CoB OOC <----All join requests and OOC go here.

“In Brays, many things can happen. There are places in this wide universe that anything can happen. Not in Brays. Here only most things can happen. Most things do happen, as a matter of fact, ‘ere in Brays.”

We say odd things happen around these parts. You might have a storm in Faydor that doesn’t touch Illiad. You might have drought in Major and floods in Minor. There are marshes that sit alongside desserts, tropical trees in the middle of coniferous forests. The people here are of all sorts. Demons, angels, trolls, humans, elves an odd vampire or two. Lots of things and people we don’t even know about. They make a fuss of it in the Capital, wondering about the inns and outs of things. But here in Faydor, mostly, we mind our business. We like to make a bit of cash, we like to live a comfortable life. Me, I’ve owned this bar for more than forty years. Heard some things that would even make a well versed Braysen twitch. People have been to Spirits and back…people have done all sorts of things. You want I should tell you about them? Who them? You know who. Well, I’ll tell you if you don’t, y’see it all started with King whatsisname…”

In the year Twenty Eight of King Victor the Second’s reign, he was stabbed and killed by his own brother, the Duke of Crown. This caused quite an uproar among the people since the Prince was only fourteen and no one liked him anyhow. He was a cruel and vicious boy, an utter narcissist and sadist. He grew angry at his father’s death and captured his Uncle and tortured him until he died from it. This did not sate his desire for revenge, however and he went on to capturing and torturing his uncle’s entire family including his wife and three children. The wife died easily under this stress, the children, however, lasted quite some time, until one day he noticed all of a sudden that he thought his cousin was very beautiful and that they should marry. Well, his cousin agreed that she was beautiful but not that they should marry, for a plethora of obvious reasons. She stayed until her both her little brother were killed and then something snapped inside of her and she broke loose. Apparently she was psychic and telekinetic. Who knew? Certainly not her.

So she went abroad, thirsting for knowledge after her long imprisonment. She came eventually to the small town of Sventon. A search for a suitably middle sized Tavern Lead her to the Deadfish Inn, owned by a squirrelly old bastard named Corgie. It was here that she met an odd collection of Braysens (and some arguably not Braysen at all) that she coerced into traveling with her on her mission. What was this mission? Time will yield the answers to patient travelers.

The travelers, beside the girl, include many odd fellows. The first of these is a mercenary, tall with a look in the face of a gentle giant. His mind is an open book, to those who can read it, and he bears the scars of many past battles. Such a brute is not usually so amicable. Another mercenary joins him. His humor is of a sharper sort, and seems vaguely obsessive over cold hard coin. He is the dark figure you always see lurking in the corners, but he’ll be tempted out with a coin, a fine looking lady, or even a good time.

With them also is the mysterious winged rose. She speaks little but says much with her eyes. Her thoughts are barred from access and it causes you to wonder what such a lovely demonic looking girl has to hide? And then there’s Asters, so dubbed in favor over his original title of KX4 Property. He is such a confused individual, his mind like a vast empty library. A heart full of good intentions and his immediate thinking full of confusion and fear. He has a propensity to fits of violent rage, and endearing affection.

They head South on the marrow, through Ivex, if the weather permits.

Rules:
1. All gateway rules of course.
2. Do not post OOC comments in this thread. Make sure your signatures are turned off when you post.
3. Read all previous posts carefully before responding. NO SKIMMING!
4. Be careful to be consistent. Stay in character and don't event weapons or skills that you didn't have in the beginning. I have everything recorded and I WILL KNOW.
5. Be flexible and creative. There are only so many original ideas I can come up with on my own! Just keep with rule four when you make things up. If you have any ideas for something cool or interesting to happen in any situation, just pm me and I will take it into consideration. I am flexible too!

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"Oh, by the way!" The barman shuffled up and dropped a huge dusty tome on the bar. "Here's a directory. Feel free to thumb through it, get some bounds on ya'. It's not complete by any means. But it's a magic one. It changes itself when it figgers new stuff out. Nifty, eh?" he chuckled and hobbled away.

Table of Contents
X Story and Rules
X The Land
X Races and Creatures
X Town Index
X Characters

The Key:
t-town; c-city; g-gulf; r-river; C-capital; f-forest; l-lake; d-desert; p-plains; i-island; m-marsh; M-mountains

1- Sventon (t)
2-Golden (g/r)
3- Durandal Range(M)
4- Ivex (f)
5- Storry (t)
6- Laurie (t)
7- Neider (t)
8- Aider (t)

9- Menshivik (t)
10- Bulshar (t)
11- Elsar (c)
!2- Tartwik (c)
13- Kane (c)
14- North (t)
15- River Major/ Delta Major/ Gulf major (r/d/g)
16- The Sands (d)
17- Lake City (c)
18- Lake (l)
19- Far Plains (p)
20- West City (c)

21- Metric Islands (i)
22- Flor (t)
23- Brecie lake and River (l/r)
24- Brecker (t)
25- South (c)
26- Irridor (c)
27- Bain’s Marsh (c/m)
28- Lune lake and Isle (l/i)
29- Cliffton (t)
30- Tor (C)
31- Terra Range (M)
32- Woodworn (t)
33- Ende (t) on Little Lake (l)
34- Easton (t)
35- Illiad (c)
36- Smithson (t)
37- Hamlet (t)
38- Merricliff (cliff that divides the highland from the lowland)
39- Drindel (r)
40- Royal (r)

*The cliffs raise the highlands above the sea level, but as you reach the area north of the Terras, you are back at sea level. The land on the highlands is rather flat and level, whereas the lowlands of Brays Major contains many sets valleys and hills.

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Table of Contents
X Story and Rules
X The Land
X Races and Creatures
X Town Index
X Characters

Creature Index:

Arachnid- (s/m/l) All forms of spider creatures, from spider hybrids to the many intelligent races of regular spiders in various sizes.
BugBear- A large brown bear with six legs. It has huge bug eyes and prehensile pincers that are used for cutting plants and twigs and shoving them into it's mouth. It has little wings on it's back, although it can't fly for obvious reasons. They make mostly bear noises, although when happy they make a purr that sounds like buzzing.
Cat- (s/m/l) Includes all variations.
Centaur- Half man half horse. Very proud creatures known for archery and keen intellect. They tend to keep to themselves.
Bannik- Bathhouse spirit, usually mischievous, sometimes evil. (Think what kind of spirit it takes to haunt a bathhouse)
Basan- Fire-breathing chicken
Basilisk- A huge snake whose gaze can kill.
Bray- A majestic mix between a horse and a gazelle, they are bigger than a gazelle and stronger but can jump like one. Normally their fur is a silvery white and they have no manes and their tales are a short stub. Their eyes are wise and golden and some believe that they think more than animals normally do. Some of these species can be speckled gray or brown. They are almost never blueish black, although it happens. They are a symbol of good luck and revered among all the people of Brays, though no one is sure exactly why.
Crab- (s/m/l) A shelled creature that lives in both water and on land.
Chakora- A lunar Bird
Demon- Creature of the underworld who has lost their soul, either during their life or from never having been born with one. They can be good, although it doesn't usually happen, since without souls it is rare for them to develop a conscience.
Egbere- Humanoid that carries a magical mat.
Wolf- (s/m/l) Dog like pack animals, often vicious in nature.
Dog- (s/m/l) Domesticated wolf, loyal and highly trainable.
Dragon- (s/m/l) Rare creature that is never seen anymore. There are many variations, of which many stories are told. As far as is known, there are none left alive.
Drow- A vicious elf who has lost part of their soul due to excessive cruelty or larger crimes.
Dwarf- A mountain dwelling creature who is not seen much underground. Several areas hold a high prejudice against them, born of their abrasive nature.
Elemental- creatures made from the elements who have humanoid souls for one reason or another. Often baby gods.
Elf- Humanoid creature that is slimmer and more graceful than humans. Prefers to use intellect rather than physical force when possible, which has led them to the arts of magic, in which they are very keen.
Fae- Seelie and Unseelie. Courts of creatures with high amounts of magic in their blood. Illusion and seduction magic is second nature to them, although there are some types of magic they simply cannot do.
Fish- (s/m/l) Legless creatures of the water who breath through gills. Some have teeth and adore human flesh.
Gargoyle- A human who gives their life over to protection of a place can become, through unknown means, a gargoyle. They become immeasurably stronger and grow wings, but are cursed to be stone by day. Some in Brays call it a workaholics curse.
Ghost- Spirit of a person who has died and has not moved on.
Ghoul- Medium powered powered shape shifting minor demon. The creature also preys on young children, robs graves, and eats the dead.
Giant- Giant version of a humanoid.
Gnome- Tiny people, like fairies but with no wings. Have a lot of minor tricks they can perform, including teleporting over small distances.
Golem- Something originally inanimate that is given a consciousness through magic. Bound to the purpose given by it's creator during creation. Can only die of the purpose is fulfilled, or if the inscriptions are destroyed.
Goblin- Smaller cousins of trolls. They are also close cousins to humans, but humans deny this tie, saying that they are far too ugly to be related. Goblins say the same. Goblins lack many of human's higher functioning reasoning skills, and while they are perfectly adept at individual math problems, they would have trouble connecting the dots and applying it flexibly in other situations. They are greenish in tint and rather short and have long limbs, giving them a the look of a squashed spider. They love to have things and things tend to define their worth, even if they are not worthwhile things. (They tend to collect their garbage which explains the smell)
Griffon- A lion with an eagle head and eagle wings and claws. They are rather docile, but if they feel threatened they will rip you to shred with surprising speed and agility and obvious power. They understand human language quite well, but their mouths are not developed to speak it, nor would many of them care to.
Grigori- Fallen Angels.
Halfling- Like humans, only smaller. Tend to prefer routine, even while adventuring. Their fingers are longer than humans and they are very adept at weaving and crafting and other things that require nimble fingers.
Harpy- Half vulture half woman, known for both hating and craving males and their foul language and nature.
Hawk- (s/m/l) A bird of prey. Cooperative, but independent. When respected they can be very trainable.
Hellhound- A demonic dog, typically have features such as an unnaturally large size, a black fur color, glowing red eyes, super strength or speed, ghostly or phantom characteristics, and sometimes even the ability to talk. Hellhounds may have fire-based abilities and appearances. They are given various duties and are the loyal servants of demons.
Human- Humans are of medium height and build and are known mostly for their flexibility. While they have no talent that is natural to them, they also have no options that are barred to them. They are the dominating race in Brays and have held Kingship of the area for fifteen generations, before which it was rumored to be held by the dwarfs.
Hydra- A massive water beast with many heads that sailors have seen and none have ever been able to kill. It has a morbid sense of humor and loves to toy with ships, although it can sometimes be convinced to release it's captives, especially if you give it a laugh.
Kobold- Small dog-like creature that loves shiny things. They are somewhat intelligent, yet spend most of their time bickering. When attacked by a group of kobolds, you are sure to die, since they are blood thirsty and feel virtually no pain and can take quite a lot of damage...unless they start bickering, in which case stay quiet and sneak away.
Mouth- Fabled creature.
Mammoth- Larger than elephants most know of and harry. They are gentle plant eaters but will defend their territory if threatened. They have large tusks made of ivory.
Minotaur- Like a centaur, but wilder and with only the hind legs. They tend to be oversexed and aggressive. They prefer to use their physical strength, but also have the same intellect as centaurs, and are particularly dangerous when they stop to use it.
Naga- Shape shifting snake creatures with complex rules and heirarchies. They tend to be a matriarchal society and lash out quickly when they feel threatened.
Nymph- Spirits of the trees. They are born of a specific tree and cannot live if that tree dies, and visa versa. They are very in tune with nature, and while they are not the whores they are usually depicted to be, they tend to think of sex more like animals do than humans, and often misunderstand human customs. This leads to confusion since there are virtually no physical differences between nymphs and humans and they are often mistaken for human. The specific tree they are born of gives them specific power over nature.
Odon- Large thick-skinned herbivores charge at the sight of humans and the sound of gunfire. They look much like rhinoceroses but are much larger.
Peacock- (s/m/l) A proud and vain bird with brilliant feathers.
Scorpion- (s/m/l) A vicious and poisonous creature who lives in desert areas.
Sea Snake- (gliding) A cross between and eel a flying squirrel. They are carnivorous and like to eat birds. They do this by launching themselves out of the water, after which they can glide for up to a minute or two, during which time they are extremely fast and maneuverable. Groups of them often attack humans further out from shore where birds are scarce, since they don't like eating fish much.
Shadow- Malicious spirits normally asleep. They are the darkness that follows you which can be awakened under certain circumstances.
Shark- (s/m/l) Large boneless carnivores with various types of temperaments.
Skeleton- The corpse of a dead person that has been animated temporarily by magic. They can remain animated for a certain time after the caster has left, especially if they leave runes to keep the spell going. Less flexible than golems and an easier spell to do.
Sparrow- (s/m/l) Bird.
Spirit- Anything with a consciousness and no body.
Troglodyte- Reptilian humans who love to kill for the sport of it. They live in small bands.
Troll- Over large brutish humans with very small brains and large stomachs.
Turtle- Shelled animal, who is slow, but also the single most determined and long remembering creature known anywhere.
Tiefling- A demon who either managed to capture half a soul, or only managed to lose half of theirs.
Unicorn- A horned creature with great ability in areas of pure magic, related to virgins and innocents and all that. Their fur is completely waterproof and their hair never breaks of wound into a cord. Their teeth make good tools and their blood has many magical uses. Their lives are the embodiment of hopes and dreams and they are ironically valuable when killed.
Vampire- (s/m/l) A dead creature who lives by drinking blood from others. Cannot stand direct contact with the sun as they burn very easily (can be lit on fire this way) and develop skin cancer at the drop of a hat. They have no souls, but they remember their soul and tend to long for it more than demons and cling to human things. They can only be killed by removing their heart or their head. Special implements must by used (not necessarily wood or silver) to cut through their tough skin.


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Table of Contents
X Story and Rules
X The Land
X Races and Creatures
X Town Index
X Characters

Sventon- A fishing and merchant town. Attracts a lot of travelers. It is on the Golden Gulf, which has strange magical properties. Every so often it turns gold and while it is gold, no fish can be caught or killed.
Storry- Extremely quiet town where all business happens behind closed doors. The people are human and virtually magicless. They are a tight nit community that frowns upon anyone bing different. Very religious to the god of Agrella, who brings peace and successful crops they do NOT eat seafood.
Laurie- Not much different from Sventon, considered by some to be more morally depraved. Concentrated population of thieves and prostitution and whore houses.
Neider- Sister city to Aider. Has more Elves than the northern cities, but not as many as Aiden. It is the artistic center of Faydor and contains various craft guilds (which get raided quite frequently).
Aider- Where the duke of Faydor lives. Manages to be a bit more laid back than the other towns, but still has underlying tones of debauchery.
Tor- The capital city of the land of Brays. It is by far the largest city and is fairly hoidy toity. There is a large focus on study, both mental and magical and it has quite a few schools for those who are rich enough to attend. It is very capitalistic, and lacks all racial prejudiced. This is probably not for the right reasons though...All in all, citizens are happy with this capital, it's not as bad as it has been and certainly not as bad as it could be. Taxes remain fairly low and citizens are allowed to live out their private lives greatly without hassle.
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Table of Contents
X Story and Rules
X The Land
X Races and Creatures
X Town Index
X Characters

The Adventurers:


The Enemy:

Prince Evander. Spoiled and vindictive, just like his father. Killed his Aunt and Uncle for their assassination of his father. Tortured his cousins. After torturing them for some time, he decided to marry the eldest cousin, Alice. He disappeared shortly after she escaped.

Friends and Family:


Others:

Jeriko- Barman, master story teller, and owner of the Dead Fish Inn in the town of Sventon.
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Table of Contents
X Story and Rules
X The Land
X Races and Creatures
X Town Index
X Characters





The first gold time of the day came at sunrise, and sleepy fisherman groaned and shuffled their way to the docks to begin their days work, earning cold hard gold. The air was thickly laid with fog that the sun failed to penetrate through. For several hours, Alice had been awake, despite the lateness of the hour she had began sleeping at. Her bray was packed and she had several others ready, hoping that all travelers would depart with her. She needed each of them, for reasons she had eluded to the previous day. It was going to be dangerous, certainly, but this was not scholarly venture. Those papers meant more than knowing history, though she would only tell them that if it was necessary.

She would need to keep her cards hidden for the time being, and hope that she had chosen wisely. She stretched and yawned and a wisp of her hair fell into her face. It was a dark brown color and she tucked it hurriedly out of sight before reaching into a pouch that was hidden under her purple cloak and pulling out a vial. Tipping it back, she took in a swallow of it's contents and had to force herself to not make a face. It was wretched tasting, but it worked and the brown intensified until it was the appropriate color of blueish black.

After this she settled to wait.

The Sun rose. Its rays blessed the Earth with their presence. The town bustled to life, making one stranger feel very uneasy. People ran around, bumping into him without any sign of stopping. "Ex... Excuse me... Excuse me, sir, ma-am," his voice gently left his lips, as he walked through the busy crowded market.

His destination was the Tavern. He knew someone was awaiting his arrival, he could feel it. The sense to move along with the crowd grew ever so stronger, but he had to force himself on, pushing and pulling every step of the way. He regretted every second of it - his ways, to be a gentlemen to everyone, were being toyed with.

After a couple of ruthless hours of pushing, pulling and tossing people around, Jeeves reached his destination. The bag that weighed him down seemed to loose its weight. Maybe it was because he was now calm and composed, or someone had mugged him. He couldn't care. "Well, time to begin."

He entered the Tavern, opening the door for sunlight to embrace the Tavern. "Hello," he said with a smile.

Alice was seated at a table inside by that time and she stood as Jeeves entered. She gave a little dip of her head and swept back her cloak on one side to offer her hand, quite a gesture for one who didn't like physical contact very much. If they were going to be traveling together, she had better get used to it she supposed. There would be many days of simply riding and these people would be her companions. Still, she had come this far alone, so what did it really matter. Her shrewd eyes were on his face. There was something odd about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Where are you from?" she asked suddenly, "Your attitude seems consistent with a Mid Northerner, but your garb is closer, though not completely, that of those from the South. Where do you call home that raised you so strange?" While her mission was still in mind, she was curious about him.

"Whaddaya mean just give you the finest steel I've got?! I'll have you know that this is imported specially from Tartwick, and it didn't come cheap! Damn youngsters nowadays can't appreciate..."

Within the ashy confines of the smithy, Gunther rubbed his temples in a sordid attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his head. As each second passed, he felt an exponentially increasing urge to just shoot the cranky old blacksmith in the face. His hand twitched once towards his rifle's trigger, but he managed to keep it in check. Inhaling deeply, resisting the reflex to cough out the smoke in his lungs, he tried to reason with the metalworker again.

"Sir, ah don't mean no disrespect or any of the sort. Ah used t'work in a smithy too, and ah know how hard it is to come by a nice hunk o' metal that one can really work in comfort with. Ah'd be more than happy to let you forge the bullets, but you gotta understand, ah'm a bit pressed fer time here. So how much will it be fer the metal again?" Gunther reached into his pocket, ready to hand out the necessary amount of coins. The blacksmith just looked at him incredulously.

"You worthless coward! I wouldn't give you my metal for all the gold in the world, goddamn gunslingers can't fight like men! Had you told me you wanted a sword, or a mace, or anything else that slices like how a real weapon should, then I'd have obliged! Now get outta my workshop," the aging relic ranted, flecks of spit flying about. As he turned his back towards Gunther, the hunter sighed, and unslung his rifle, gripping it with both hands.

One minute later, Gunther had filled his pack with the silvery bars, placed a bag full of coins on a nearby table. The blacksmith lay on the floor, a nice bruise on his head where Gunther had slammed the butt of his rifle into the senior citizen's cranium. Rubbing his neck in feigned guilt, Gunther chuckled, and prepared another smokeleaf for consumption. "Wish ah didn't have to do that, old man, but you've gotta get with the program." With that parting repertoire, he left the smithy, and made his way back to the rendezvous point.

A hand held itself in front of Jeeves' chest. It beckoned a shake, but something didn't seem right. She didn't look like a person who would shake a mans hand or give a hug to her closest friend. She looked different. But, being the gentlemen that he is, Jeeves took the hand, bent down to his knees and gave it a short, sensual kiss. The hand was cold. Signs of agitation ran rampant as his lips left the woman's hand. She feared something.

Before he could completely compose himself, the woman flung many questions into his face. None of these questions showed signs of disrespect towards him, but the feeling still loomed in the arid tavern air nonetheless. "Your attitude seems consistent with a Mid Northerner, but your garb is closer, though not completely, that of those from the South. Where do you call home that raised you so strange?" she asked in quick succession.

He took a glance at the woman, smiled lightly before seating himself down on the nearest chair he could find. "My past is of no concern to you nor your mission, my lady. And if you are to know of my past, then you are to learn of my present, before my future reveals itself," he said, looking up at the woman, "As time is my friend and my enemy, for I have breached its contract and loom in its deity clasp."

Alice's eyes narrowed imperceptibly as Jeeves knelt and kissed her hand. Being the paranoid creature that she is, she assumed the worst of intentions. Also, she realized the irony of her calling him strange. Her own features were perfectly abstract, unnaturally pointed and stretched as if molded by a maker not quite aware of true human proportions. With this in mind she let her question drop. Curiosity was a dangerous emotion, but it remained the only one she had not managed to keep herself from...that and wrath. A deep seething anger and bitterness boiled underneath her skin, hidden under layers upon layers of apathy.

This was her world, a curious and angry place, disguised as an empty field. She pulled out a pocket watch from beneath her cloak and inspected it.

"The others should be here shortly," she announced quietly. Her eyes drifted around the room as she made this comment, landing on Jeriko, the barman, who gave her an unfriendly smile that was much more like a grimace. In return, she gave him her wide grin that stretched her face beyond all physical possibility. Jeriko's nose wrinkled and he suppressed a shudder and turned back to his morning checklist.

Having silenced his questioner, Jeeves took a glance at the barman, who frisked at the sight of his well kept body. Nothing was more atrocious than a man clean of dirt, sooth and the daily wear and tear of life. People worked to live, and lived to work. Jeeves was different. His clothing's showing no signs of either. Clean as a whistle, some may put it.

A glance of uneasy befell onto the back of his neck, as a group of strangers from within bore a hole through his conscience, trying to get some attention, or so it seemed. An annoying stare it was, for it brought back devious memories of Jeeves' past. A past he would happily leave behind in a hole.

Turning back at the lady in front of him, Jeeves narrowed his eyes, sized her up before revealing his pearly whites once again, in an attempt to be friendly. His smile was crooked, but, this time, it seemed as if he had done it. He didn't know. With his fangs still bearing, he said "FF- Whath, ish your namesh...?"

"My name?" Alice wondered, frowning in distaste. It was gross misconduct that they were not previously introduced. She shifted slightly from foot to foot and then was still before putting one foot a step behind and sweeping down in an elegant curtsy/bow. As she returned to an upright position she introduced herself. "I am Alice. My surname has been lost, so it is of little consequence."

Her shrewd eyes surveyed the details of his personage, memorizing him for future calculation. Her eyes slid subtly over his immaculate appearance and his expressions in all their variance. She doesn't offer her hand in greeting, but stands staring in an a stance that is unidentifiable due to her cloak.

"Hopefully we shall be able to move along quickly," she was beginning to become impatient and a hint of this emotion made it to her face, causing it to twitch just slightly.

Black surroundings in his head. A faint beating inside of his chest. Noises, so many noises...

His back had been split open by something, opening scars that stretches across his entire back. It looked as if Asterse was some sort of lab rat. The night before, his falling, his wounds. Everything is almost all a blur to him, again.

He tries to move but is unaware of where he had been placed after being knocked out. He lets out a few grunts of pain as he squirms arouns on the floor. He raises his legs up and kicks them out. The kick collides into an object around him, making a rather large racket that could be heard within the vicinity.

He wasn't aware where he was, who he was, or what is happening to him. His memories of last night are deep in the back of his mind. He needs to spark his memory. He needs his small ounce of idenity back.

Her gloved hand caught hold of the tree, fingers running smoothly down the bark, intricately following the natural grooves and crevices. It was decently aged, about the size of a man in thickness, with branches starting about twelve feet off the ground. And yet, as her amethyst gaze swiveled around the surrounding forest, it was but a tiny sapling compared to it’s neighbors. But that’s what made it beautiful, this tree; the fact that it was still growing, still morphing, it still had youth pouring from every pore. It made her smile, the thought that something so sturdy, so robust, could still change; yet, it always stayed rooted in the same place and therefore always retained a piece of its originality. But no matter what, the world around that tiny tree would have an affect upon it until its roots dried up, and it slipped into an unrecoverable slumber.

She had to keep moving. It was growing later and later, the silver moon slinking over the horizon to claim the sun’s position. She needed to find a safe residence for the night, or at least a cave of some sort. With silence, Enid maneuvered through the Woodworn Forest, refusing to take the path that laid only two yards to her left. She felt so much more at peace crunching along the unused woodland terra: she was surrounded by nature, by all things of earthly order. Such complexity, and yet simplicity.

Her fingertips grabbed gently at the passing foliage as she headed towards the town of Woodworn; it was some ways off in a northeasterly direction. She had been walking all day, her sapphire cloak tied tight about her elvish frame, hood high to block out the harsh rays of the sun, and to keep her visage hidden from any possible passersby. She had made good time on foot and was only a few miles away from the city itself.

And so she trudged on, quietly contemplating the array of forestry before her, taking in the serene calm and silence. But what brought true happiness to her hidden facial was the odd call of the crow, or the crash of a running doe. It was the random breaks in the noiseless surroundings that reminded Enid that it was all alive, all changing, and all beautiful. And as day morphed into night, she grew ever more thankful for the nearing village. She saw the few burning lights that remained as a beacon to steer herself by.

She skirted by the town, however, her lithe form distracted by a miraculous sound. She headed further north, clambering about to get to the undulating music as quickly as possible. It took her but a few minutes to traverse up a small hill before the whole amazing sight fell before her grateful gaze: the ocean. It brought tears to her eyes as she stood in awe. Gently, ever so gently, she wrapped her fingers about the hem of her hood and allowed the fabric to be brought down, resting light against her back. She wanted an unobstructed view as she cautiously made her way down to the sand, her boots digging deep into the miniscule granules.

She stood in complete silence some ten feet away from the rushing waves, eyes cast out among the watery expanse. The wind had picked up the closer she had dared walk towards the sea, her waist length blue tresses kicking up and displaying themselves in a waving dance for the first time in months. And as she stood there, arms hugging her own body, she smiled. Very few people would have noticed the change in her lower visage -- if there had been anyone around to have looked, of course. For, although she had braved revealing her oddly hued eyes and hair, she would never unknot the mask that covered half her face unless absolutely necessary. The teal satin was stretched from her mid nose down to underneath her chin, pulled tight to reveal the basic form of her slender face, and knotted at the base of her skull. Because of its clinginess, hints of her lips and their movements could be seen beneath the silky fabric, but no true definition.

Did she dare to step forward? She would have been showing the same reckless behavior that got her eternally removed from her home village. Walking into unknown waters in the dead of night with no one there to watch out for you… it sounded deliciously wonderful. With a quick survey about to make sure no one was near, Enid untied her cloak and dropped it in the soft sand. She hurriedly undid her boots and propped them against the puddle of fabric along with her gloves. She wiggled her toes, pushing the edgy granules between each one before she eased forward, bare feet testing the water.

Her white and sapphire dress clung to her mid-thighs, so she had no worries of soaking her clothing as she inched onward. She squatted a bit, dragging her fingertips along the tops of the recurring waves. It was so soothing, so therapeutic. She stood there for an unknown amount of time, just letting the water hit her repeatedly, eyes glancing as far out as they could see, watching the moon dance upon the waves.

She turned, her form stiffening after some time; tiredness had slowly taken over her form. She headed in, taking as long as possible, feet dragging along the ground, creating two thin paths once she was upon the sand again. She walked around her dropped clothing, wanting the view as she reclothed herself. She had a boot in one hand, her form bent at the waist to slip it back on, when an unfathomable pain, coupled with a popping sound, slammed into the back of her head. She didn’t have time to comprehend what had happened; the blackness had seeped in completely before she hit the sand. She rolled a few times, her limp form sprawled along the beach, blue locks wildly about her form like some angry octopus, purple eyes closed lightly. She laid there, all night, alone. And as the sun burned into the horizon, showering the earth with its rays, she still was unable to bring herself out of the darkness.

Reaper scanned his surroundings, the tree line was not far off and there was a faint rustle as a small breeze drifted through the small patch of woods near the base of the mountains. He was drawing closer to his target… he remembered there was an extra bag of silver in it for him if he brought her in… alive. Ahead he spotted a small clearing, it reeked of shifters but the scent was several days old. He approached silently, one hand hidden within his cloak, resting on the butt of his crossbow, eyes constantly scanning around for any movements. The breeze picked up, carying traces of salt as it drifted through the earthen woods.

True peace and serenity filled the area around him, the blades of grass even giving a small dance in the air flashing their green and silver sides to the world. Clouds passed overhead, white and clear… better than the rain that plagued his movements a few weeks back. A shadow flickered. With the slightest grace he slipped behind a tree and peaked into the clearing. A worn bag of coins lay, tattered and abandoned on the ground. Its black leather was scuffed and dirtied with weeks of mud and dust, the strings opened and the dull glint of copper pieces faintly shimmered in the sun.

He slipped out slowly, kicking up a rock at his feet and catching it between his middle and forefinger on his right hand. He flipped the small pebble up before catching it and throwing it at the obvious bait… It struck and nothing happened. Reaper waited for minute after minute as the bag remained undisturbed. He slowly shrugged and walked over to retrieve the bag. The wind died and all sound was silenced, nothing moved. As he slowly bent down to pick it up there was the snapping of a branch and he raised his head in time to catch the sight of an Ursa shifter bearing down on him with a heavy branch….

Then everything went black…

several weeks ago…

Reaper awoke to find himself bound by all four limbs to a wall… several feet in the air. He didn’t panic; in fact, his current employer always took this precaution. He waited silently as the shifting light of the sun through the slanted windows counted away the time of day. Nothing moved, but he knew he was always being watched… a spell, a guard, it was always something. A curtain fluttered and a familiar cloaked figure emerged.

”Again I apologize for our… rudeness in… handling your greetings and holdings… but protocol is protocol and … as you understand… business is best left in caution…” Reaper only nodded and watched the cloaked figure stalk from side to side. He waited for several more minutes, but apparently it was his turn to speak, ”What is my-“ “Ahhh! Your task! I nearly forgot… You see… My ruler… controls agents such as me to hire agents… such as yourself… to do his work without a line being traced back to him…” Reaper began to tune the man out as he rambled on about the usual introduction.. Saying how he had to be completely silent and cautions, blah, blah, blah.

”… requests that you capture a certain girl…” Reaper’s daze was snapped from its fogged blockade and he listened to every syllable, letting the message pour over him and the meaning consume him. He had never been asked to CAPTURE anyone before, always to kill or “help” them in certain ways or forms… who was this girl, why was she so important, what could he do to make this even more worth his while…

”-u could bring her back dead OR alive… but the pay is greater if she lives… The information will be given to you when you depart for Faydor…. Once again, trust no one, tell no one, kill everyone who questions you…” The rest was nonsense, just like the introduction and Reaper tuned it out. In his mind he began to let the thoughts collect and the pieces connect… this girl could be his answer to the ultimate ransom… and maybe his “early” retirement…

He shook his head, Faydor… he was headed home… though his home would never accept him… but the shifters were VERY territorial… maybe he could spark a shifter war and catch his target in the fray… then everything would fall into place from there…

Reaper regained consciousness; he looked up at… the ground. He looked down at where his feet were and caught sight of a thick rope. It snaked around his feet and bound them rigidly together; the rope went up a ways before being securely fastened to a thick oak branch. The breeze was still dead but he could smell the Ursas around him. Their thick scent clogging his senses as he shook his head. His cloak was still close to his boy, having been bound under the thick rope and his bound arms behind him also supporting the cloak. He felt lighter and looked around. The Ursas were all around him, most were in bear form but some were in humans, their size as great as the bears themselves, brutish men with thick shoulders and upper bodies with crude war paint and massive two-handed swords on their backs. A rattle caught his feline ears and he looked around, Several Ursas were shifting through his gear, getting their filthy paws over his good swords and crossbow.

There was a growl and a snow white Ursa, perfectly clean and groomed, larger than all the others by a good head and a half, by their standards. It approached him and drew a small sword, cutting the rope suspending his feet and he tucked his head in time before the solid earth rushed to meet him. He wiggled onto his stomach and a heavy paw slammed him into the ground and pinned him. Two heavy hands from unchanged Ursa Shifters hauled him before the leader.

It looked over his weapons and purses of coin then back at him, “Speak Feline Shifter… Why you enter our lands?” Reaper smiled, the Ursas were always in the dark about foreign events, unlike the Feline and Canines…. “I was sent with a proposal…..” The Ursa lifted his head and Reaper’s eyes shimmered. Now the hunt begins…

Just off the shore the prow of the Chameleon came around the corner into the gulf. It was made of a green colored wood with brass colored fixtures throughout it. The three large purple sails were down, yet the vessel moved towards shore at full speed. The power that drove it was below the water, a machine that was much like modern sail vessels. Several wind and water mages were aboard, assisting only with rogue waves and sea snakes cocky enough to come up over the prow and make a snap at the workers on-board. They themselves could push the craft, only they were tired from doing just that over the majority of the trip from their trip around the Northern end of Brays Major.

Striding onto the deck was a man who commanded attention of all around him. He was dressed in black silk and brown leather, over cotton under clothing of various colors that showed at the edges of the garments. He had darkly tanned skin and sharp black eyes under neath expressively arching brows. His dark hair was dyed at the tips violent shades of purple blue and red. His left ear was pierced at the upper rim in two places and a two silver rings were fitted there, one with a small emerald and one with a slightly larger ruby. Around his neck was a long thick gold chain that went under his shirt, obscuring what, if anything, was on it. His stride was long and confident, his hand was resting on the hilt of his Kusari-gama. Over one eye was a black patch.

"Captain Rahiki," a man approached him, giving a brief informal salute and stopping just behind him. The captain turned his attention to him. "We have reached land, sir." Rahiki stopped dead and turned on him, gesturing to the mass of land.

"Obviously," his lips quirked. "Sventon, yes?" the man nodded, only slightly uncomfortable. Rahiki nodded and continued his trip to the other end of the ship. Opening the door to the lower holding, he strode down confidently into the darkness, sliding the patch onto his opposite eye with practiced ease. Once he reached the bottom of the stair, he gazed around at the merchandise. It was a female shipment, mostly elves. Only one person guarded the group, all of which were unconscious. The person was aged and had long graying brown hair. She sat cross legged on the floor, movement keyed into the swaying of the ship. In front of her was a group of vials and pots that she was pouring from different containers unto smaller or larger ones. It was quick, decisive and purposeful.

"They are still unconscious, they will be until you put them in the boats in," she pulled up her left wrist watch, "Four and a half minutes." Rahiki smiled as she had not even turned her head. Her poisons kept the prisoners docile, either unconscious or nearly so. It saved him a lot of money in labor needing only one guard.

Ever since the kings death, lucrative business had been easy and untaxed, so several large groups came into existence to capitalize on this disorganization. Rahiki had lived thirty two years and had built everything he owned with his hard work and shrewd business sense. He turned and stalked back up the stairs, sliding his patch back onto the other eye as he stepped into the light.

"Prep the dinghies, prep the products. We're going ashore." he spoke in a loud booming voice. Half of the small force on the vessel went to the underneath. Prisoners were washed and dressed under the sharp eyes of the alchemist woman. She tolerated no dalliance or molestation. The shore boats were prepped under Rahiki's eye, equally picky.

Once they were all in the boats and the rowers were pulling towards shore, mages remaining to rest on board. The prisoners began to wake, among them a petite blue haired elf.

The blackness seemed to come and go, not completely, but enough to where she was in a shade of gray for moments at a time. The few brief, random moments she found her mental self rising through the ranks of the grayness she was aware of a constant, smooth rocking back and forth and a coolness that she enjoyed. Once she felt the cold of a rag on her cheeks, hands tugging at her form as someone moved her around, her body limp and unable to respond to mental stimulus. And then the blackness would seeped back in, and Enid would calmly claim her sleep once more.

She was awakened with an angry jolt from her body, the warm sun blinding her previously closed orbs. It took her many minutes to adjust to the brightness, the light intensified by its reflection off the blue sea around her. She blinked her amethyst pupils multiple times before thoughts of the previous night -- was it last night? -- flooded her inner eye, pictures of the graceful ocean, the pounding waves, the silent moon causing her to smile softly. But as she turned her attention to her current surroundings, she realized something had gone terribly wrong. She found her gloves on, her mask tied tightly, as well as her cloak, but her hood wasn’t up, her extra long tresses whipping like a cat-of-nine-tails in the finicky wind. She despised having her face visible to anyone around her, but that was the least of her worries.

Bound together by some type of heavy rope, Enid found her hands incapable of outstretching, the itchy twine connected to another section tied about her slender waist. As she began to tug, purple eyes widening in growing fear, she came to understand that the holdings were attached to someone behind and in front of her as well. In fact, there were a number of other people in the small boat that seemed to be heading for shore, a number of female elves. As she continued to take in the events around her she saw the small army of incoming vessels, each holding somewhere near a half-dozen roped up elven women.

Enid’s panic began to rise as the reality of the situation hit her; she had been captured and was being transported as an elven slave. The harsh truth produced a womanly outburst within her throat, but due to her imperfection, all she could do was swallow it down and try not to cry. How could she have been so stupid as to have wandered off in the dark all alone? It hardly mattered now.

No, she wouldn’t let this happen; she had been disowned because she enjoyed her freedom, she would be damned if she would be forced into slavery now. With a silent grunt she flung herself forward, the imbalance giving her the momentum to stand. She staggered a bit, the tightness of the cords forcing the girl behind her to stand as well. Glancing beyond her shoulder she looked at her companion; she was young, too young. Green eyes and sun-gold hair, untouched skin. She was scared, as Enid looked about she met many eyes, all colors greeting her purple gaze; they were all scared. Hastily she moved to the side, trying to place her form in a position that she might be able to gnaw through the cords. She was immediately thumped hard against the back of the head by one of the rowers, his eyes furrowed as he stared at her. The simple action against her had sent her into a pitch, the only way to save herself from tumbling into the woman before her was to over compensate and fall into a sitting position on her bench.

With a hardened grimace she reclaimed her seat, leaning forward in mock pain as she pushed the folds of her cloak to the side, sliding her fingers up her thigh, searching for her hidden suicide dagger, just the thing to cut through the pesky ropes. She kept her sight upon the hunched back of the young woman in front of her as she worked, the boat pitching awkwardly as it hit the beach.

Reaper was sent tumbling across the ground, his hands thrown out wildly as he tried to keep his face from hitting any loose rocks of the packed, hard earth. He felt the jagged fragments of stone and chipped metal cut through his hands and arms. The force hit his stomach and he did an almost unrealistic smash and flop, spinning twice more, before coming to a rest. He opened his eyes and the harsh daylight greeted him in the clearing. His head was numbed and his body was ravaged by splitting pain. He raised a bruised and cut hand to shield the sun from his eyes, as a few flecks of blood fell and splattered against his forehead.

He pushed himself slowly up onto his hands and knees, turning his head back in the direction he had been thrown from, and a heavy elbow connected under his jaw, he felt a few of his teeth crack and chip as his head was snapped backwards, his bare neck exposed to the sky as he flew upwards. Next he knew, a heavy foot smashed into his gut, forcing his whole body to collapse around it as he was rocketed back across the ground, his tender skin being ripped and torn as he hit a rock and flipped, none-too-gently onto his stomach, sliding a little further before stopping. He struggled, with labored movements and heavy arms, to try and push himself up to face his opponent.

The cold and lethal tip of a blade pressed into his neck right below the vertebrae, its deadly metal edge almost digging into his flash. ”It would be best if you yield…” Reaper instantly went limp and the blade was withdrawn. He sat up and rocked his head in his hands, knees curling up as he squeezed into a tiny ball. The opposite gave a small grunt and a heavy boot launched him across the ground once more, “A FELINE DOESN’T NURSE HIS WOUNDS LIKE A MANGY CANINE SHIFTER!” The heavy voice screamed at him and he sunk his head into the earth, hiding his shame, “I am sorry… Father…” Grim Steelic stood over his son, ”The world is harsh for our kind; We will never survive if we nursed our wounds and hid away… You are still too young to be a man… Go back to helping your mother… Weakling!”

Grim turned and started to walk away, and rage filled Reaper. He looked around and found a good sized rock, and in one motion: Lunged, and threw the rock at his father’s turned head. His movement was as silent as the grave but he gasped in fright as his father turned, blades drawn and deflected the crude projectile. A fire burned deeply in his father’s eyes, ”LOOKS LIKE YOU CAN STILL FIGHT!” At this, blades still drawn, Reaper’s father rushed forwards to engage his defenseless son… the beating would continue from Dusk till Dawn… No breaks… No mercy…

Reaper opened his eyes and looked at the oddly sketched map in front of him. The Ursa leader raised a heavy brow at him, “It was just… a memory… Back to the map.” He started to sketch his plans and the Ursa looked over his idea, “It could work…” The heavy shifter muttered, “How big do we get?” Reaper smiled, “Ever heard of the myth about bears the size of dragons?”

In a flurry of impatience and eagerness to begin her long planned and awaited quest, Alice paced back and forth across the floor, seething in quiet rage. So many feelings were bottled beneath the skin, none of them reaching her face as expressions, but any person with ability to sense energy could tell the waves of emotion emptying into the room from her every pore.

"Well, Jeeves," Alice said in a clipped, yet somehow calm sounding way, "I think it's time we take a more...direct approach to getting things done." her gaze was firmly set on the sky out the window when she spoke. Past sunrise, the time when she planned to be gone from this place. They still needed to backtrack South before heading North to the Durandal. With a wide clenched teeth smile, she swept out of a chair just after she attempted to sit in it and threw wide the door, stalking out into the street.

Pushing past the writhing crowd, she sends out her consciousness. Through the minds of weaker people she found her companions, first she located the one they now called Asterse and kneeled by him briefly.

"It's time to go," she told him. Before he could respond, she stood, making her way systematically to each person in their party ending with Gunther. Making her way to where he was, only to find that he was making his way back to where they were supposed to meet. She moved quickly and carefully, wondering if Jeeves was still with her, realizing that she had all but forgotten him in her moment of action. Stepping in front of Gunther, she stopped abruptly and cocked an eyebrow at him.

The crowded market square was hardly an environment that Gunther was used to, being a solitaire in the vast open space that comprises the Far Plains. Even on the rare occasions when he returned to West City to sell his surplus leathers and meat, he preferred to deal within certain butchers and leatherworkers, rather than risk getting mugged in the entropic atmosphere of wildly swinging limbs and bargains. As such, he found some difficulty in navigating the mob before him. With every step forward, he would be driven two steps back by someone's shoulder bumping into his own, and whatnot.

The hunter gritted his teeth, as he painstakingly pushed through, trying to accelerate his progress. He was met by a solid wall of people, who clamored to deal with a particularly cheap merchant. Gunther scratched his head, wondering how exactly to overcome this obstacle. At that particular moment, a street urchin who had been tailing him for some time, moved to steal the rifle strapped to his back.

Roughly a minute later, the urchin limped away from the scene, his face bruised and swollen. Gunther had immediately spun about on feeling the tug against his chest, driving his fist into the urchin's jawbone in a wide hook. As the mangy kid recovered from the blow, the hunter took his rifle into his hands, and started slamming the butt of it into the child repeatedly while reciting "Don't touch that darn thing! Ah told you don't touch that darn thing!"

Nature knows not the concept of mercy. If you are to fight, you must strive for nothing less than the complete incapacitation of the opponent. Should your adversary be superior to you, dispose of it rapidly, before it may do the same to you. If you find yourself up against an unworthy challenger, feel free to teach him the very same lessons you have learned. The lesson of nature.

Examining his rifle after the beating, Gunther found it to be in excellent order, save a few bloodstains on the butt. No matter, he could clean that later. As he slung the firearm across his back, his latest employer had seemingly materialized just in front of him. He gazed blankly at her for a second, while he contemplated how people could sneak up on him so easily, then attributed it to his unfamiliarity with this sort of environment.

"Well howdy, missy," Gunther greeted with a rub of his nose, "Didn't expect you to come out all the way to these here parts. Ah'd have been at the rendezvous by now, but ah got just a tad held up. Mah apologies."