Aurora's Plight. (Fantasy RP: IC!)

Brovo · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Brovo** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 12:22 am

(Link to the OOC/Sign-Up section here: aurora-plight-fantasy-ooc-sign-ups-t20384.html)

Hearing the notes flow through the breeze in to the ears of the children who gathered round to see him play. The Bard was but a mere man, with his minstrel and lyrics he sang a catchy tune. People passed by and tossed him nickels, for the things that gave him.. That gave him... Dammit. Still need to work on that one. Myria the Songwriter thought to herself as she was busy harmonizing yet another tune inside her head. The King had given his familiar speech to the soldiers who had gathered round, sort like like children to a Bard's little songs. Back to duty the soldiers went as the king sat and waited. Deep inside Myria knew he was waiting for more volunteers. They were waiting beside a small ten foot wooden gate which was put inside a short fifteen foot palisade wall. The gate itself was wide open, but there were no volunteers in sight. Just the typical market owners and cart wielders who went back and forth in and out of town. Eventually it became clear that no volunteers were coming at the moment, so the king stood up and tapped Myria's shoulder. Which is what interrupted her song writing thoughts in the first place.

Myria listened to the King's whispers. They sounded somewhat fearful for some strange reason. "I need you to head out on your own for now.. We'll try to direct anyone else who comes in your general direction but the longer we wait here the more obvious it will become and the more likely an assassin will follow you and end your life. So you best be going, wait just outside of town beside the large tree stump on top of that hill-" The king stops whispering for a moment to point towards a large hill in the distance. The tree stump from there looked like a brown spec on the horizon, especially since it was almost midday. "My guards here will direct any other volunteers to that tree stump. Move either when you believe you have enough volunteers, or when night fall approaches." Myria nods in an obedient manner as the King stood triumphant even now when he had to depend on total strangers to save his daughter. That was strange now that Myria thought about it.. Although she'd have to put further thought into it later. Right now she has to go to that hill. The King turns around and with the flick of his wrist two guards in shining armor stand by the meeting point for volunteers. Myria stands up herself, her business conducted she heads out the wooden gate and starts heading for the tree stump.

Already she had left the city's bounds. They got most of their food from the river on the western edges of the city, and the south and north were completely walled with palisade. The only way in and out of the city was through the east gate.. Unless of course you wanted to swim across a fourty foot gap filled with rather fast water.. Not quite raging, but still. Like that would ever happen. If it did, Myria could come up with a tune on her flute about it. Already she was halfway to the hill; which felt kind of strange since Gethendral behind her was now starting to grow smaller by the minute. Maybe she was walking fast? Nahh. Probably being lost in her thoughts again did it. Wouldn't be long till she reached the stump now.. Speaking of the stump, that thing must be at least fifty feet in size! Damn! That must have been one large tree there a long time ago. Sighing quietly to herself Myria grabs her flute and starts playing a rather calm symphony. She liked practicing on her flute when no one was around.. Or was there someone watching her. Curiosity spiked, Myria takes one glance around herself before shrugging it off as nothing. Nobody was there. Besides, who would want to follow a Bard anyway?

Gluttony · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Gluttony** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 1:05 am

Dell emerged from the forest, foliage and squirrels behind him. He had been in the town of well, Dell before heading towards Gethendrel. Strangely enough Dell was named after him. That simple town idolized him as a god because he fulfilled some prophecy. Apparently "A stranger shall emerge from the north and caress your chickens with his right hand. The name of your city shall be as that man's name. Only then will your city prosper.". Strangely enough, Dell happened to go to that nameless city and pet a stray chicken that crossed his path. He tried to comprehend why any city would follow such a silly prophecy. At the moment though, it didn't matter.

Dell had been told by Wensa the inn keeper of Dell that the King of Gethendrel had called for brave heroes to come to his aid. He also mentioned tons and tons of money. Now, Dell wasn't a hero, but he was oppurtunistic. He had many debts to pay off. Maybe now he could afford to do so. As Dell took quick strides to get closer to city, he saw an enormous tree. He squinted to see it clearer and noticed it was just a stump!

"Damn." it was one of the few words Dell had spoken since he left Dell

Near this "stump" was a pretty woman. Dell decided he would ask her where this king was and what he wanted. He quickly went from strides into a sprint. He hit the brakes a couple feet from the woman. She was playing a flute and playing it well. Dell walked up to her.

"Excuse me young lady, might I ask where I can answer this call to save a certain princess?" asked Dell

Brovo · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Brovo** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 1:26 am

Myria had been playing her flute in silence now. For once she actually felt like she could just sit back and relax for a while, practice a song or two, daydream about better da-

"Excuse me young lady,"

Myria perks her head up to see who spoke with such a kind tone in his voice. Maybe she had gone off daydreaming again. Perhaps a knight in a shining suit of armor? Nahh. Probably a sun baked warrior with muscles the size of mountains! Or..

"might I ask where I can answer this call to save a certain princess?" asked a stranger who looked like a wandering scholar. Damn! Myria thinks to herself before clearing her throat and answering the scholar's question. "Of course. The king wishes for volunteers to save his daughter and those volunteers have to come to me." Myria says this in a slightly curious tone of voice. It was completely unintentional, but the question once again popped into her mind. Why would a king send complete strangers to save his daughter? It seemed like one of those fairy tales that she would sing about. Except she wasn't a knight in shining white armor, she didn't own a proud steed, and she was certainly not a man. Looking behind herself for a brief moment at the stump she was sitting on, Myria shrugs to herself before saying in a kind tone of voice. "Sit down if you like. We probably shouldn't go on an adventure alone.. I mean, that would be suicidal." As she awaits the scholar's reply, she once again brings up that tune she was practicing earlier in her head. Hearing the notes fly through the air, small trees shudder and small children stutter. Their disbelief was in their eyes; the Bard was here to sing a rhyme!.. Ahh that's a much better introduction. Myria thinks leisurely to herself as the occasional white, fluffy cloud passes overhead. This might take a while..

[Ace] · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **[Ace]** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 1:28 am

Derikku's stomach grumbled loudly. "What I'd do for a delicious slice of steak..." he muttered to himself. He sat back against the tree he had been sitting under, roughly, making a loud 'thump'. The day had beautiful so far: bright, clear, and crisp; almost perfect that is, if starvation hadn't begun to set in. The cool grass beneath Derikku had begun to yellow from lack of sunlight- it was obvious that this was Derikku's 'usual' spot.

"Well, if you didn't stuff our supply of food from that last town down your throat, we wouldn't be in this situation," Wolfie retorted, scoffing under his breath. Derikku lifted his head up from the tree, thinking for a moment.

"That was you. You ate it while I was asleep..." Cold silence filled Derikku's mind.

"But... it was your body!" Wolfie was laughed under his breath. He always did act sort of... off when the two were hungry. Derikku wondered for a moment if all dogs did, but quickly changed his thoughts before Wolfie started a rant about the differences between wolves and dogs.

"Look, we need to get more food. The closest place is there, but... it looks fairly well fortified. We may have to buy food," Derikku mumbled looking over the wall into the city. The two began to laugh, until Derikku strained to inhale. With a quick stretch, Derikku stood and leaned against the tree. He pulled his ankles against the back of his hips, stretching his hamstrings. "Alright, then, we should get going or we'll be bones by dawn."

Warm agreement flooded Derikku's mind as he started a slow stride. He paused, as he approached the corner of the town. "Now then," he started in a questioning tone, "Across the river to surprise, or through the gate to be nonchalant?" Wolfie's eagerness ran a quick shock through Derikku, and he picked up his pace, deciding to enter the town through the gate. As he started along the main road, he glanced back, noting the rather large remnants of a tree, and a couple. Soft notes pin pricked his ears, before the sounds were drowned out by the sound of the townspeople.

Safisan · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Safisan** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 2:12 pm

They swayed, dancing gracefully along the busy, merchant-packed streets. Bright green leaves, they flowed along with the wind, portraying a sense of innocence and peace to the land of Gethendral. Grey and dull, the road was paved with rocks of equally opaque shades, it certainly didn't suit such a vivid place. Atop a blacksmith's home, the spec of black stood out from the rest of the yellow rooftop. It was Patrick: an assassin that had moved to the western land some time ago. Known only by the shops he frequented, even less had a clue as to the odd location; another 'job.'

For 5,000 gold pieces and several bottles of well-aged wine, a target had been placed on an immigrant, 'middle aged and wearing fine leather' the description on his right hand's note read. It was vague, but the horribly drawn picture helped a little, Jonathan -a renowed client of the killer- always blamed the poor quality scrolls. Back against the roof, ears wide open to the slightest sound, as a local had given information that the man would be buying a sword from the smith.

Said and done, a man stepped out of the shop with a wide grin; sheath tied to a trouser of treated leather and a shiny new blade on hands. Sword looks like something kids should be playing with... He thought as an eerie grin covered the man's face and a stride took him along the street, taking a turn at the inn on the corner. "You're mine." Patrick was comforted by the stupid move on the foe's side, of course, it's not like one could suspect death coming from a roof. After passing both hands through his belt, they felt up both daggers, cold and uneven, much like the ruling in Gethandral's neighbor kingdom.

Carefully, he treaded over the wooden frames on the following houses' rooftops. Conveniently, the upper windows were shut for the most part, and the only person to notice the black spec was an old lady... "Stupid crows! Leave me alone already, I have no more bread for you!" Ridiculous, but assassins should think nothing of those who confuse them with animals.

Slick, warm, a brand new weathervane; perfect for Patrick to hold onto before the attack, the unoccupied arm pulled out a white mask from the leather bag to the side and slid it carefully onto the stoic face. The man a story down hummed a familiar tune, it would have sounded much better to a flute's whistle. Foo! The wind cried out as daylight stopped doing it's job: the alleyway was poorly lit and the upper windows' frames didn't help with the lighting. Turning around, the target could only open his mouth and bleed in response. The crouched assassin had stuck one of the daggers into the chest, and its twin into the stomach.

"Hey yee! Whash d'yee think ya're doinn'?!" Bad luck, from behind one of the royal guards had spotted him! The reek of alcohol spread in the air, it was obvious that man had been drinking for some time. Shouldn't be much of a fight. Maybe I can get away with my money, too. "I'm working, do you have any jobs like these? I'll gladly do them." "I... Yessh! The kingsh told uss too--" Hiccuping, the armored guard took hold of the right wall to regain posture. "Recover hish dahter... She'sh... Beeutay... Tellsh us tah send recruitsh tah big tree stamp... What a silly drunk, a big tree stamp kidnapped a king's daughter? Perhaps, it was the *stump* on a hill just outside the kingdom. "I'll go for it... Good day, officer."

Patrick jumped off the right wall onto the left, bouncing over the confused official. A getaway and a mission... My, my. It's just too bad I won't get a chance to get my money first, that bastard will likely be off soo-- What was this? A new face on Gethendral? Looked rather hungry and distracted, no matter. A shot at more money awaited, and that meant buying a tower to start a mercenary guild, it was a lovely dream.

So fresh, so well kept, the hill was a tad steep for somebody to put their kingdom right next to. As Patrick walked on closer, the sound of a flute rang in his ears, rather skilled playing that was. A bard-like tree? It was enormous, unlikely anything you'd get fruit from, it was majestic, it was... The stump?! Only God knows how grand it could have been in its true glory. Steps closer, he touched the tree with a sunburnt, calloused right hand, it had been a long time since its execution, as the wood had grown dead.

A grey tip! A sword? Patrick drew the scimitar from his back and aimed forward, ready to engage the possible enemy... As he turned from the edge, it was only a pair of adventurers, the source of the music was a bard, female and attractive in appearance, whereas the other in the pair looked older and more experienced. "Sorry. You two here for the rescue mission?" Small talk had never been a forte, but if he'd battle beside them, a sense of camaraderie would be a must. "I'm Patrick, property of Golgoth, the bladesmaster of Gendaril." In respect, the mask covering his face was taken off, revealing a suntanned, serious aspect.

Gluttony · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Gluttony** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 3:59 pm

"Of course. The king wishes for volunteers to save his daughter and those volunteers have to come to me."

The woman sounded quite authoratative. Dell was about to say something when she continued.
"Sit down if you like. We probably shouldn't go on an adventure alone.. I mean, that would be suicidal."

Now she seemed quite inviting, something not normal. It was quite refreshing for Dell, especially considering his usual first words to someone. He looked around before finally accepting the woman's proposal and taking a seat. Since she started playing her music again, Dell felt no need to say anything for fear of interrupting her. It was a nice little tune, probably worth dancing to, but Dell didn't dance. He did appreciate good music though.

As Dell sat there listening to the woman's music, he heard something. He didn't quite know what it was, but to be safe he put his hand on the handle of his dagger. And as a man came from behind a tree, his worst fears were realized. He held a very sizeable sword and it looked like he was getting ready to strike. And just when he thought he would have to fight again, the man put his sword away.

"Sorry. You two here for the rescue mission?"

"I believe we are. Come join us on this stump. Surely you wouldn't pass up a chance to listen to such wonderful playing."

Dell examined the man. A mysterious white mask covered his face. Was he a thief or something? No matter, to save a princess you can't be that bad.

"I'm Patrick, property of Golgoth, the bladesmaster of Gendaril."

"Oh, the Golgoth fellow. I've heard about him on my travels to Gendaril. He does not sound like a pleasant man."

Dell remembered when he was told about Golgoth. He sounded almost as bad as the king of Gendaril. And that was definitely saying a lot. It seemed this man could be a slave or something. And as the man took off his mask, it became apparent he didn't look too malicious. Maybe he could be a welcome addition to the party.

Emptor · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Emptor** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 4:37 pm

Albin trod through the damp undergrowth,fending off malicious branches that grasped at his hair and where his cape normally would be if he hadn't shoved it in his pack.Ducking under a branch the red mage cursed the king under his breath as it batted his hat off.Crouching down to swipe the hat off he stopped and listened.A few notes of a bard's tune found their way into his ears as he put his hat back on and straightened out the feather.Slowly he strode towards the clearing and pulled his staff out.Ducking behind a tree he looked into the circle and saw a bard as well as a scholar.good lord,the king sure has lowered his standardshe thought as he picked a leaf off of the tree and ripped it in half.

Slowly stepping out of the forest surrounding the stump he clapped"Bravo,encore,encore."he said with a flat voice"Can I hear another of your compositions?"he said as he stepped closer to the group his staff still clasped tightly in his hand as he looked at the newcomer."So this looks like the place the king told me to end up in."

[Ace] · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **[Ace]** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 4:43 pm

Derikku wandered down the small cobblestone path. The town bustled and mumbled, the collection of voices buying, selling, trading, and the like blending into a voluminous undertone in the background of the area. He slipped into the crowd, attempting to maneuver towards the smell of blood- the delicious scent filled the air.

"I think I can smell fresh beef, maybe pork..." Derikku grumbled to himself, drool pooling in his cheeks. Images flashed through his mind in rapid succession; thick, juicy slabs of bloodied beef floated over an ocean of lightly salted hams. The sky filled with bacon-y weather, and gravy flowed over the...

"I can almost taste it," Wolfie mumbled under his exasperated breath. There was a slight pause before he spoke again, "Here! Make a right down this alley!" Derikku nodded, and picked up his pace to the darkened alleyway. The scent became stronger as he walked.

"You know, I'm not seeing anything," Derikku started, taking another few steps. He blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the dark before seeing the bloody body. "Ooh! Dead body here!" he laughed, squatting next to the corpse; he ran his hands over the man, looking for anything of value. He stopped at the newly bought sword, and picked up the silvery weapon. It certainly looked expensive enough. Derikku grinned widely, sliding the blade into his belt.

"Itsh over hur I th-" a hiccup interrupted the voice, "...I think..." the masculine voice finished. Derikku stood, turning on his heel. Several figures stood in the entrance of the alley, peering down the length of the road. Derikku winced, realizing how the scene looked. "Look! There'sh the guy who say that... help..." the man paused to vomit. Derikku cursed once, harshly.

"Get him!" one guard shouted, starting into the alleyway. Derikku turned to the wall, planting his hands against it. He pushed his fingers into the cracks, and quickly hiked up the wall, leaving the shouting guards below. By now there was a slight commotion heard over the usual murmuring of the town.

"You just had to go find food!" Wolfie accused, shouting over the thoughts in the back of Derikku's mind. He laughed once, leaping across the gap between rooftops. His foot met the shingles of the second roof, then twisted. His feet were slick from the alley, and the smooth-topped roof did not make a good addition to the situation. He tumbled downward, ricocheting first off the wall of the building he jumped to, then back to the wall he had hoped to clear. He crashed to a halt against the stone street below.

A loud shout echoed through the town, quieting the crowd for a moment. The voices resumed as usual, seeing only an ordinary traveler walking from the ally with an embarrassed grin. It was time to leave- now.

Brovo · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Brovo** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 4:50 pm

Quietly Myria had been practicing her flute, surprisingly enough though with no buildings or other sounds around aside from the soft summer breeze her flute sounded much louder instead of quiet like in tight places or busy cities. One note led to another, smoothly transcending from higher notes to lower notes, back up to higher notes with a tune that was rather calming and content in nature. The tune itself almost seemed to waft through the midday breeze as every slight movement from her fingers triggered something anew in her little tune. Little be it known that it was actually a child's toon; one which was rather comforting and calming in nature. Amazing what music could do to tired warriors or majestic mages.. Before Myria could finish the song however her self tranced state was interrupted by both the scholar and a new face.. Or should she think mask?

Yes, a white masked fellow with a rather large blade was behind her. It looked like a sword you'd find in a desert or in a low life place.. Mmm.. a Bandit possible? Myria didn't feel endangered though. The man had a certain presence about him, more like a bird set free from his cage than a blood thirsty rogue set to rob her of her possessions. "Sorry. You two here for the rescue mission?" Before Myria could respond her rather newfound scholar comrade decided to speak instead. "I believe we are. Come join us on this stump. Surely you wouldn't pass up a chance to listen to such wonderful playing." Myria felt her heart leap a little at that compliment. It twas' rare for her to receive compliments, rarer still to receive one about music from a rather intelligent looking man. Still, intelligence does not replace muscles. "I'm Patrick, property of Golgoth, the blademaster of Gendaril." Property of Golgoth? Well this was a little far for someone to travel unless Golgoth was here.. Which would be rather strange if he was a man of Gendaril's standards. That would be a long distance to travel for any sort of reason.

Still, help was help and Myria wasn't about to reject any help. Although the scholar, in all of his intelligence, decided to pipe in again. For a scholar fellow he sure was talkative. "Oh, the Golgoth fellow. I've heard about him on my travels to Gendaril. He does not sound like a pleasant man." Oh gee, that was hard to figure out. I mean one of his pieces of "property" just happened to wander all the way out here? No, he was probably a runaway slave. Oh well. Better that then a blood thirsty rogue. Speaking in a once again curious tone of voice Myria says. "Well, any help I can get is good. Even if I have to split this reward.. Considering that it's enough to purchase a small kingdom, I wouldn't mind dividing it." Looking up towards the sky once again, the white fluffy clouds had quickly passed by. They were still visible but they were quickly floating off into the distance. Westward it seemed. No matter really. At least she could continue to play her flute, except this time in good weather.

Before she could play it again however, she heard a man clap his hands. Turning around to see who it was she spotted a man in red clothing with a red cape. Yet another volunteer. Things were looking up for her. Maybe she wouldn't have to wait all that long after all. Another composition is what he wanted to hear? Hm.. Well that is what Myria was about to do if he didn't so nonchalantly walk in and interrupt her. Oh well. "Yes, this is where we are all meeting up. You can sit down if you like, since we should probably wait for at least one more before we get going.. Or we'll just wait for a few minutes before giving up and heading out on our own." Myria says in a respectful, but somewhat curious tone of voice. It was something she normally did; curious tone of voice. Why so curious? It was in her nature, her blood maybe. Who knows.

Pressing her gray flute up to her lips once again, she began to play a different tune. This one was somewhat more complex, one which she actually infused a bit of magic into. I mean, it would take her hours and hours of playing her flute to actually burn away all her magic: it was only a tiny, tiny amount of magic that she actually used in a continuous stream. That and she has been playing her flute for years now; her magic reserves are at least slightly better than a normal person's magic supply. This tune was more of a directly fluent tune, moving between calming and exciting as if she were telling yet another tale. If she was, this one was about a rather large battle. Probably between an Angel and a Demon, but the best part about all of this was that she never had to do a thing to describe it when she played these more complex tunes; usually a person's imagination did the rest for filling it in. All she had to do was play the tune.

Safisan · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Safisan** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 5:40 pm

Yet another fighter had joined their ranks, a mage of sorts. It was suprising to know people had heard of Golgoth even so far away, if they were anything like back in Gendaril, they'd have sounded for guards or ran away, as his property was not to be touched, unless bought by the blademaster for that purpose. The woman had said something about spliting the reward, it hadn't even crossed Patrick's mind at the time, but if the reward really could buy a small kingdom, his part could certainly buy that mercenary guild.

So awkward... Maybe we could talk? I can't risk my life for people I don't know, unless they're paying me. Afternoon had set on the sky, as it cleared, showing a wondrous blue ceiling, certainly devious though, as it would trick anybody into thinking it had no intention of leading tthem to battle. They were already quite a group, Patrick had doubts as to waiting for another member, but it seemed like a decent idea, it was a little time to break the ice among his fellow rescuers. "So..." A look down revealed a thick, dark brown root from the tree stump, the music the girl played was rather intriguing, adding a lot to the moment. "Golgoth... Quite a fellow. I almost feel bad for cutting his arm. The rumors are true, by the way; before that, he really could wield glass swords in it."

In the distance, far below the hill and his rambling was an empty post, likely used by bandits as the remnant, rusty knives said. It seemed a tad familiar, yes indeed, it was the furthest he'd wandered as a child. That mask inside the bag... It had come from a passing merchant's 'gift'. A glance at that pouch, placed around the torso and ending at the right hip: two rectangles for eyes, a pair of tiny holes for the nose and an ear-to-ear inverted smile, it was kind of cute for one to see such a silly expression before death. Cute, in Patrick's own sick way, such as at time the local blacksmith woke up to find a bloodied hay ragdoll of his son atop the dining table.

Such wandering, it would make for a great story, and the party did seem a little off for the time being. "If nobody will stop me, uh... I'd like to tell you guys something about myself, should prove to be an easier mission if we know a little of us. I dislike actual fighting, these weapons are made for a quick strike so if any of you are good at distracting the foe, it's perfect. And w-well I've already told you my name, except for you." Looking at the newest member, androgynous, frail and apparently with a taste for interrupting songs, still, he'd yet to see him in battle. "I'm Patrick. Patrick of Golgoth until the latter is dead."

"Here I am, blabbering on. Please, if you all have anything we need to know, at least your names? I've been in a few missions like these, they're not quite the same when you don't know the rest of the group." Begging them to talk about themselves, real smart. As long as we don't see master during all of this, I really can't make a big mistake, now can I? The previous look downwards had shown the stump's roots, this one showed a small bulge on the loose, black pants. It was a steel shackle that cloaked the right ankle, it had been kept covered since moving to Gethendral.

Brovo · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Brovo** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 6:22 pm

(Note: If someone were to close their eyes during the time that the second paragraph takes place, they would be in the same imaginary place Myria was. They would be free to do as they wished as long as it was calm and peaceful--- in fact, they would likely feel the sheer need to do rather calm and peaceful acts instead of violent or aggressive ones.)

Myria continued to play the tune on her flute, listening to the story that her new comrade began to talk about. She would remain silent for now, continuing to play the tune on her flute for the duration until they expected her to speak. As a Bard she knew it was best to get to know who your singing for and what exactly the tools at your disposal are. After all, nothing is worse then revealing all your tricks only to have the other entertainers just take them and leave you with nothing. At least, that's what Myria believes anyway, and she would continue to believe it. Listening to Patrick's small, and maybe poorly spoken story, Myria decided that Patrick was likely out for some sort of revenge. Maybe. As Patrick continued his small tale Myria changed her tune slightly to accommodate it, although there really wasn't much to accommodate to so the tune only changed ever so slightly. Only those who were really listening hard to her music would even notice the minuscule difference that her tune had taken.

Myria felt herself start to daydream again as Patrick asked others to speak about themselves. While others spoke stories she would play her flute and wonder just how far she could carry herself into her own little world. Then again, if anyone else was listening, they'd likely see the same thing she would. Closing her eyes Myria changed the tune ever so subtly to remove any of the excitement from it, instead switching it over to something rather calm and soothing. After a few moments, Myria had drowned out the rest of the noises around her. Seeing herself on a cliff overlooking a rather bright and clear lake the grass was up to her waist, and it felt soft and green. The only thing she could hear was her flute in the background, leading her along the way as she turned around, backed up a couple steps and fell backwards off the cliff and towards the water. Everything felt so clear and peaceful, it twas' a wonderful place. If only it actually existed so that Myria could visit it. Who knows, maybe there is a place where everything she imagines appears.. No wait, that would be a bad thing considering the amount of violence she has had to imagine in order to paint out rather exciting stories for the weary and for the rich.

VeniVidiVici · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **VeniVidiVici** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 6:49 pm

He'd heard of it. The rumors in the town were abound and the most popular was that of the kings daughter, and Miss Louiers services. Ignoring the latter rumor Eric tried squeezing the information from gossipers that passed by him. Most were to high on their own pride to give a damn about a bum. One however was kind enough, or pitied him and told him everything he knew.

"Well, I'm not sure how much is true, but it's going around that the king is offering his daughters hand to any that rescue her from the evil hands of Duran. The whole damn kingdom is probably going to be there, you might want to hurry. There should be someone at a large stump on a small hill outside of town. Just look for a small army." Having done his deed for the day the man returned to shopping, stopping only for a moment to answer the gladiator.

"Wait, what? How many people have already gone?" He'd asked immediately, the helpful man responding with another chuckle.

"You didn't think you'd be the only one to sign up did you? It's the kings daughter. By the gods who wouldn't go."

Letting the man walk off with a cheap laugh Eric rose to his feet, and within seconds was running for the meeting place. Gossip was rarely true, and he doubted the king was offering his daughters hand to anyone who defeated the 'Evil Prince Duran'. The title of the man struck an odd place in the gladiators heart. In a world of crime, murder, rape and gods know what else could this Duran really be so bad. That rumor no matter how he thought of it still seemed the most probable of the others. The truth wasn't what really mattered anyways, as long as the gladiator got a bag of money he'd be happy.

A blemish appeared on the horizon within moments and as he neared it the faint sound of a flute being played could be heard with his footsteps. Slowing to a brisk walk Eric surveyed the people who'd gathered. There wasn't a small army, it was barely even a cohort. How were they supposed to take on an evil lord with 4, no 5 people including himself. Interrupting a budding conversation he squinted. A mage or some sort of caster, a flute playing woman, some boy he could only think of as an assassin and a man he couldn't define. His right hand, hidden in cloth bandages fingered the blade of his smaller dagger. Approaching the group cautiously he tried not to appear hostile.

"This is all then?"

[Ace] · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **[Ace]** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 7:02 pm

The town behind him, Derikku laughed aloud. It was always escaping the common human. Less conditioned, muscled, and beyond that- generally no ability outside of a bit of weapon skill. Weapon. Derikku slid to a halt, cursing as he did. He'd forgotten his own weapon. Sighing, he turned about, and started towards the tree line where he had rested earlier that day. A clean quick breeze flowed through the area, cooling him from the run. Then something caught his attention.

"Smell that?" Wolfie grumbled, the color red flooding his mind. Derikku nodded, slowing his stride as he arrived at his 'usual spot'. He knelt, picking up his weapon, then his rucksack filled with odd knickknacks. He peered into the distance for the scent. It couldn't be too far off if he could smell it in his current form. A few hundred yards at most. There! He looked over the specs in the distance, though he couldn't gather much from where he stood.

"That's the same blood from that man in the alley. Whoever killed him, is thataway..." Derikku observed, rubbing his chin. He shouldered the large blade, then slung it onto his back. "Maybe there's a bounty on one of their heads..." he thought aloud. Wolfie had already begun forcing him to start in the direction of the group. Derikku sighed, and regained control, stutter stepping as he did. He sprinted quickly at first, but slowed his approach from a ways off to a jog.

His ears perked up, but then deafened slightly. The sharp reproach of the sounds didn't hurt his ears, but... they certainly made them ring. He waited a moment, trying to place the feeling he felt, but then noted something more important. Distance; there was a distance appearing between Wolfie and Derikku's emotions. Wolfie's usually impulsive, active nature began to feel out of place, awkward. He shook the feeling free, ignoring it as another change in emotions. He took another step, then sighed. The change felt too different. Unnatural. Something must have been changing them.

"Wow, this feels weird. We're not linked the same way anymore. You're being fed emotions from somewhere else..." Wolfie didn't seem displeased, though... it was harder to feel him out. It was similar to being able to sticking one's hand into water, feeling the flow, and the temperature. Then, without warning, you cannot feel the temperature. The current was still there, the thoughts in this case, but there was little emotion to feel.

Derikku grimaced, but wiped the look from his face. Now wasn't the time for curiosity. Now then, to pick off the killer. He ignored the exchange in words, focusing on the scents. Blood hung heavy, but... Where?

DelishushPastry · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **DelishushPastry** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 10:18 pm

Vangelis sat in a tavern and listened to the casual conversation of the common folk as he often did. Today was a day that he was likely not to forget though, simply because he heard a very special thing coming from one of the people in the tavern. While sitting he heard a man say, "Yes I heard the king has set out a mission to all of those who think themselves man enough to do it." This intrigued Vangelis and, unlike normally, he got up and went over to the man who was talking to a woman. He stood near the man and said, "Excuse me but what were you talking about when you said the king set fourth a mission?" The man looked at him and replied, "Oh yes the king, his daughter was stolen away and he has set fourth a challenge for all those who are willing to save her."

"Really anything else?"

"Well the man I talked to about it said something about a large reward and an even larger risk but that's all."

"Thank you sir," Vangelis said as he placed some coin on the man's table and walked out of the tavern. As he was walking down the street he wondered where he could possibly find who was going on this mission or at least who he could talk to about it. Just then he heard a voice call out from behind him. "Hey sir! Hey! I forgot to say you should go to the big tree stump outside the town to find the adventurers who will be going on this mission. You seemed quite into it so I thought I would tell you," It was the man from the tavern and it appeared he had ran at him because he was now panting. Vangelis laid a smirk on his face as he turned to the man and said "Thank you good sir you have helped me quite a bit if there is anything you would like I will do anything possible to help."

"No no it's fine glad to help out." That was all the man said as he turned and walked back towards the tavern. Vangelis put another smile on his face and began walking towards the city gate.

Vangelis got to the gate and looked out along the horizon trying to find this stump that the man had told him about. His eyes focused on a group of people standing and sitting around a large stump and concluded that that must have been where he was to go to. Walking over he crossed a beautiful grassy plain and observed the lush flowers and other lightly larger foliage at his feet. He often observed things while he walked and much of the time didn't look where he was going. This would often times make him go off course and lose his way. Luckily that was not the case today and he reached the stump in what seemed like no time.

Vangelis looked around at the people around the stump and could only remark that it was an 'interesting group of travelers.' After making his initial observation of the adventurers he looked at the stump which was incredibly large and could easily hold a meal for the entire group on it. He didn't know why he thought that but it was the first thing that he found to compare it to and he could think of nothing else that it resembled. He decided he would introduce himself and said "Hello my name is Vangelis I was curious about embarking on this adventure to save the princess with you. This is what is happening here correct?"

Gluttony · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Gluttony** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 10:29 pm

A red robed man suddenly appeared from the way most of the recruits had come. He seemed to want to join their group. He had apparently been directed by the king himself. Their small group was quickly turning into a large group. Hopefully they could all be useful and cover each others weaknesses. It seemed this man was a mage of sorts. Hopefully he could fill in their magic department. The red robed man quickly returned to the topic of the woman's music again. At this, Dell was glad.

Then, the once masked man began to speak. The woman seemed to ignore him, playing through the words. He asked for Dell's name, which he gladly gave.

"Oh my name, of course. I am Dell of...well I don't properly remember anymore. I've been around quite a lot you see." said Dell replying to Patrick

Indeed, as soon as he was able to, Dell left his home. From there he spent decades sleeping in taverns and tents. It wasn't often Dell liked to converse with strangers, although this was certainly an exception. Dell really had to know these people if they were to function as a group. And as he closed his eyes to further register everything he had taken in, he could visualize a serene scene. He was at a lakeside, staring at clear blue waters. It was nice, and he couldn't recall ever seeing a lake so clear. Dell then opened his eyes as he heard a voice.

"This is all then?"

It was quite a rude remark. They all seemed like capable people. Besides, a small group wasn't as noticeable as a gigantic army. And a one man rescue mission was doomed to fail.

"Yes sir, this is all." replied Dell

Dell suddenly realized how hostile he sounded. It was probably because he had wanted to enjoy his vision of that lake. To reconcile any quick aggravation, Dell decided to slip in another more friendly remark.

"Come sit with us. Tell us about yourself."

It was a strange thing to say after what he had just said. He didn't care though. Maybe, the group would leave soon. It didn't seem like anyone was near, or about to come. They had been there for a while now. And then, Dell noticed something. It was a big something!

"Excuse me. Nature calls."

Dell got up from the tree stump and walked a little ways into the forest. It was there he quickly relieved himself. He looked around, a small mushroom grew out of the side of a tall tree. Surprised at seeing it, he ran over to it and picked it right away.

"A black shroom! YES!"

The name said it all, it was a pure black mushroom. Most would be afraid to even touch it, but not Dell. He knew what it was good for. It definitely wasn't good for eating, but smoking, it was great for smoking. Dell pulled a pipe out of his coat pocket and a smile crossed his face.

"No Dell, you sould save it." he said to himself before stuffing both the mushroom and pipe into his pocket.

Before returning to the stump, Dell looked all around and discovered five more fully grown mushrooms. After stuffing them with the first, he ran back to the stump. The woman was still playing and everyone else conversing. He took back his spot on the enormous stump and simply began to listen to the music again.

Safisan · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Safisan** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 10:49 pm

It would be a while until they set off, so Patrick thought. Leaning back on the stump, the members of the party had grown a bit more talkative, the sage's name was Dell, quite interesting. His back slid down as a crouching position was taken, the soil had gone dry and infertile, unlike the rest of the hill which just begged somebody to plant in it. Plopped down on the ground, a nap seemed like a wise choice, considering it was a little after noon, they could well be traveling until night. Eyes shut, the tune of the bard, it sounded vaguely different, it lulled and tranquilized.

They reopened to reveal a bright sky, had he slept a whole day? Nonsense, just enough for the grass to... Grow several feet up as blades of it covered up some of the scenery. "Huh." Patrick stood up to find the stump long gone and the hill turned into a cliff, rather high up and granting view of an equally fine scenery: a body of water, large and enclosed, its waters transparent, practically crystal clear. Surrounding it were several willows, slouched and making a reflection, almost as if they cried.

The sound of the flute playing came, reality followed, was this reality? In any case, it was better than it, peaceful and inviting. Even one with the guilt of killing could feel at ease here. "It's... Amazing. Could I be dreaming?" Seeing the place bare, he'd have to speak out to see if it were existent, maybe the tune was only imagination, as the place. If that were the situation, Patrick would need to make the most of it and rest to his heart's content before setting out. Settled on the fresh, warm grass, the view was still overwhelming.

It was sweet, but unlike a drink of wine, this didn't dull the senses; it heightened them, a bird whistled, then another, soon an entire flock sang in unison. Though their location was unknown, the sound made soon took another form... "Hello." What gives?! are the birds talking? No wait... Soon after, it all blackened, then went white, afterwards everything fell back to its place: from the blue sky to the stump he rested on, all the way to the people within the group, it wasn't the birds, but another adventurer. Too clean for an adventurer, his choice of clothes were all white and rather fancy, as the ruffles on the shirt let know. His hair was suprisingly messy in comparison, and harbored an older appearance due to its grey tone. "Yes, we'll be leaving from here." Was Patrick's reply after completely coming back to.

Looks like I won't be sleeping. It may be better off like this, I'll just get to cleaning these things, blood doesn't wash off easily. With both hands focused on the task, small talk had become second plane, only focusing on answering questions as opposed to asking them. Both kris daggers had become stained in crimson, as they lay on the dirt, Patrick drew a tiny bottle of a white liquid. Unknown to himself, it was a foreign solvent that proved effective against stains, particulary blood. A few drops on each was enough, the bottle back, a piece of cloth was rubbed on the two to get rid of the marks, instead replaced with a pungent, bitter smell.

[Ace] · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **[Ace]** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 11:00 pm

Derikku looked over the group, listening from a short distance away. He wasn't entirely willing to simply wander up to the party, though and simply stared and scented. His ears perked at a few words in particular: Adventure, rescue, mission? Mission implied tasks, and more so money. A wide grin spread across Derikku's face as he thought of money, food, adventure.

It was then that he pinpointed the location of the blood. It was strongest on one warrior in particular. His grin remained as he looked the person over, checking weapons, clothing, appearance. He couldn't determine the man's emotions, though. Not in his current state. Derikku stared for a moment longer, then turned his attention to the rather scrawny person with the flute. She ignored the group, nonchalant, more interested in her instrument than anything.

A waste. She would only serve to hinder the group. 'Help me, help me!' he imagined her screaming while he slew hordes of foes. His grin buckled into a frown. She would pass from the group soon. It didn't matter, all that mattered was the money and potentially the fame. Maybe he would attract a few more wolves.

"Maybe we'll get a few females for the pack!" Wolfie yipped happily in his mind. Derikku began to drool, thinking of the possibilities. He blinked, and for a moment had rather confusing imagery. It wasn't one, but two different pictures, simultaneously. How odd... Realizing the nature of the sights, he became slightly angry.

"She's mine!" he growled aloud. His own voice broke his concentration, and he blushed slightly, looking at the group before him.

Brovo · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Brovo** on Thu Apr 09, 2009 11:31 pm

Myria was happily falling from the cliff side before opening her eyes. The flute stops abruptly and without warning. Something felt absolutely wrong for a moment, as if something monstrous just growled at her. Clearing her throat and putting away her gray flute Myria quietly stands up. In a slightly shaky tone of voice she says. "Lets get going now.. I don't wanna stay here any longer than I have to. After all, the longer we wait the more likely a spy may join our ranks.. I mean, this isn't exactly private news." Taking a couple steps towards the East she quietly says. "Oh yeah, and my name is Myria the Songwriter.. Don't forget it." Whatever frightened Myria did a good job of it, the only thing preventing her from shaking was her pride.

Myria hesitated, she was waiting for everyone else to stand up and either follow her or go ahead of her. Her thoughts went to her memories as that one shocking moment made her almost choke. Whatever it was it felt completely and utterly wrong. It even stopped her from playing her flute, which was a first considering that Myria loved playing her flute. All she remembered at that moment was seeing a face in the water. She couldn't make out who's face it was, in fact she doubted she could recognize anyone's face in there anyway. Whoever it was though had a malicious intent, or at least it felt like an animal-like intent.. Something which she could not recognize as an emotion, but deep down inside felt fearful of. At least it was only a daydream gone wrong.. Right?

[Ace] · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **[Ace]** on Fri Apr 10, 2009 12:35 am

Derikku looked to the girl, now awoken... or apparently so. His eyes strayed to the rest of the group, deciphering what had just occurred. It seemed as though he was wordlessly accepted; could the party be so loosely formed? He shrugged inwardly. It wouldn't matter. He could watch his own back, fight for himself, eventually find his own food. He was certain at least half of the group would be left by the end of the journey.

"Half? And what makes you think so assuredly that there will be half?" Wolfie questioned. Usually Wolfie was quiet, but it seemed that the sudden disconnection had disturbed him, and spurred conversation. It was different, nice. He hadn't held a full conversation in quite a while. When one's in your head, with all thoughts shared, there wasn't exactly much to talk about.

'Well, the scholar looks scrawny, as does the girl. The mage seems as though he would get sidetracked, and become disinterested. The only one here who looks as though he could put up a fight is the one with those little daggers, but if it really came down to it, I don't think we'd have trouble taking him down...' Derikku thought the words as though he was saying them, but remained stoic, and alert, a side effect of constantly communicating inwardly.

"What if his goal isn't to fight you?"

'You mean like an assassin?' The thought sparked a series of embarrassing thoughts, but Derikku sighed away the feelings.

"Well yes. He's not heavily armored, he's got light, quick weapons, and that was his body in town we got blamed for..." Wolfie's presence wiled inside Derikku's mind. He was preparing himself to fight, unwillingly.

'Calm down. You do realize that we are killers, too. We just don't do the whole quiet kill thing.' Silence. Wolfie wasn't a fan of the shadowy type. They were hard to hit, and were far too cocky for their own good. They always riled Wolfie up, and when they died, it wasn't satisfying. It was similar to killing a rabbit- hard enough to catch to make you angry as hell, but less durable than satin sheets.

A warm sense of agreement filled Derikku's mind, calming him. For the first time in a long time, preparation had been made by both sides. Something weird was definitely happening. The odd disconnection was fading now, though. He could sense Wolfie almost as completely as usual. Derikku quickly filed the thoughts away in his mind for later thought.

"So..." he started, looking to Myria, "Mira, was it? Where are we going, and is there a big reward?" he muttered quietly, seemingly disinterested.

Brovo · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Brovo** on Fri Apr 10, 2009 12:59 am

Myria sighs lightly to herself, puts her hand up to her forehead in slight annoyance, and starts walking down the rather steep hill towards the East. "Myria. As in My-Re-A. Myria. Look if your here to get a share of the reward being that of enough to purchase a small kingdom then your in luck because I'm sure we could use your assistance. Now come on I really don't want a spy ruining our fun." The sun was past midday, but it wasn't quite evening yet. Hmm.. Probably about mid-afternoon.. Myria thinks to herself as the summer breeze picks up little bit of speed and rustles through the short grass. The breeze was coming from the south now; a crosswind instead of the breeze coming from the west like before. Looking to the south Myria notices a few clouds. Dark, but not really dark. Sort of Gray. Maybe it would be cloudy soon, maybe a light rainfall. Didn't look too bad. Before Myria knew it however she felt herself level out. Already at the bottom of the hill? Myria thinks to herself as she wonders if any of her comrades were following her.

(Sorry about the one paragraph post, but I thought I'd get things in motion.)

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