did transpire, some other local of Jennings subject to whatever this exactly was, one could only imagine the level of paranoia and damage it could cause.
"That said, feel free to waste your own time." He said, gesturing toward the door with what appeared to be the freedom for the other man to depart.
Carver made no added effort to include Piper in the exchange; she was roped into whatever he was working on with these murders. Or at least as much as she could be without any sort of overt pressure added. The morbid curiosity and unsettling fear of the unknowing growing in the hearts of all present here and in the town itself would do the work. There was something at stake for them all, but for the young woman present? Answers - maybe.
Answers that if lost weren't likely to come around again.
@RedXCross
"I think you would find yourself just caught up again in the events transpiring here. If not by me then by the sheriff's department I reason."
The ante was further upped by the insinuation, almost undoubtedly rightfully so, that things were to become worse rather than better. After all, these incidents had been days ago - nothing akin to them had followed recently. No major changes to the story had been provided, no new killings, no new evidence. It left everything on edge and awaiting on the cusp of disaster. If something did transpire, some other local of Jennings subject to whatever this exactly was, one could only imagine the level of paranoia and damage it could cause.
"That said, feel free to waste your own time." He said, gesturing toward the door with what appeared to be the freedom for the other man to depart.
Carver made no added effort to include Piper in the exchange; she was roped into whatever he was working on with these murders. Or at least as much as she could be without any sort of overt pressure added. The morbid curiosity and unsettling fear of the unknowing growing in the hearts of all present here and in the town itself would do the work. There was something at stake for them all, but for the young woman present? Answers - maybe.
Answers that if lost weren't likely to come around again.
@RedXCross
One of several I imagine @Carantathraiel, but if I were to wager who it is, she's one I am most fond of for her realism. I enjoy commissioning my various characters through a select few for the quality. However, I am most honored you're displaying these pieces to others - I take great pride in them.
Historically referred to as the "Great Northern American" or Homo sapiens canadiansis.
It took little rousing beyond the touch of pure primal nature to bring the wounded man to and it took even less convincing from the blade bearing warrior-healer to stand him to his feet. At first, arm draped about the shoulder of the stranger, the man hobbled himself on one foot in pride but succumb to the numbing pain of his injured foot. Whatever had been torn asunder and broken in it was, now by otherworldly means, redeemed into one but that did little to ease what lingering, dull injuries persisted. To call them a point of soreness was to say it in the most mundane of ways, but the guardsmen bit his tongue and allowed himself to be walked into the den of the dying.
The air was sickly, offensive in its own right with caked, old blood and the general malaise of those who were too doomed to recover from the wounds they sustained - incense or not, albeit its attempts to thwart this place's ambiance were keenly noted. It was not for lack of trying at that, evident to the outlander as he poured over them and their company with his eyes. The wounded man leaning against the other warrior's heavy frame as support worked his hands to the stone wall and helped himself to sitting in a corner, removing his coif and undoing pieces of his armor. The guard's breathless thanks was more than the huntsman needed, but Brannor granted a stern yet approving nod before withdrawing. Turning with a slide on the chalky stone floor in his traveled leather boots, he noted the dwarf at work.
It was not far off he could see the man-orc leaving either, wandering about with a dry rag and dapping away the stains of his injuries. There would be time to cleanse himself of his blood, more so the foul attackers' blood and how it stained him; here, in this city now ablaze, was not the time or place. It pained him to be so cut off from his source, both externally and internally. How it wished to be more forward - how much more it could do in this hour.
"Were you here when these vermin set upon the city, dwarf?" Brannor asked plainly, adjusting his armor to look over the now well healed dagger wounds and the scar upon his neck.
@Raijinslayer@Hekazu
The air was sickly, offensive in its own right with caked, old blood and the general malaise of those who were too doomed to recover from the wounds they sustained - incense or not, albeit its attempts to thwart this place's ambiance were keenly noted. It was not for lack of trying at that, evident to the outlander as he poured over them and their company with his eyes. The wounded man leaning against the other warrior's heavy frame as support worked his hands to the stone wall and helped himself to sitting in a corner, removing his coif and undoing pieces of his armor. The guard's breathless thanks was more than the huntsman needed, but Brannor granted a stern yet approving nod before withdrawing. Turning with a slide on the chalky stone floor in his traveled leather boots, he noted the dwarf at work.
It was not far off he could see the man-orc leaving either, wandering about with a dry rag and dapping away the stains of his injuries. There would be time to cleanse himself of his blood, more so the foul attackers' blood and how it stained him; here, in this city now ablaze, was not the time or place. It pained him to be so cut off from his source, both externally and internally. How it wished to be more forward - how much more it could do in this hour.
"Were you here when these vermin set upon the city, dwarf?" Brannor asked plainly, adjusting his armor to look over the now well healed dagger wounds and the scar upon his neck.
@Raijinslayer@Hekazu
Not to post twice in a row here, @Hekazu, but do you have any reaction from the roused guard or would you rather Brannor just bring him with him and skirt the issue of his character altogether?
Carver's cold, disdainfully aloof reaction to both of them was the silent scribing of what appeared to be incoherent notes; a few visible acronyms, strange patternistic dialogue. Nothing worth trying to read at the moment as to who else short of the outsider could read it - if at all - was a perfectly valid question. He seemed to nod, keeping tabs on the way they phrased things, their demeanor; Chris' reaction provoked more interest initially, getting a bit more recorded, but it soon moved to the woman. She seemed to stumble uneasily through recollection, but not wrongfully in the slightest. They were discussing the strange, with the both of them before Carver holding an unusually common trend they might not have ever realized otherwise... in particular given their earlier interaction.
The pen came to a halt and the man behind the glasses looked to them both with the same blankness of a calculating machine. It was eerie, emotionless and vaguely hollow. His eyes couldn't be seen, but they could be felt just as much now as they had been before. The sort of feeling one might get when they're being looked deeper into than they would ever prefer.
"Seems there's an ongoing lack of rationality here." Carver's pen laid itself to the hand of notes while he spoke, crossed by his thumb.
Free hand adjusting the sunglasses under the fluorescent lighting that permeated the evidence room, Carver proved to look first at the other man then slowly back to the other company in the form of Piper. He said nothing for the moment, allowing the ambience to settle in - almost prying for more to be said. They seemed to add nothing, but he made no effort to press. Again he took the pen, added something else, then returned it by its clip to his pocket and the pad itself to the other.
"I don't like what you're suggesting, perhaps as much as you both don't for your own various reasons," He started before addressing the creases of his worn olive coat's sleeves, "But there's one more person I want to hear from."
The process of thought was self explanatory, but he kept it going as his fingers adjusted the jacket more at the intricate tattoos of the upper arms; the right bore a whirling darkness interwoven with a pantherine cat, the left displayed only the point of a larger blade flanked by olive boughs and broken arrows. When he finished, they almost disappeared again, yet he never ceased his conversation with them in the tiny, unsettlingly close environment to the grisly pictures and what they brought to the forefront of mind.
"I am going to ask you don't lead him. Can you do that?" Carver said, his posture relaxing.
There was too much left unsaid, too well was that taken, and too unsettling was it that these various qualities began to merge.
@Kidd@RedXCross
The pen came to a halt and the man behind the glasses looked to them both with the same blankness of a calculating machine. It was eerie, emotionless and vaguely hollow. His eyes couldn't be seen, but they could be felt just as much now as they had been before. The sort of feeling one might get when they're being looked deeper into than they would ever prefer.
"Seems there's an ongoing lack of rationality here." Carver's pen laid itself to the hand of notes while he spoke, crossed by his thumb.
Free hand adjusting the sunglasses under the fluorescent lighting that permeated the evidence room, Carver proved to look first at the other man then slowly back to the other company in the form of Piper. He said nothing for the moment, allowing the ambience to settle in - almost prying for more to be said. They seemed to add nothing, but he made no effort to press. Again he took the pen, added something else, then returned it by its clip to his pocket and the pad itself to the other.
"I don't like what you're suggesting, perhaps as much as you both don't for your own various reasons," He started before addressing the creases of his worn olive coat's sleeves, "But there's one more person I want to hear from."
The process of thought was self explanatory, but he kept it going as his fingers adjusted the jacket more at the intricate tattoos of the upper arms; the right bore a whirling darkness interwoven with a pantherine cat, the left displayed only the point of a larger blade flanked by olive boughs and broken arrows. When he finished, they almost disappeared again, yet he never ceased his conversation with them in the tiny, unsettlingly close environment to the grisly pictures and what they brought to the forefront of mind.
"I am going to ask you don't lead him. Can you do that?" Carver said, his posture relaxing.
There was too much left unsaid, too well was that taken, and too unsettling was it that these various qualities began to merge.
@Kidd@RedXCross
I'll involve myself as well to keep things moving tomorrow evening when I am available.
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