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Luthor Huss

"I am an instrument of change!"

0 · 488 views · located in arcadia

a character in “A Bedtime Tale of Arcadia”, as played by masato22

Description

"I am an instrument of change!"

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Full Name: Luthor Von Huss

Nicknames/Aliases: Huss or The Old Quarter Demon (By non-humans)

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Occupation: Murderer, thief, mercenary, freedom-fighter, etc.

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Faction Affiliation: Loosely affiliated with the Mortalis, believes in their goals, but not all their methods. He takes part in many of their battles, and is well known in their ranks.

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Description: Luthor is exactly six feet tall. He has a wide, thick build and is barrel-chested. He has brown hair, which is about shoulder length. He is averagely attractive and very physically fit.

Personality
Personality: Luthor is difficult to describe. His personality lying somewhere in-between a chivalrous knight, and a reckless berserker, often flashing between the two extremes quite quickly. As an informal member of the Mortalis, he has friendly ties with many of its members; however, there are certain people in the Mortails whom he considers just as much his enemies as the Seelie and other Fae. He is incredibly blunt and shows no respect nor recognition to authorities that have not earned it in his eyes.
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Perhaps the most defining thing about Luthor's personality is that he is an adherent of the ancient war god, Tyr. He believes himself to be an agent of change and chaos, and the nemesis of the Fae council. He has been a thorn in the side of the Seelie for years, and he loves it.

He has become something of a legend amongst the Mortalis and other humans in Arcadia; who hold him in high regard.

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He likes to drink and is a kind big brother type to those he befriends and defends. He is a tough guy but has a very apparent kind heart about him. However everyone knows not to take him as a pushover.

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Skills: Luthor Huss is a berserker, and gathers the emotion to actually "go berserk" from witnessing any kind of unfair or cruel treatment of others. This does not mean that he abhors violence at all. Luthor enjoys killing and fighting, but he does so out of a sense of justice.

However, Luthor does not go berserk from rage precisely, as most people would expect. Rather, his "berserk" is more of an ecstatic frenzy, an incredible enjoyment in battle and exacting justice that pushes him beyond the limits of most humans. While calm, Luthor is a normal human mentaly; however, in his berserk state his mind and soul become very simplified and streamlined. Think of it as a type of tunnel-vision or war-fog. His entire being becomes focused onto his opponent, he cannot "see" anything else besides his opponent(s). This means that trying to distract or confuse him with illusion magic ,while he is berserk, would be a momentous task for amy spell-caster.

So in the end, Luthor does not have super-strength or anything of the sort; just an incredible will and a slightly unhinged love of battle.

Weaknesses: He refuses to harm women or children.
Also, if he gets worked up into a strong enough berserk state, he can be just as dangerous to friends as to enemies.

Brief History: He started life as a slave, just like most other humans. At the age of 19, however, he slew his Elven master with a rusty hook in his own home. He left his former master's teenaged daughter alive, and was rewarded by her cutting him on his back with her blade as he made his escape. Afterwards, he melted away into the Old Quarter. There, in the ruins of an ancient human shrine, he found Gram; the great-sword which he uses as he primary weapon.

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Since then, he has devoted his life to seeking justice for the Human race. This quest led him to the Mortalis, and he has kept strong ties to many of its members.

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Other: Has had multiple run-ins with The Lanterners, none of them have ended well.

So begins...

Luthor Huss's Story

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Chapter 2: Slaver

as written by RichterGotz
Luthor felt a feral grin split across his face as he drew his cat-splitter and concealed it beneath his cloak. He adjusted the hood on his head, covering his round ears; and scratched at his face. It had been quite a while since he had done something like this, too long. He felt absurdly exposed and conspicuous; a human loitering on the side of a street in Elysium district, a sword clasped in his hand and murder on his mind. The very idea was so preposterous, it made him chuckle darkly. He eyed the various vendors and stalls along the street, selling everything from cake to cauldrons. He stood between two stalls, in the shadow of a tall pillar which supported a structure who's purpose he would never know nor care about. The stall to his left sold fresh fruit, the one to his right crossbows. The thought crossed his mind that a crossbow would be the ideal tool for the work he was about to do.

Then again, they didn't call him the Old Quarter Demon for nothing.

He tracked the Elf constantly, though he was careful not to look at him directly. He was a superstitious hunter when it came to things like this. Too many times he had followed targets for hours, only to have them suddenly spin about and meet his eyes suddenly. He had overheard a group of shady characters in the Goblin Market once, talking about how prey could feel the eyes of the predator; one advising the other to avoid looking directly at someone they were following. He had decided to try the trick himself, and had found that it worked remarkably well.

He waited until the bright blue garbed High-Elf passed him by, without a care in the word it seemed, then fell in behind him. He felt terribly out of place here in Elysium, but no one had called the guards on him so far. He tried his best to blend into the milling crowd, keeping his blade tight against him beneath his cloak.

The High-Elf walked west into the Temple District, just as he always did on this day of the week. Luthor followed him, trying desperately to control his rising excitement. He could feel himself slowly loosing the battle; the image of the beaten slave girl this creature owned flashing into his mind again. He didn't know who this Elf was, where he worked, who his family were, anything, he didn't care. Luthor had tracked this High-Elf for weeks simply because of the bruised and beaten girl he had seen being dragged back inside the cellar of his home. He drew closer to the Elf, as close as he dared, and continued to follow him.

Luthor had memorized this area of the Temple District already. Every shrine, temple, and place of worship were mapped out in his mind. He gradually slowed his pace as he approached the shrine he knew the Elf would stop at. Sure enough, the point-ear stopped in front of the shrine and knelt before it, whispering his fealty to some vague god.

Luthor felt his grin return and stalked forward, gently pushing other worshipers aside as he approached. He had decided to do it this way, instead of killing the Elf in the middle of the night, because he wanted to make a statement. He wanted to remind the Seelie and the Wizard's tower of his presence, he wanted to remind them that the Old Quarter Demon was still alive.

Without hesitation, he hoisted the Elf into the air by his long white hair, and shoved his cat-splitter through his chest. The Elf was dead before he could scream, the only thing escaping his throat being a ragged wheeze. Crimson blood sprayed all across the shrine, showering the figure of the god in its' subject's fluids. He heard yells and screams from behind him, but ignored them. Luthor tore his blade free, wiping the blood off on the Elf's blue livery. He quickly tied a piece of cloth around the corpse's eyes, then walked away at an even pace.

The cloth had human script written on it, in red ink.
"SLAVER."

Before anyone was really sure of what had just happened, Luthor had ducked into one of the nearest shrines and exited through the back door into another side-street. He was back over the river in the Old Quarter before the Laterners made it to the murder scene.

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Chapter 4: The Goblin Blacksmith’s home

written by RichterGotz
"What the hell, Huss!?!" The cruel faced Goblin snarled at him, his hooked nose quivering with barely restrained fury. "If you're going to wander around the streets murdering Elves, you'd best find another place to live!"

The Goblin stood in the middle of a smithy, a piece of red-hot steel clutched in one enchanted heat-glove and a hammer in the other hand. He only came up to Luthor's chest, but he was incredibly built for a Goblin.

"It was nothing, I was back over the river before the fools even realized what had happened." Luthor stated cooly.

He sunk back further into his wooden chair in the corner of the room.

"Nothing? Really? Oh, well I suppose that's fine then." The Goblin retorted sarcastically. "Just remember this Huss, I won't go down with you. Never bring your trouble back here, or I'll kill you before you cross the doorstep."

"Yeah, I know Turck. Besides, why would I ever endanger the only Goblin in Arcadia who isn't a complete money-grubbing bastard?" Luthor replied, grinning wolfishly as he rose from his seat.

"I am a money-grubbing bastard, and don't you ever forget it Huss." Turck said darkly. He turned around and began hammering at the steel again. It would become a cat-splitter sword by the end of the day. "I just hope he wasn't someone important..."

"Any news, besides well.... You know."

"The Festival of Unity is coming up, that's about it. I heard some hogwash over in Gob-Town about the Mer kingdom sending dignitaries to attend the Festival; that would be a sight to see before death, if its true that is." Turck, reaching the subject of Goblin gossip, immediately began chattering away while he pounded at the red-hot sword.

Luthor took his leave quietly and passed through the thick black curtain that led to his living space. It was more like a large closet than a small room. There was enough space for a cot and his things, but that was about it. Luthor had never been one for luxury, slave habits die hard. He walked over to the cot and picked up the six foot long sword that leaned against the wall beside it. He drew it from its scabbard, and placed the naked blade back against the wall. He knew there was no way the Laterners would suddenly show up at his door, wouldn't even think of checking the Old Quarter until one of their members recognized his calling card blindfold.

But it never hurt to be careful.

He decided it would be a good idea to check in with the Mortalis eventually, and let them know he was the culprit behind the city's most recent piece of news. That is, if they hadn't already guessed.

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Chapter 5: Memories of the Old Quarters Demon

RichterGotz
Luthor despised leaving Gram behind again, but he couldn't risk standing out anymore today.

"You leaving?" Turck asked as he made for the door.

"For a bit. I'd better check in, the Mortalis will have probably guessed it was me by now. They will want some sort of explanation I suppose." He replied.

The Goblin handed him a brand new cat-splitter, the hilt was abnormally long, enough room for two hands. The blade was also inlaid with a sapphire near the crossguard.

"What's this?" He asked, taking the strange blade in his hand.

"Special order. Just put it in locker 23 in the armory." Turck explained. He then handed Luthor an equally well-crafted scabbard. "Just don't lose it, you know how much trouble it is trying to set a gem in sword blade without magic?"

Luthor slid the sword into the scabbard and belted it on his right hip, opposite his own.

"Who has enough money in the Mortalis that they want to put sapphires in their cat-splitters?" He asked.

"If you would just join up officially, then you'd know." The Goblin smith replied.

Luthor grinned savagely.

"Yeah, like I'd let them put a leash on me Turck. I'd rather be a slave in the Goblin Market than have to follow along with some of those idiots." He chuckled.

The Goblin waved him away absently, returning to his work at the forge. "Just get out of here you crazy bastard."

Luthor stepped out into the air of the Old Quarter. It was a decent enough place to live, better than the Twisted Streets at least. For a moment, Luthor remembered his days in the Twisted Streets; he was quite sure he had killed more people in those few shorts weeks than he had in the rest of his life combined.

He adjusted the cat-splitters around his waist; so they would hang directly down his legs and not stick out through his cloak. He checked that his leather gambeson was correctly strapped over his chain-mail shirt. Finding everything in order, he closed himself in his cloak and made his way down the street, delighting in the near empty road. He imagined the throng of people that would still be around the body. The Lanterners would be frantic, desperately trying to keep the area under control. The family of the deceased would eventually find out, then the real game would begin.

Private investigators, assassins, mercenaries, he liked to believe was ready for it all. He wasn't so sure though. In his earlier days, he had had much more support from the original Mortalis. They hadn't actually been called the Mortalis then, they had just been a group of humans that lived in the tunnels and sewers beneath the city. Back when they had been true freedom fighters, instead of cowards and fools. Skilled thieves and fighters they had been, and they had supported each other through thick and thin.

Then, the trouble started. Wealthier people began to get interested. Bitter half-breeds for the most part, they had wormed their way into the close-knit group through financial support and political favors. They were the ones who eventually invented the "Mortalis" and "leadership positions", which they happily filled themselves.

Some of the originals, like Luthor, had tried to keep the group true to its original purpose, and had failed miserably. The "Mortalis" became more a fraternal organization than a resistance group. The scheduled meetings turned from military briefings into secret dinner parties, where the only thing resembling resistance was the eternal griping and complaining about the Seelie and Wizards.

Luthor had left soon after, a large chunk of the "originals" following him out. That was when he began acting on his own, and when he got the name "The Old Quarter Demon".

A few originals stayed behind, and were trying their best to steer the group back to their original goals. From what Luthor had heard as of late, they were actually making some headway. People had began talking about the "Mortalis" in Arcadia. Always in whispers, but still they were talking. A new leader in the Mortalis, an Elvish-halfbreed girl of all things, had actually started to turn things around for the better. Luthor wasn't sure what he thought of her yet, but at least she was better than some of the others.

He ducked into an alleyway, and pressed a combination of ordinary looking bricks on the wall of a building. A trapdoor slid open in the wall, and he walked down the steps into the Mortalis "Old City" Outpost. The door closed with a mechanical locking sound behind him.

He couldn't hid his grin as the younger recruits gaped at him. A few picked up weapons and made to encircle him. An grey-haired man in leather armor shoved them away.

"Back off you fools, you want to get yourself killed? That's Huss!" He growled.

The boy's faces turned white.

The older man approached him, a serious set face with intelligent eyes.

"You'd better have a good explanation for this Huss." The man said. "Higher up's have been scouring the city for you. Somebody from The Docks claimed it was Souloe, but I knew it was you."

Luthor drew the sapphire sword from his hip.

"Put this is Locker 23 for me, will you Kile?"

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Chapter 6: Kile "Kneecaps" Turner

written by RichterGotz
"Wait up Kile, what as that again?" Luthor asked.

The old man took a draw on his pipe, smoke billowing around his head.

"I said, there was a rumor going around the Docks that Souloe had committed the murder."

"People in the Docks know about it already?" Luthor asked incredulously.

"The whole city knows about it Huss. By the gods, its only days till the Festival of Unity and a ridiculously rich Elf is suddenly run through in broad daylight in the Temple District! People will be talking about this for years." Kile said.

He leaned back in his chair in the bunker's lounge area, and took another draw from his pipe.

"And you'd better believe..." He added. "That every wealthy merchant and slave owner from here to reeking Anaon will be locking their doors and barring their windows. Which I guess is what you wanted."

Luthor nodded slightly. Kile was an Original; one of the founding members of the Mortalis, and despite his age he still had a constant edge around him. If it was possible for a person to visibly leak lethality, Kile "Kneecaps" Turner would be that person. Luthor also relaxed into his creaking wooden chair, letting himself feel comfortable and at ease in the safe-house. He knew it was dangerous to get comfortable, but staying on edge for too long always made him irritable.

"So who was the Elf anyway?" Luthor asked.

Kneecaps sucked in too much smoke and went into a coughing fit. He slowly regained his composure and stared incredulously at Luthor.

"You mean you killed him and you don't even know?" He exclaimed. "That was Yalnir Iggismar! He's one of the richest merchants in Arcadia! His family is the one that was hefting up the money for the Festival! By the gods Huss, why else did you kill him if you didn't know that?"

"I saw a beaten girl being dragged into his house." Luthor simply stated.

Kneecaps' brow darkened, and he puffed another ring of smoke around his head.

"Well.... I suppose that's a good enough reason as any. A... Well... An old fashioned reason maybe, but a good reason all the same." He replied. "Still, it seems the fates decided to lead you to him, because you caused more of an uproar than you could have ever known."

Luthor grinned broadly.

"Heh, its been a while since the Fates decided what we did, eh Kneecaps?" He chuckled.

The old man chuckled darkly and nodded.

"Indeed. It has been far too long since this much tension has filled the streets of this rotten hell-hole!" Kneecaps stood and roared with fierce exuberance. "AAAHHHHH!!! It reminds me of the good old days Huss! When you were a whelp and I was handsome young man!"

Luthor stood and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Just wait old friend, I have a feeling things are going to get much better here soon. In fact, I wager that before the Festival is over, this city will be ripe and ready to burst." He said.

Kneecaps and Luthor walked out of the room together, and back up to the secret doorway.

"Are you sure you don't want to lay low down here for a while?" Kneecaps offered.

"No thank you friend, I've got more business to attend to. I've got to spread the word to the rest of the Safehouses. I don't want Souloe getting reprimanded by the Big-Wigs for the work of my cat-splitter." Luthor replied.

The older man laughed heartily and tossed an incredibly broad blade to Luthor, who caught it deftly. It was a meat-cleaver, Kneecaps' favorite weapon, with the lucky clover printed on the side of the handle.

"For good luck!" Kneecaps said. "Just make sure and give it back someday! I'll try and spread the word from here as best I can; I can't have some woman stealing credit for my boy's kill now can I?"

Luthor grinned and thanked his friend, sliding the cleaver into his belt, then he stole out of the trapdoor and back onto the street. He decided to make his way to the Bright District, and the next closest Mortalis hideaway.

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Chapter 8: Grimskull

written by RichterGotz
Luthor kept to the side of the street as he walked, making sure to keep to the shadows of the buildings he passed. He didn't particularly care for the Bright District, everything seemed to cheery and exuberant here. It wasn't that Luthor despised cheer or mirth, it simply that the happy colors of the streets and buildings could only mock the true decadence of the place. It was like spraying perfume onto a pile of manure, or putting lipstick on a Goblin. He hoped Freegor was present in the safehouse, otherwise the whole trip here would have been a waste. Eventually, he spotted the Westfold Inn down the street, the red-brick building more or less blending seamlessly with the others around it. He quickened his pace and made for the swinging wooden door.

"Oi, you there! In the hood!"

Luthor kept walking, diverting his course from the Westfold to the alleyway just adjacent to it.

"You! In the black hood! HALT!"

He felt his heart-rate begin to skyrocket. He willed himself to remain collected, and made it out of the street and into the alleyway. He heard footsteps behind him. Boots on the bricks. He recognized the crunch the boots made, they had metal studs on the bottom to create the distinctive sound. A Lanterner.

"I'll kill you where you stand if you don't stop, Huss."

His blood froze. He couldn't believe he hadn't recognized the voice until now, like two stones being ground together. He immediately stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, there he stood, Oddo Grimskull. The meanest son of a bitch that had ever worn a Lanterner badge, at least that Luthor had ever met. The Ork was seven feet tall, and as wide as two men standing beside each other. His ugly green face was scarred and mangled, and his lipless mouth was pulled back into a snarl.

"Grimskull..." Luthor began. "Never expected-"

"Shut that up!" The brute replied. "You try tossing words around and I'll cut you down! I'll be doing the talking here!"

The Ork gestured menacingly with his devastating piece of hardware in one enormous fist. It was a crossbow, but one of such size and build that no ordinary being could lift it with both hands. Luthor had no doubt that could snatch his life away in an instant, and no doubt that Grimskull would have no issues with using it.

Luthor threw his hands up and turned around to face the Ork.

"Alright, Oddo, I'll shut up."

"That's Sergeant Grimskull to you." Oddo said darkly. He took a few more steps forward, his death contraption fixed on Luthor's chest. "Now, lets have a quick chat, eh?"

"Sure thing Sergeant, what would you like to discuss?" Luthor answered politely.

"I just wanted to let you know Huss, just in case you've forgotten, that I'm a Lanterner. You know what that means, don't you Huss?"

"Indeed Sergeant."

"Good, then you know what my job is? What I'm payed to do?"

"To catch criminals Sergeant."

"That's correct Huss, my job is to catch criminals and to stop injustices. Anything that disrupts the peace of this fine city, it is my job to root out."

"It is an honorable calling Sergeant." Luthor replied, a dark grin coming unbidden to his face.

Grimskull noticed it, and his eyes glittered in the dark of the alley.

"I know it was you Huss, nobody else is stupid enough to try it." The Ork said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Sergeant. I hope you aren't accusing me of something with no evidence to back up your claim." Luthor replied.

The Ork lifted something into the light with his other hand. Luthor recognized the blindfold from early that day, with the red writing on one side.

"This is all the evidence I need Huss." Grimskull growled.

Luthor knew he was about to die, he waited for the crossbow bolt to shatter through his breastbone and pierce his heart. But it never came.

"Unfortunately, the rest of Arcadia needs more. And I won't stoop to your level Huss. I am the law, and I'll follow it to the letter. I just wanted to make sure that you remembered who I was." The Ork finished.

The green skinned brute walked backwards out of the alley, leaving Luthor to almost collapse out of relief. He leaned against the brick wall of the Inn and caught his breath. He really wished he hadn't of left Gram behind. He glanced around, to make sure he wasn't being watched, then discretely made his way into the Westfold Inn.

He allowed himself to cool off a bit more before approaching the Inn keeper. Sergeant Grimskull was the only being in Arcadia that had ever made him truly terrified. Not because of how vicious and brutal he was, but because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hate him. Grimskull had never owned a slave in his life, and had devoted his entire carrier in the Lanterners to rooting out the slave trade. They had the same goals in mind, but still ended up on opposing teams. Luthor couldn't hate him, and that scared the piss out of him.

He realized as he approached the bar that he couldn't remember the password to enter the safehouse. The barkeep eyed him suspiciously; he was obviously a new employee for Freegor, and didn't recognize Luthor. Suddenly, Luthor remembered his gift, and placed Kneecaps' cleaver on the bar. The barkeep recognized the clover on the handle immediately and led Luthor down into the trap door behind the bar.

It was quite far down a long, winding staircase, but eventually he emerged into the main room. Immediately, he saw Freegor with a small, pale woman clutching at his arm. Luthor felt his face split into a grin again, the shock of meeting Grimskull had passed. He walked across the room, ignoring the prying eyes, and slid Kneecaps' cleaver back into his belt.

"Freegor." He said, as he came close enough to get the man's attention away from the woman. "If you're not too busy?"

The man looked at him in surprise.

"Oh! Huss, speak of the demon! We were just talking about you." Freegor began.

"Really?" Luthor replied, disinterested in the man's small talk with the prostitute. "I just came by to claim responsibility for today's news."

Freegor nodded.

"I suspected as much, well... here, sit down for moment." The man offered, gesturing with his womanless arm for a chair to be brought over.

Luthor complied and sat down with the man. He scratched at his eye patch, the presence of the woman making him uncomfortable for some reason. She just made him feel odd, she obviously was special in some way, one could tell that simply from here exotic attire.

"Who is this?" He asked, gesturing with his head towards the white-haired woman.

"Ah, this is Saresae. An informant." Freegor replied.

"Really?" Luthor raised an eyebrow.

He guessed he should have expected as much, a simple whore would not have been granted access to a place like this. Unless, of course, Freegor was a bigger fool than he appeared.

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Character Portrait: Luthor Huss Character Portrait: Ingwe Leralonde
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Chapter 9: Saresae

written by Gryazi, souloe, and RichterGotz, edited by Masato22

"Luthor Von Huss..."

The man was bigger than she expected. He must move quickly, but his apperance bore no such promises. She disentangled herself from Freegor to get a closer look. Her eyes perked in observation, dialating to large black sapphires. Saresae slinked her bosy up to the

"You are spoken very much of in the streets. A name spoken in beautiful tones, whether anger of admiration. I would like to know more of your person. Say, some services of mine for some stories of yours?" she murmured, closer to his face than a human would be comfortable.

Some of the baubles in her hair chimed as Saresae tilted her head. Freegor looked disticntly uncomfortable. From both her sudden inattentiveness toward himm, and her slithering body language. With but a few more seconds of her eyes drinking his visage, she returned back to her place. Saresae grew most hungry when something was veiled.

"You are spoken very much of in the streets. A name spoken in beautiful tones, whether anger of admiration. I would like to know more of your person. Say, some services of mine for some stories of yours?"

He backed his face away instinctively as the lithe woman approached him. He had never been comfortable around women, not since he was slashed by the female elf when he killed her father. As her nose came just past the tactful border towards his own; he passively realized that his hand was clutching Kneecaps' cleaver rather tightly. He did his best to lower his gaze and make it perfectly clear he was not interested in her wiles. It was quite difficult though, there was no mistaking that this woman, Saresae, was an expert at her trade. Tyr demanded no vow of chastity from his subjects, but Luthor prided himself in his own. He had devoted his life to the destruction of the Seelie, and he needed no distractions. All he could do was hope she did not take offense, or spread rumors that he was a eunuch. He had been forced to deal with such misunderstandings before, and did not feel like having to again.

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief as her inquisitorial eyes broke their stare, and she returned to Freegor's side.

"Unfortunately, I don't really have any stories worth telling." He replied, as she re-ingratiated herself with the Mortalis captain.

At least now he knew for certain the woman was a foreigner, and not simply a costumed prostitute. There was simply no mistaking the accent of an outlander. She didn't smell like Arcadia, or at least any place in Arcadia that Luthor had ever been. There was a difference in her manner that no amount of practice or training could mimic, with the exception of sorcery of course. In fact, the woman's exoticism was so apparent that Luthor doubted whether she was human at all. Certainly not a normal human, at any rate.

"Hah! If you keep saying that after today, I'll start calling you a liar Huss!" Freegor said cheerfully. He squeezed Saresae a bit closing to him as he chuckled for a few moments.

Luthor wasn't sure how he felt about Freegor so openly dealing with a prostitute, even if she was an informant. He decided it really wasn't his place to judge Freegor, but still.

"I see you've got Kile's chopper there." Freegor stated. "I've heard stories of that blade from the old days."

Luthor nodded tapped on the cleaver's handle.

"Borrowed it for a time." Luthor replied, trying his best to ignore Saresae's eyes.

He stood abruptly and reached forward to shake Freegor's hand.

"Sorry for leaving so soon, but I'm burning good daylight here. And you obviously have other things to get too." Luthor said, glancing at Saresae.

"Sorry for leaving so soon, but I'm burning good daylight here. And you obviously have other things to get too."

Walking silently down the long winding staircase, Yuna could hear a familiar voice. "Huss." She recognized. The man, the Old Quarter Demon, was once a part of the original resistance that had gone rogue in a sense acting on his own. She knew him by his fame mostly and he, she expected, likewise. They had met in the past, of course, but never quite got past the stage of simply acquaintances sharing the same goals. He was a strong character, well known through the ranks for both his strength and his attitude.

"Soul" Before Freegor could finish, Yunaria halted him with a single hand motion. Men. Still, as long as it did not jeopardize their mission Asuna was generally silent about these things. Freegor probably had new information as well seeing Saresae here, but since she is here in person. "Freegor, Saresae." Then there was this matter... "Huss." Souloe called again as if the first time was not enough to catch his attention. "I hear you've been rather busy in the temple district." The armor clad Yunaria stepped forward to hear what Huss has to say for himself. Of course, her mask and armor weren't her real gear but merely a manifestation of the illusionary spell Moonlight Mirage. Still, it served its purpose as a safety measure to hide her identity and that was enough.

Huss was not directly under the Mortalis so the normal chain of command was meaningless before this man. But with any luck, Saresae hopefully would have brought information about the Seelie member that was to be the next target. Since Finneaus was murdered and the suspicion thrown onto the Seelie, if someone of the Seelie was assassinated it should trigger a string of retaliations between the two most prominant power of the land. Internal affairs between the two powers were, of course, both political and classified information for the general norm. But if she pushed the right buttons, surely even Huss would move according to plan.

"I hear you've been rather busy in the temple district."

Luthor turned about, surprised by the sudden voice addressing him. The woman now standing behind him looked at him expectantly from behind a shimmering mask. His mouth suddenly tasted of iron, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Sorcery. He resisted the urge to lash out, it took a conscious effort to keep his hand from straying to his cat-splitter. He understood she was "on his side", but like every other time he had encountered her, he was put on edge. Her sorcery was enough, but her fair hair and manner reminded him far too much of someone else he once knew. He rubbed his eye-patch, unconsciously letting a dark sneer split across his face as a memory returned to him. He recovered himself quickly, and hoped the honorable lady did not take offense at him. He chuckled mentally, it seemed quite possible he could exit this room with two women thinking less of him than when he entered.

"Miss Souloe..." He began, inclining his head respectfully. "You're skill is spoken of throughout the city."

Luthor hoped his greeting could smooth over his earlier untactful mistake. But it was obvious the masked woman had not come to this place for pleasantries.

"Yes, I've been quite busy today. I'm sorry if my handiwork has caused you any grief." He added.

It was impossible to gauge her reaction physically, but Luthor had a feeling Souloe was not very interested in reprimanding him. He had always been able to gauge emotions or tension quite well, thanks to the honed instincts that any person who lived their life in hiding acquired. Right now, he could bet that Souloe was more interested in action than talking, he was grateful for this, but cautious at the same time. He hated thinking like this, but there was a part of him that doubted whether such a soft looking woman could keep her wits and strength about her when the real killing began. He did not know Souloe near well enough to be sure, and the stories he had heard from other Mortalis captains seemed to turn in her favor. He decided that there was no way to know for certain.

Luthor sincerely wished to take his leave now. He had apparently dropped in on a scheduled meeting, but something stopped him. He wanted to know what kind of information this Saresae had to offer.


"You're skill is spoken of throughout the city."

The city? That would be an exaggeration. Maybe within the Mortalis. Yunaria thought to herself. Without first demonstrating an impressive prowess in battle it would have been impossible for her, a woman, to command the Mortalis. Even if she had the intellect and the funds to support the human rebels, the elites -those who took pride in their skills in combat- would simply have accepted her as one of many generous sponsers and then ignored her authority without an ounce of respect. What she needed was not a bunch of self satisfying elites but an organized army to liberate humanity and regain all that was lost.

"Yes, I've been quite busy today. I'm sorry if my handiwork has caused you any grief."

"Oh?" Souloe's dark hollow voice filled the room with a blatant tone of sarcasm. If Luthor had truly attacked her earlier, things would have been much easier. "So you are aware?" Yuna questioned rhetorically. "Then I suppose that the Old Quarter Demon wishes to apologize with more than just words." She paused a brief moment to let the words sink in. "I imagine that he is more than willing to apologize with actions. Wouldn't you agree?" Souloe manipulated her mirage to reveal a devious knowing smile.

But before Huss would have a chance to reply, Yuna suddenly interrupted without turning. "Saresae." Souloe spoke first and then turned towards the pale haired prostitute. "Can I assume that you bring the unfortunate news of an accident that is about to occur? About a fae of standings from within The Seelie?" Souloe's words were twisted with honey speaking casually as if the event had already taken place in some land far far away.

It was honey clearly offered to Huss as his act of 'apology'. She wanted the Old Quarter Demon to be performing the next assassination... an assassination of a fae within the Seelie at that. Yuna's eyes peered from behind the illusion towards Huss expecting an overtone of snickering and delight.


Sarasae replied after a moment, “It would have to be a high standing member of the Seelie indeed. You should look no further than the blood of a council member.”

"What about 'Lord' Ingwë Léralondë? Does he make many midnight strolls to your bed?" Luthor asked. "Hard to miss, he's one of the few Elves in Arcadia who actually looks old.

Ingwë would be a good pick, as far as Luthor knew. He was respected and loved in the Seelie, a charismatic Elf who had spent many centuries on the Council. He had been an up-and-coming politician during the 'Magical Revolution'. He was one of the bastards who pushed for the Great Apostasy, the summoning of dragons. He would be a worthy kill, if they could get to him.

Luthor began to warm to the idea. If, in the end, it was up to him to do the deed, he would make sure the bastard didn't get off as easy as his friend from earlier.


"Oh? A sudden request." Yunaria commented idly buying herself time to inspect Sarasae for foul play. To gaze deep into the window of her soul; To check for specific wrinkles that might be tiny muscle movements betraying Sarasae's intentions; To check for cold sweat that sometimes appears when one was unnaturally tense. Yet all these, Asuna knew instinctively, would be meaningless against Sarasae if she was as Souloe had imagined. Women of her occupation lived off of deceit, wiles and charm... unless she was one of the exceptions... holding a unique weapon of seduction that Asuna cannot begin to imagine. "Very well." Yunaria replied simply. Information was rarely dealt this way, but. "If you have what Huss desires then this is a favor I am willing to grant. Freegor." Souloe nodded as Freegor went to the back room as if to retrieve the payment. Information brokers that were not directly under the Mortalis meant they hold no particular loyalty towards the group. Their relationship generally begins with money and ends with money. Trust is not easily earned, because misplaced trust could lead to one's own death. Freegor must have realized this because he was mumbling something inaudible as he left. Souloe then waited for her answer to Huss' particular request. When Freegor later returned, he tossed the bag simply over to Souloe.

“He is not one of my visitors. I only deal with the aged once they are no longer in this world. However, a brothel closer to his home houses my dear friend’s little sister Lunay. She is ripe in beauty and fae blood. She is frequented by a fae politician that often unknowingly leaks information to her. He is a key to finding the right time to strike Ingwe.” Sarasae replied.
Tossing the bag over, Souloe silently approved the transection. "If the Seelie believes that the Wizard's Tower is retaliating..." Yuna held up her index finger. "One more." Though this conversation was about an assassination there was not a single mention of it now. The kill was never the objective, it had always been a means to the end. Thus Yuna made it clear that Sarasae would be paid not for the assassination but for the securing of a single idea in the minds of the Seelie. "If all later investigations leads to no results..." Yunaria referred to possibly the Seelie or the Lanterners while holding up two more fingers on her other hand. "Two more." As if to say that it would be a total of three more bags of money Asuna raised all three fingers on one hand. "A gift from me personally if all goes well."

Yunaria stole a quick glance at both Greegor and Huss to make sure they had no problems with her decision. She did not expect any resistance however, since the extra pay is going to come out of her private funds and not from the Mortalis. Then Souloe turned her gaze back towards Sarasae waiting for a response.

It should be a tempting offer. As long as the results are achieved, Sarasae needed not even participate and she would still get not just double the pay but now effectively four times the money. How she achieve the result would be up to her. If she failed however, like say if Lunay squealed or if her involvement was discovered in the investigation, there would be only the usual pay that the informant had already received.

"Keep Freegor updated and..." Souloe looked over at Huss to draw Sarasae's attention over. "I believe your request..." referring to how the mercenary wanted someone's assistance with her plan. "has been heard."

If all were in agreement with nothing else to add, Yunaria would slip away hidden by the mask of her Moonlight Mirage while her illusion would stay its place. Long after she has gone, and the conversation fully complete, the illusion of Souloe would turn towards the darkness fading away with the black gradient as if it were some sort of teleportation spell.

Luthor grimaced slightly as the sorceress seemingly evaporated into the air. He couldn't say he wasn't surprised, but he had expected some kind of outrageous exit by Souloe. It was probably meant to sew shock and awe in them, and solidify her position as de-facto leader of the coming operation. Once again, he felt a twinge of spite in his soul. He sighed and shook the inactivity out of his limbs.

"Well..." He began, striding over to Saresae. "It looks like that is that. I hadn't really expected her to come and play with us, but it looks like I'm taking orders from the Mortalis once again."

He began to make his way to the steps leading back up into the bar. He stopped short of the first step and looked back.

"Tell me all about this scheme of yours on the way if you please, no sense in wasting more time. Oh, and by the way, Souloe isn't one to default on her debts if I've heard correctly. So you can rest assured you've got quite a payday coming if you pull through for her. Don't lose it all at one gambling hall."

He smirked and began his way up the spiral staircase. He realized he should have thanked Freegor for his hospitality, but it was too late now. He smelled the proverbial blood now, and his own was pumping hot.

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Character Portrait: Luthor Huss
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Chapter 17: The Bread selling Gnome of the Bright Bridge
as written by RichterGotz
Luthor paced down the street, trying to move hurriedly back to the river. He didn't like staying in the Bright District for too long, his worn and ragged garb drew too much attention to himself. He hoped that Saresae would catch up soon, but until then, he was going to do a little research on Ingwe himself. The streets were beginning to get crowded now, with the majority of the district's residents heading home for the night. He found himself getting anxious, the Lanterners (at least Grimskull's immediate lackeys) would certainly be on the lookout for him now. He wouldn't feel safe until he was out of the Bright District and back over the river.

Every face looked suspicious, every hand threatening. He drew his hood closer around his head and quickened his pace. Street lanterns powered through magic ignited, their glow growing brighter as the sun drew closer to the horizon. They would insure that the "Bright District" always remained bright, even after sunset. This was not a place Luthor felt comfortable. More than once he glanced over his shoulder, positive that eyes were poring into him. He hated this, he hated feeling like prey. Lanterners were easily dealt with across the river, where he could slip into the shadows and catch them by surprise; but on this side, with the Seelie so close, he felt like a fish in a net. He hurried along, and eventually made it to the bridge.

He wasn't sure what the name of the bridge was, or if it even had a name at all, but he had traveled across it more times than he could count. It was enormous, and one could just barely make out the other side of the river from its entrance. Vendors who were too poor to sell in the Bright district, but not poor enough to sell in the Goblin Market, lined the sides of the bridge. They sold good, handmade things. Not trash, like most Gobs did, but not useless ornaments like in the Bright District. It was good quality stuff really, and Luthor found that he spent most of his personal time alone on this bridge. He made his way to a certain vendor that he frequented. The Gnome that ran the place sat on a high stool behind his wooden stall, and sold fresh unleavened bread that his wife and children baked back at their home in the Old District during the day. They usually stopped baking early in the afternoon, and at sundown the Gnome gave away what was left to whoever wanted any (though the individuals too poor to pay for their own food during the day usually received his attention first).

He was a kindly old Gnome, though Luthor couldn't pronounce his name to save his own life. Tonight it seemed, however, the fates had something else in plan for Mr. Gnome. He was tossing out bread to the people as they passed by,(it had become a nightly game for many of the vendors, who often helped him hurl the flying discs of bread) calling out the names of those he knew and simply hurling bread at some people for the sport of it.

"Huss!" He yelled, a rotating disc of bread already hurtling towards him through the air.

Luthor caught it deftly, though managing to crumple it in the process. He grinned and waved his thanks to the Gnome. He was about to take a bite out of the dry bread when a murmur passed through the crowd ahead of him on the bridge. A group of figures suddenly pushed their way towards him, Luthor recognized the Lanterner uniform instantly.

He melted into the crowd as best he could, he began eating the bread hungrily and tried his best to act like just another hungry soul. It seemed to work, the Lanterners moved past him and continued moving, trying to shove the crowd away as they did. Luthor realized that they were screening the bridge, looking for anyone suspicious that they could bring in for questioning.

They were looking for him.

He waited and planned his next move. He had no idea how many patrols were moving down the bridge towards them, and he would certainly be caught by one of them. He was too perfect a suspect, a tall man dressed in a dark cloak and hood. Not to mention his blades. He seriously considering scaling along the side of the bridge when another commotion began.

Apparently, the Lanterners, unaware of the Gnome baker's nightly routine, had been caught in the bread crossfire. They were hot and bothered, and were determined not to leave the bridge with their stuck up pride hurt. Amongst roars of disbelief amongst the other vendors and patrons, they had begun to shove their way through the crowd towards the stall. The Gnome simply sat on his stool and adjusted his glasses calmly.

"Do you even have a permit to run this dump you runt?" A Dark Elf, obviously in charge of this little band, sneered.

He was obviously the only Lanterner who had been truly bothered by the bread assault. The three others; an Orc, a young female Wood Elf, and a glowering Goblin, looked more annoyed by their commander. The Orc stepped forward beside the Dark Elf.

"Come on Turil, why even bother, none of them have permits. Let's just go." He offered.

Turil waved him away with his hand.

"No way, I'm tired of these stupid low breeds and their insolence. Come on out from back there you runt!" He said.

The Gnome sighed and hopped down off his stool, Luthor was surprised by just how short he actually was. The Gnome might have stood on equal levels with the middle of his own thigh.

Turil picked him up by the scruff of his neck and placed him in front of the wood elf.

"Bind him Lora." He ordered.

The wood elf knelt down and enchanted a pair of restraining harnesses around his wrists, mouthing an apology as she did so.

The Goblin cackled maniacally and flicked the Gnome in the forehead. Luthor could feel his hackles rising and glowered at the group. He wanted desperately to try and vouch for the Gnome, but he knew Turil's type, all he would accomplish would be to get himself arrested. He was about to turn around and walk away, leaving the jeers and boo's of the crowd towards the Lanterners behind him.

Then all Hell broke loose. From somewhere, no one was sure where afterwards (or wouldn't tell the Lanterners who interview them), a flying disc of unleavened bread flew through the air and hit the Dark Elf square in the face. He stumbled, stunned. For approximately three second, the entire crowd went silent. Turil the Dark Elf, captain of squad 9 of the Lanterners, uttered a horrendous roar and tore the cobblestone floor of the bridge off all around him with magic, knocking people to their feet. Then, he hurled the fist sized stones in the crowd. There were screams as beings of all races and religions fell beneath the onslaught. A drastically downplayed number of six beings were killed outright, with twelve dieing of head trauma in the following minutes. A grand total of thirty two were injured.

Before anyone else could quite realize what had just happened, Luthor Huss had drawn both of his blades. He could feel something hot and warm running down his face, he knew it was blood, and he knew it wasn't his own blood. He charged through the crowd, keeping his blades close to him to avoid catching the beings around him. As soon as he had made it clear of the crowd, and into the circle of blood stained space the Dark Elf had made, he brandished his cleaver and hurled it. The blade punched through the Dark Elf's ribcage and punctured his heart instantly. He was dead before he could live through the guilt of what he had just done.

The other Lanterners turned from the horror to face him. Luthor spared them no time, and immediately snatched the Goblin by the neck and slit his throat with his cat-splitter. The little green horror squealed like a stuck pig as he died, and Luthor hurled his corpse away like a sack of potatoes. The Orc was on him now, spiked club raised and ready to crack open his skull. But the Orc was confused and slow to respond. He hesitated in his strike, and Luthor sidestepped around the club as it smashed into the ground. He chopped off both of the Orc's hands, then punched the pommel of his cat-splitter into his chest, sending him onto his butt.

He decided not to kill the Orc, it was a split second decision, more a whim than anything else. He turned and faced the Wood Elf, she simply stood there stupidly with her back turned to him. He realized that she was still staring at the carnage her captain had just wreaked. She probably hadn't even noticed the fight going on behind her.

"First time seeing bodies?" He growled. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her over to the Gnome's stall, past the bodies of her comrades. Then he stomped over to the shell-shocked Gnome and placed him in front of her.

"Off." He said. He didn't need to explain anymore. The Wood Elf gestured mechanically, like a zombie, and the shackles fell of the Gnome.

Luthor tied her to the stall with a bit of rope he found in another vendor's wares, then moved on to the rest of her group. He tied his blindfolds around each of the bodies' eyes, he wrote "murderer" on Turil's, and "pig" on the Goblin's. He then dragged the Orc back to the stall next to the girl.

"Can you heal?" He asked the Wood Elf.

She nodded.

"I can, but not without my hands..." She was in shock. Luthor unbound her hands, confident she was no threat, and gestured towards the Orc's hands.

"Work on the rest after you're done." Luthor said simply. "Are you alright?" He added, facing the Gnome.

The Gnome just stood there, shaking, and eventually managed a nod.

"Not a word, alright?" He asked.

The Gnome nodded again. He patted the Gnome's head and walked away, he took another piece of bread with him as he left.

Luthor jogged over to Turil's corpse and dislodged his cleaver, he wiped it on Dark Elf's uniform, then sheathed it along with his cat-splitter. Among a mixture of cheers and moans of pain, Luthor Huss slipped back into the crowd and made it to the other side of the river once again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lolindir Fefalas Character Portrait: Prince Aearion Turin Character Portrait: Merilwen Vanamarilla Character Portrait: Prince Faramire Elessar (Eldeen) Character Portrait: Luthor Huss Character Portrait: Ingwe Leralonde
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Chapter 18: Omen of the Red Moon
Faramire Elessar, the unicorn keeper, and Eldeen were guided to their quarters for the night. The human servant was a quiet girl of 17. She looked at Faramire in wonder. She could sense that he was different from the elves she was so used to serving. He carried an air of peace and calm about him. “This is the room for Prince Elessar and Prince Eldeen.” The girl spoke nervously. “This room is a bit larger than the normal size room your highness. It has a bed and the most comfortable floor mattress for the Unicorn Prince Eldeen. I- I hope everything is to your liking.” The girl hung her head low as she was afraid to give either the Eldeen and Faramire eye contact.

“Thank you very much. I am sure that all of your accommodations are fine and in order.” Faramire replied calmly.

The girl bowed a little and began to turn around. She then stopped short and asked the prince. “Um-excuse me your highness, but I
 um, I
 have a question.”

Faramire looked at the girl passively, “Yes, child of the Earth, what is it?” Faramire spoke calmly.

The girl jumped a bit in fear. She had forgotten the sudden spike of boldness that she momentarily gained in initially stating that she had a question. “Oh, well
 is your highness an elf like those here in the seelie? You don’t seem like one of them but your ears are still elf-like. I beg you to forgive me! It was a foolish thing to ask!” The girl was shuddering in fear that she had made a big mistake.

“Fear not, oh child of the Earth. You have spoken no wrong to me.” Faramire had replied to her with a smile. “I am not an elf like those of the Seelie. I am a form of Fae of the forests. You might say a forest nymph.” Faramire’s form of speech was most interesting to the slave girl. She wondered why he called her a child of the Earth.

“Oh. I see. Thank you for answering a question from the likes of me.” The girl replied humbly. She felt more comfortable speaking with him now.

Faramire’s face became concerned. He knew of that most all of Arcadia enslaved human beings but he and those of the Pale Crystal Wood held no particular discrimination against humans. So the girl’s response as if being beneath him troubled Faramire. “Oh young child of the Earth, thank you for having me in your land as a guest. You have treated me kindly. There are many and elf lord here that could learn from you young one.” Faramire said with a bow. The girl was surprised and she blushed vividly. “Would you mind showing me out side to the courtyard? I am not quite ready to retire for the night.” Faramire asked with a smile. Eldeen remained silent.

“Oh sure, I’d love too!” The slave girl said in an excited manner. She lead the group out into the courtyard where the moon shined brightly down from the sky. “It’s a beautiful night out. Would your highness be needing anything else?” She inquired.

“No that will be all, thank you very much. I know how to get back to the quarters provided for Eldeen and I so you need not be of worry. Goodnight young Child of the Earth.” Faramire bid farewell. The girl bowed and departed. Faramire knelt down on his knees and looked up to the blue moon and began to speak, Eldeen followed suite. “Oh great moon, from which my people come, we give thanks to you for your travelling blessing.” Faramire and Eldeen began to glow brightly.

The moon began to turn almost red in color. Faramire began to worry. “Oh great moon, why doth thou cry?! Red is your shine a scream of sorry consumes you, why?” Faramire pleaded to the night sky. Eldeen began to neigh.

A willowy voice wisped through the air as it was carried by the night’s breeze. “I court the Earth, and it is on this eve that innocent blood was shed on my beloved Earth. Earth weeps and so do I.” The moon spoke to the Unicorn Prince and Faramire.

“Faramire, the Earth mourns the loss of innocents. It has seen much trouble. Something is a foot. We must remain vigilant and do what we can to see that Arcadia see’s peace so our moon again knows peace.” Eldeen said to Faramire calmly.

“The great moon has seen a human man of partial sight. He has slain the slayer of the innocents. He fights for a freedom stained in the blood of humanities oppressors. I Faramire Elessar much desire to speak with this man of partial sight. For it is this man the moon watches with fixed eyes.” Faramire spoke with resolve to meet the man of partial sight, Luthor Huss.

The two turned in for the evening and a new day began. The council meeting was afoot. It was the day before the Festival of Unity. The Seelie council gathered together in the grand council room. It was a beautiful elvan styled room of trees and branches. The councilmen sat together in at a long elevated table. The guests who presented issues to the council sat facing them on a lower level of flooring. It was this set up that made the councilmen seem a tad intimidating.

The mer royals presented their treaty to the Seelie council as a representative did annually. The Councilmen looked it over. When it was time for each councilman to give his vote they stated their vote aloud one by one. Ingwe approved of the treaty first. Councilman Rumil Nenharma seconded the approval with a grand smile. Voronwe, Cirdan, Amroth and Meaglin also approved of the treaty. However, there were two among the group that would not see the treaty passed without a few amendments.

Ingwe spoke, “Mablung Tasartir, what is your decision?” Ingwe smiled as he asked. Things seemed to be going about swimmingly.

The bronze half orc half elf turned toward Prince Aearion Turin and spoke with a sharp look “I disapprove of this treaty as is.” His face was stern and un-flinching.

Ingwe’s smile faded fast. Aearion’s eyes widened and Merilwen placed her hands over her chest in shock. Aranhil glared sharply at the councilman of bronze armor. The other councilmen looked at Mablung in confusion. “What is the meaning of this? Why disagree?”Voronwe shouted.

Ingwe slammed his mallet hesitantly, “Voronwe, I must ask you to remain in order. Now, Councilman Mablung Tasartir wants to amend the treaty before it is passed. Before we ask what Councilman LĂłlindir FĂ«falas’ decision is, is there any among you councilmen that wishes to second an amendment?” Ingwe asked with a grave look. He was not happy that someone was opposed to the peace treaty that the mer people and the Seelie had upheld for so long.

“Actually I second the request for an amendment.” Lolindir said with a nonchalant expression.

Ingwe sighed, “Since we have a second to the motion for an amendment it shall be heard. Councilman Mablung, what is the proposed amendment?”

“I would think this treaty is good for the recent past but not our future. And it is with OUR future in mind that I desire an amendment. This treaty looks out only for the interest of the mer kingdom. It allows them to not be held accountable for the affairs of the land when in times of trouble. The Seelie is in danger my lord. Arcadia is in danger. The mortals are killing elves in the streets. Times are growing darker and the wizards of wizard tower are still a problem not yet dealt with. We of the Seelie can’t tackle these issues without help, for are list of allies grows thin. I would like to request the future aid of the mer militia in times of crisis.” Mablung spoke in a serious tone.

“What? This is insane!” Prince Aearion was livid.

“We must come to a vote and if more are in favor of the change we will amend the treaty.” Ingwe said in a tone of disapproval.

The councilmen voted and only Meaglin, Mablung, and Lolindir, were in favor of an amendment. The other councilmen declined the amendment and the treaty was placed back on the table as is. Ingwe spoke, “Why don’t we continue the meeting after the festival of unity tomorrow. All will be better thought through after a bit of celebration. As council head I call this meeting adjourned.” Ingwe slamed the mallet down and the council members left for the day.

“Worry not Aearion. All will be fine.” Merilwen gave the prince a hug. He was silently furious that there were councilmembers that would disturb the peace of the mer kingdom.

Faramire and Eldeen looked on quietly. They didn’t like the scene that unfolded in the council room. “The earth shall soon see much discord. I feel it trembling even now.” Faramire said quietly to himself and Eldeen.

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Character Portrait: Luthor Huss
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Chapter 19: The Moonlit Path home

as written by RichterGotz
Luthor gritted his teeth as he made his way back home. The sun had set now, the moon had risen and glared down mockingly at him. He was glad the streets were empty, because he hadn't felt his blood boil this hot in a long time. He had washed the blood off his face and hands once he had reached the other side of the bridge. But he could swear he still felt the sticky warmness slithering down his face; could still smell it in the air and taste it in his mouth. His vision was blurring, it was getting hard to think clearly. He forced himself to think, but it felt as if each thought had to force its way through waist deep quick-sand.

He forced himself to breathe deeply and calmly, in through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. But it was like trying to hold back from vomiting. His face felt tight, like his skin was stretched too thin across his skull.

The moon seemed large tonight, larger than normal. He had always found comfort in the moon, it was a cool light, a pale light. A light that was calm and soothing. Unlike the sun. The sun was hard and cruel, and pushed into every crevice of the earth. The sun allowed no secrets, the moon respected privacy. The moon was larger tonight, in fact, it seemed incredibly large.

Slowly, Luthor realized that he must be hallucinating. In fact, judging from how deep into his "state" he was, he was quite surprised that there were no daemonic specters leering out of the shadows at him. They had come before, and gradually, Luthor had learned to ignore them. Still, it was nice not to have to see them out of the corner of his eye.

He stumbled along, gradually coming out of his state. The towering shanties of the Old City cast jagged shadows across the street, which meant the moon was quite bright tonight. His mind grew clearer, and he began to feel more like himself. He still felt the blood though. He reached up and touched his face, there really was still blood there.

He wiped his hand across his face, a nosebleed. Good. He had bled from his eyes once after an episode, and that had not been fun. Eventually, he spotted the room he shared with Turck the goblin in the distance. He cleared the remaining distance at a quickened pace and pushed open the rotting wooden door. Turck was already asleep by his forge. Luthor left him and drew back the curtain to his own room, he immediately threw himself onto his cot and fell into a fitful nightmare.

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Character Portrait: Luthor Huss
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Chapter 21: The Old Quarters Demon Awakens

as written by RichterGotz
Luthor Huss awoke to the sound of steel being pounded. He shifted himself and sat upright on the cot. A pale, dawn light pushed into the room through the curtain that acted as his room's door. He stood and pulled it back, revealing Turck's forge. The goblin was as at work as usual, beating slabs of red hot metal into short swords and close fitting helmets. Turck was the main supplier of the weapons and armor that the Mortalis utilized. Luthor wasn't sure why the goblin worked for the Mortalis, but he did, and he made fine blades.

A plate with two fried eggs lay on the only table in the room, next to a pile of broken knives and swords that would be mended later in the day.

"These for me?" Luthor asked.

The goblin didn't answer. Luthor could tell he was upset, the goblin was a frequent of the night-time scene in the area, and had undoubtedly heard about what happened on the bridge last night. Luthor sighed and cracked his knuckles, then set to eating the eggs.

"Festival of Unity is today." Turck stated.

Luthor suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, his face flushed hot. The assassination. Saresae, Souloe, Ingwe, it all came back to him in an instant. He had never felt so ashamed in his life. In the course of the nights' events, he had completely forgotten about the assassination. He felt the eggs coming back up his throat, he rushed to the window and spewed out into the street.

Turck whirled around and looked at him.

"What the devil is wrong with you?" He asked.

"Its nothing." Luthor lied, wiping his face with the hem of his cloak.

He rushed back to his room and grabbed his greatsword Gram from its leaning position on the wall. He slung the scabbard's belt over his shoulder, so the blade hung across his back.

"I'm leaving." He said, as he made for the door.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alatariel Léralondë Character Portrait: Lolindir Fefalas Character Portrait: Prince Aearion Turin Character Portrait: Merilwen Vanamarilla Character Portrait: Prince Faramire Elessar (Eldeen) Character Portrait: Luthor Huss
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Chapter 22: The Festival of Unity

The dawning of the Festival of Unity was upon the citizens of Arcadia. Many of the servants of Spire Rock rushed about preparing for the festival. Many balloons and decorations were applied everywhere. The already abundantly beautiful land was adorned with even more ceremonious pomp and measure. There were rounds of musicians that played all the day long. About the land, vendors set up booths and shops. Everyone was in a festive mood, lest you were a slave.

Ingwe walked about the Seelie looking over the day’s preparations. He was pleased with the outcome of the work everyone was doing. He smiled as the sun shined down on the land. LĂłlindir FĂ«falas gracefully approached Ingwe. “Morning Ingwe. I see we are still vigilantly wake and clinging to this falsehood of unity today.” He smirked. Lolindir liked to tease Ingwe’s sense of bright optimism. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the Festival of Unity. Lolindir was swift to admit that the land was in fact divided and lacking equality. He didn’t necessarily want things to become exactly “equal” Perce but he did want everyone to stop “lying” to themselves about equality that wasn’t there.

“As pessimistic as usual you are Lolindir. Even today’s beautiful bright sun fails to eliminate the perpetual rain cloud over your disposition.” Ingwe rebutted with a grand chuckle. He was an expert at dealing with each councilmember and their unique personalities. They were somewhat like his children, even though he indeed had his own daughter, Alatariel LĂ©ralondĂ«.

Alatariel Léralondë

Alatariel sat in the seelie’s private garden courtyard. She sat amongst the flowers staring into a fountain of clear, sparkling holy water. She looked worried as the breeze wisped through the columns and into the garden. She was reading the wind. The Elvan priestess carried a look of great worry. The wind carried a sense of foreboding as if afraid of something. She caught hold of a petal that was being carried by the wind and placed it into the holy water. “Winds of change
 what is it that you bring? Tell me why my spirit senses such uneasiness.” She whispered.

The wind began to pick up and the water of the fountain grew still. It showed an image of a elf surrounded by light. His face was not able to be seen for the illumination was far too great. He began to fade and with him the light. 7 figures stood together but soon began to separate from one another. The water then began to boil and displayed an image of beasts. They carried a frail child who was covered by a transparency of a spirit, strong and ominous. The fountain created a flash of light and returned to normal. Alatariel had just received a prophecy as she was indeed a priestess. She quickly rushed in search of her father.

The Mer Royals

Merilwen led Aearion and Aranhil about having them try the different foods of the land. She was very excited to see the different foods, some of which she’s tasted before and some she simply desired to try for the first time. “Oh you must try this dish!! It’s one of the most wonderful things you’d ever eat!” Merilwen exclaimed, her cheeks rosy and expression full of glee.

“You’ve said the same thing about the last five dishes Merilwen! I’ll be too fat to float if you keep feeding me things!” Aearion fussed. He was just as curious as Merilwen but was too proud to show it.

“No one forced you to eat anything Prince
 Merilwen simply suggested that you try those things and you quickly devoured them. You actually seemed pretty eager to eat them if you ask me.” Aranhil chuckled. He loved to call Aearion out.

“But no one asked you! So hush cousin Aran!!” Aearion now felt embarrassed. He could never fool Aranhil. Merilwen laughed aloud.

Merilwen spotted Elemmire the dryad who sauntered about looking over the flower arrangements for the festival. “Lady Elemmire! Good day to you!” Merilwen greeted her and swam about in the air toward the dryad.

“Ah~ good morning dear Pearl Princess! You look lovely and happy today! Enjoying things so far?” Elemmire asked as she smiled elegantly.

“Indeed we are! I have a bit of a favor to ask of you if that is alright.” Merilwen said sheepishly.

“Oh~ well now my dear let us not have autumn leaves!! Don’t be afraid ask me anything!” Elemmire giggled.

“Thank you! There is an important matter that I must see to in the forest of Anaon. Are you familiar with the existence of a seaside cottage on the edge of the Anaon forest? I am in need of a guide there. Could you take us there tomorrow?” Merilwen requested shyly.

“Oh
 I do believe I have seen that cottage! It was quite the subject of interest for a while many years ago for us forest dwellers. There was a human that would go to and fro fron there on occasion. He looked to be quite handsome even when he aged. He treated the forests very respectfully to my surprise so none of the forest creatures gave him any trouble. But I haven’t seen him in a few years now. Why do you know about this place dear princess?” Elemmire was most intrigued about this inquiry.

“I knew that man very well. He is actually very dear to me and I must see to him. Will you show us the way?” Merilwen seemed a bit reflective as she spoke.

“But of course I shall show you the way! By the way I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to be nosey!” Elemmire laughed a loud. She had a somewhat seductive voice about her.

“Oh thank you very much!!” Merilwen was overjoyed. This was the first step toward saving the love of her life.

Faramire and Eldeen

The unicorn keeper walked about the festival area. Those who were not setting things up were not yet allowed into the ceremony area yet. Many of the human workers and lower ranking servant creatures stared in awe at the prince of the unicorn keepers. They were finally seeing a fable come true. Faramire smilled at the sight of little slave children playing as their parents set things up. The little ones were seemingly carefree much to his surprise. Faramire and Eldeen had received word from the moon that beasts of the Wild neared the Spire Rock. Eldeen could always sense the presence of werewolves as they had a very specific form of energy about them. Werewolves were also creatures associated with the moon. Faramire couldn’t determine whether the group of wolves were harboring any malicious intent but his focus was on finding Luthor Huss.

“I know he shalt be here, as sure as the sun chases The Great Moon. I much desire to speak with him. He is dear to the Earth’s heart. It concerns the Moon’s beloved Earth and thus concern’s us.” Faramire spoke to Eldeen while looking directly ahead.

“Indeed, Faramire, I hope he will be willing to speak with us. I desire to meet this man the moon watches with fixed eyes as well.” Eldeen spoke to Faramire. His words echoed quietly in Faramire’s heart.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luthor Huss Character Portrait: The Bzou
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Chapter 23: The Girl and the Wolf Spirit

as written by RichterGotz

Luthor Huss kept up a brisk pace as he approached the Bright District once more. It was strange crossing the bridge again, evidently the Lanterners had gotten a skilled sorcerer there late in the night. The place appeared perfect, as if nothing had even happened. For a moment, Luthor questioned whether or not the event had even happened; perhaps it had merely been one of his night terrors? However, the baker gnome's stall was gone, and despite all the magic in Arcadia the air still hummed with the energy of magical rage and death.

Luthor pressed forward, over the bridge and into the Bright District. The streets were crowded with families and merchants preparing to make the hike to Spire Rock for the Festival. The atmosphere was lively and happy, the bleak undertones of current events blissfully forgotten. Eventually, he found himself once again in the Temple District. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since he was last here, when in reality it had only been the previous day.

For some reason, the happier the scene around him became, the more savage scorn he felt for the whole festival. He could feel his old self returning, the strength came back into his arms and legs. His head suddenly felt clearer than it had for some time. He would put on a show. Oh yes, he would show these fools a performance they would never forget. He grinned as he finally reached the border of the Tower Gardens.

He hadn't set foot in the Gardens for at least a year, maybe two, but his sense of scorn for the place had never left him. The flowers stank, the trees were twisted, Elvish and ugly, and the plants were left free to run amok across the path. The crowd around him pushed forward, eager to view the gardens that most of them had never seen before in their lives.

Then there was a scream.

Luthor shot a glance in the direction of the noise, and felt his hackles rise dramatically. Wolves, filthy, Tyr cursed wolves. They stalked through the garden in a monstrous bipedal stride, snarling and snapping at those who stood in their way. The largest of them carried a slight figured form on its shoulders. The figure wore a mask or helmet carved from wood in the shape of a wolf's skull. "It" was a young human girl, and yet not. She wore garbs made of fur and feathers, a helm fashioned from the skull of a monstrous wolf leering on her head. Luthor tasted foul sorcery all over her as the wolves passed by him. She emitted an oppressive, musky spiritual force that was somehow familiar. He began trembling with anticipation, he felt his face split into a grin again. He knew this feeling, the feeling of a worthy foe; one of a somewhat kindred spirit.

Suddenly, she turned her head, and for a moment they made eye contact. Her eyes were not human. She was not a human, if she had been, than she was not anymore. Luthor snarled audibly, but resisted the terrible urge to draw Gram and slay the abomination where she sat. He didn't know what was going on here, but he had a feeling he was going to kill some wolves before the day was out...

Luthor relaxed as the wolves passed him by. He was both relieved and somehow disappointed that he hadn't come to grips with the wolves. He knew he could slay a wolf easily enough, even one that walked on two legs. The girl however, that was another matter entirely. He had no idea what kind of witchery she had at her disposal, but he had no doubt it would be lethal. Still, the thought of meeting the witch in close combat thrilled him. Normally, the thought of harming such a fragile looking girl would have galled him; but some deep instinct told him that whatever the thing was, it was no longer a girl.

A commotion had erupted following the startled silence that had accompanied the wild dogs.

"Were-wolves! Oh god's above, what could this mean!?" A floating pixie exclaimed.

"That girl! You don't suppose that's.... No.. It couldn't be..." A grizzled looking Orc added.

The swirl of chaos enveloped Luthor. He let himself be carried away by the current of the crowd, towards Spire Rock and the festival grounds. Though the physical stress of being so close to the wolves and their witch queen had passed, he couldn't cool his blood. All he could think about was her eyes, those ungodly wolf eyes that burned into his being. He knew that he had to kill Ingwe, he had to strike a blow against the Seelie. However, at that exact moment, every fiber of his being screamed for mortal combat against the wolf girl. His steel and blood-rage against her witchcraft and wolves.

He chuckled, feeling more alive than he had in ages.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Prince Aearion Turin Character Portrait: Merilwen Vanamarilla Character Portrait: Prince Faramire Elessar (Eldeen) Character Portrait: Luthor Huss Character Portrait: Brandeau Levitt Character Portrait: Aranhil Rinion
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Chapter 25: The Pirate Resurfaces

as written by RichterGotz and Masato22

Luthor suddenly realized that he was being spoken to. His smile faded, suspicion immediately taking hold.

"Do you want a stone, sir?"

The creature standing before him was strange; if a bat could breed with a human, it would look like this. Suddenly, the tales from the Goblin Market night scene returned to him. Stories of foul monsters that drank the blood of the living and could shape-shift into a bat. Luthor's hand strayed to the hilt of his cleaver. Still, the being seemed friendly enough, though he was not an expert on the facial expressions of bats. She, since the being's body type and form suggested a female, was holding a small stone in her hand. A simple script character had been engraved on its surface. Luthor took it in his hand and held it up to his face; the taste of iron suddenly crawled across his tongue. It was enchanted, then; probably a simple ward meant as a good luck charm.

Luthor smiled as he eyed it. To be honest, he needed all the luck he could get today. He glanced back at the she-bat.

"How much?" He asked. "Or is this so you can earn some charity points in the afterlife?"

He could feel the brutish power runes that ran down Gram's blade resonant with the simple luck charm.



Faramire Elessar and Eldeen

"Oh, thank you for the explanation sir...?" Krel trailed off. "My name is Krel Erro. Are you Eldeen?" he asked, addressing the unicorn.

Eldeen nodded his head and telepathically responded to Krel. “Yes, I am Eldeen of the Pale Crystal Wood. It is a pleasure to meet you Krel Erro. I’ve but a few occasions to have seen a Gargoyle before. Faramire and I do not often leave the Pale Crystal Wood so it is indeed refreshing to meet all of Arcadia’s wonderful citizens. Gargoyles are often found in cities with lots of stone correct? I would imagine that to be ideal for you.” Eldeen’s voice was deep and soothing, the listener usually felt a warmth in their heart when he spoke.

“My apologies for barging into your thoughts. Fore Eldeen and I are slightly telepathic to a certain degree and we often hear the random thoughts of others. I definitely did not intend to be so rude my friend. I sense you were having trouble with something. As a courtesy to you I offer my assistance to you in any way I can.” Faramire spoke to Krel with a smile.

The Mer Royals

While the three Mer Royals spoke with Elemmire the Dryad regarding visiting the cottage in the woods, the home of Aiden Vanderhill. They planned to see what they could do to set him free from his crystalized state. Elemmire saw a peculiar figure in the crowd. It was Brandeau the pirate. He walked through the crowd looking at all of the festivities. He was a human but not a slave and that fact seriously bothered many an Arcadian.

“Who’s that mysterious man over there? He looks to be quite the bad boy
” Elemmire pointed to the man whom she found to be attractive.

Merilwen, Aearion, and Aranhil looked over to where Elemmire pointed only to the pirate Brandeau. Brandeau also spotted the group and a sarcastic grin crept across his face. He walked over toward the group and waved hello. “Well
 my, my, my! It’s so nice to run into you fine Merfolks today! I knew I’d probably see you on stage or something but not in the crowd itself! I’ve become quite a lucky fellow!” Brandeau spoke in a cool raspy voice.

“Why would you come here? Aren’t you afraid someone would try to enslave you?” Merilwen protested.

“Well you see my dear, my documents are firm and in order so I should be having little to no trouble with that love. Perhaps I’ll spend the day with you then love. Since good ole Aiden is nowhere to be seen, I might as well keep you company.” Brandeau replied with a grin. He placed his arm around Merilwen’s shoulder and Merilwen responded by frosting over his hand. He quickly pulled it away.

“Alright, alright love. I get it. I mean you no harm, just putting it out there. My qualms with you are settled love. I’m more interested in my personal vendetta with Aiden. By the way
 You wouldn’t happen to have heard the name Luthor Huss before have you?” Brandeau asked.

“Why no I have not heard that name before.” Merilwen responded curiously.

“That’s certainly not an elvish name, so if this Huss is a human, we certainly wouldn’t have heard of him. Nor do we care to know him.” Aearion sneered.

“Well, I’m Elemmire it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr
?” Elemmire introduced herself flirtatiously.

“Ah~ How could I ignore such a beautiful petal? My apologies love, I am Brandeau. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Elemmire! I am most glad to meet a Dryad most beautiful like you.” Brandeau responded with a smile. Elemmire blushed as Brandeau kissed her hand.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Prince Faramire Elessar (Eldeen) Character Portrait: Luthor Huss Character Portrait: The Bzou
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Chapter 26: The Old Quarters Demon Meets the Unicorn Keeper

as written by RichterGotz and Masato22

The sheer scale of the festival grounds astounded Luthor. They were like nothing he had ever seen in the city before. He stalked through the crowd, ever vigilant. He was sure that Ingwe and the other disgusting nobles wouldn't be here in the outlying fairgrounds. They would be closer to the epicenter, most likely about to take part in some obscene ritual that would officially initiate this debauched revelry. He hoped they were all there, all of them. He wanted them all to watch. Luthor licked his teeth and pulled his hood closer around his face as he passed through one of the many wooden entrance gates.

There were Lanterners everywhere, more than Luthor had ever seen in one location before. He was sure there were even more disguised and mingling in the crowd as well. The thought made his skin crawl. How many screams would pierce the night in the Old Quarter, just so these pompous pigs could breathe easy?

As expected, the outlying parts of the festival were mostly comprised of large, tented eating areas and food stalls. Not to mention a plethora of different alcohol vendors. Luthor was amazed at how many people were already here. The entire city must be practically empty, and he was sure there was no way the wooden fence confines of the fair grounds would be able to contain this party once it really started. The entire city would become on wretched hive of loosed inhibitions by nightfall.

It was almost too easy, he would kill Ingwe, a few other members of the Seelie for good measure, then simply make his way to the nearest sewer entrance through a city too drunk to care. In fact, there was only one issue that was pressing into his mind at the moment. The wolf girl. He didn't know what she was, or how she would react to him slaughtering a couple of nobles; but something told him she would most definitely be present, and not intoxicated.

His hunch proved truthful. There she was, sitting at a grand, open air gathering amongst the other Seelie and Wizard's Tower representatives. She seemed to have caused quite a fuss, and almost every gaze in the vicinity was directed at her. He came as close as he dared, making it a point to not look directly at her, in case she sensed his gaze. He heard many mumblings in the crowd, and gradually pieced together what the wolf girl really was.

“She is now the Bzou, leader of the wolves. A human possessed by an ever-living spirit of the Wyldes."

Luthor sneered, so she really wasn't human eh? Not even a female anymore really. He felt Gram hum with anticipation, the power runes on its blade fired up in response to his excitement. Not really a girl, that meant he didn't have to hold back if....

Luthor turned towards the voice, a boy, a gargoyle, and a... unicorn... Strange, he had never seen an actual unicorn before. The boy and horned horse reeked of magic, and radiated a powerful presence. They stood out in the crowd starkly, Luthor wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed them before. The gargoyle seemed quite taken aback as well. The boy and unicorn were obviously nobles, but then, why weren't they in the place of honor along with the others?

Strange. More and more loose ends were beginning to appear. Luthor realized that his night might be much more complicated than he had thought.


As Faramire spoke to Krel the gargoyle, he felt alerted to a peculiar presence. It was as if the moonlight had shown in the daytime to him. The moon in which was his deity was informing him that the one he sought was present. Faramire looked up to the sky briefly and then peered over his shoulder in a melancholy manner at Luthor Huss. He turned to Krel and bowed. “My apologies my friend of stone, but I must meet with someone that I have sought for some time now. I would like to give you this as a gift of parting.” Faramire said as he handed Krel a small white crystal that sparkled. “This is a crystal from the Pale Crystal Wood. It is a item blessed by the Great Moon of the night kingdom. If you are in trouble and in need of a miracle, this crystal will anoint you with divine favor. If you’ll excuse me.” Faramire smiled and turned to walk toward Luthor Huss. Eldeen followed behind Faramire after bidding Krel goodbye.

Faramire slowly walked up to Luthor Huss and smiled. He could feel Huss’ human heart echo with a warm and vibrant rhythm. He could tell that this man carried change everywhere he treaded. He stood in front of Huss and then bowed. Eldeen followed suit and bowed to Huss.


“Sincere Greetings to the one the Great Moon watches with a fixed gaze. I am Prince Faramire Elassar of the Pale Crystal Wood. This is Eldeen, lord of the Unicorns. We have been searching for you in an effort to speak with you. We mean you no harm, therefore arms are not necessary. You are dear to this Earth, therefore you are of importance to the Great Moon. Today you shall bring fall leaves and eternal winter winds to and elvish tree. Oh bringer of change, may I ask you your name?”

The boy spoke as he bowed. He used terms and titles unfamiliar to Luthor, and his speech pattern was sing-songy and antiquated. Still, the message was clear, he had just been introduced to a horned horse, and the moon stalked him.

"The Great Moon huh? I didn't know the moon could watch anyone. Still, I appreciate your gesture. My name is Luthor Huss, I'm a blacksmith's assistant." He stated.

He wondered why the boy had made it clear he meant no harm. It wasn't normal practice on a normal day, let alone during a festival of friendship and unity. He quickly dissected the introduction in his mind, and realized that, somehow, this boy had an inkling of what Huss planned on doing that night. Anticipation creeped into his heart, if he was pointed out by this duo and the Lanterners descended on him, he would have to fight his way all the way to Ingwe right then and there.


Faramire giggled a little at Huss’ reaction to his talk of the moon. The horns blew in celebration of the ceremony’s beginning. Faramire turned slightly to look back at the stage. Ingwe, Alatariel, Voronwe and the other council members stood atop the stage and the crowd began to focus their attention on the main events. “I fear we shall have little time permitted to us to speak with each other. Here, this is something I should bestow upon you. It’s is known as the miracle stone. It will activate when your heart is in need of blessing. Until we speak again, do know that the Earth, that is so dear to our great Moon, see you as a king and steward of change for this land.” Faramire said calmly before looking up to the sky while holding his hand over his heart. “Oh Great Moon, thank you for allowing us this occasion.” Faramire said softly in a slightly chant like manner. “We shall see each other again, my human friend.” Faramire said with a smile.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alatariel Léralondë Character Portrait: Prince Faramire Elessar (Eldeen) Character Portrait: Luthor Huss Character Portrait: Ingwe Leralonde
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Chapter 28: Becoming the Enemy

Luthor Huss

The festival went onward with many presentations of a grand scale. So many people crowded the festival grounds. The whole city was ripe with joyous music, food and drink. Luthor Huss stood amongst the crowd keeping note of everything going on. He sized up each council members, they looked a bit tougher than any of the elves he’s assassinated in the past. Luthor hoped he didn’t have to fight his way through them to get to Ingwe. While some of the final presentations were going about, Luthor noticed someone slip close to him in the mass of people. He was prepared to strike however the energy of this person was quite different than anyone in the crowd and yet familiar. With a subtle glance Luthor spotted the individual in question. It was Sarase.

Luthor looking forward toward the stage, addressed the strange woman. “What are you doing here? You didn’t have to take part in the action, I’ve got this covered.”

Sarase replied calmly in her sultry voice. “I’ve come bearing a gift from Soulue. I shall leave the task to you however I must fulfill my end of the bargin.” She quickly wrapped her slim figure around Huss’ waistline, which made him quite uncomfortable. She slipped him a magical blade underneath his cloak.

Luthor could feel the magic emanating from the weapon immediately. He had to repress the urge to rip it from his belt and toss it away. “What the hell is this for?!” He exclaimed in the most muffled manner he could achieve. Huss hated magic and wanted none of it near his person.

Sarase released Huss and replied, “Soulue requires that this task points the Seelie toward the wizards as the culprit, not the Mortalis. The Old Quarters Demon shall have to use this to complete the task at hand. You must be as a ghost this time, nothing too conspicuous. I have delivered the message. Good luck Huss.” With that, Sarasae slipped away into the crowd leaving Huss standing with gritted teeth.

Huss was quite angry at this turn of events. Not only did he have to use a blade imbued with magic, but he wouldn’t even get credit for his own kill outside of the Mortalis members that were aware of the assassination. Luthor at this point wanted to walk away from the whole thing. But he was a man of his word so he had to see this through to the end. The presentations had come to an end. The Seelie members and guests were allowed to socialize amongst the crowd of people. Now was Luthor’s chance to approach Ingwe.

Getting to Ingwe would prove difficult as he was most never alone. He was a very popular man. Luthor kept his eyes fixed on Ingwe’s every movement, trying to ignore the magical energy emanating from the blade Sarasae had given him. It seemed that Ingwe was heading for a quieter area with his daughter. Luthor kept a safe distance away but he never let Ingwe out of his sights.


Ingwe and Alatriel

Ingwe had received a security update from the lanterns that were patrolling the area. He wanted to let Alatriel know that all was well and that no suspicious activity was discovered thus far. He sent for her and soon afterward she arrived. “My dear, let us talk in a more discreet place.” He guided his daughter away from the crowds towards the gardens. “Regarding your vision earlier, I have received confirmation from the patrols that no suspicious activity has been reported. All is well Alatriel so please let your worries diminish and enjoy the festival.” Ingwe said with a gentle smile.

Alatriel was relieved to hear the news but she still couldn’t shake her worries so easily. “Alright father. I’ll be at peace.” She replied quietly, her face attempting to smile lightheartedly.

Ingwe continued, “I was quite excited to announce to the kingdom of your engagement to Councilmen Lolindir. Everyone seemed pleased as well. How are you feeling my dear? I’m sure you must be excited.”

“I am. He’s an honest man. I am afraid that everyone is waiting to ask me a million questions regarding the engagement now.” Alatriel said as she looked off into the festival area. She spotted Lolindir being surrounded by well-wishers, all inquisitive about his engagement. He looked above annoyed as he didn’t like to be pestered by a bunch of people. “I’d better go face them. Lolindir looks about ready to hurt someone. See you later.” Alatriel gave her father a hug before departing.

“I love you Alatriel.” Ingwe said calmly.

She turned around with a happy smile, “I love you too father.”

Ingwe watched as Alatriel headed over to rescue her fiancĂ© from the bombardment of questions and people. He didn’t notice Luthor Huss creep up behind him quietly. Luthor grabbed the magic blade and pointed it at Ingwe’s back. “You call for help and I’ll make sure you suffer. Now walk quietly with me to a quieter place.” Luthor said in a dark and serious tone. Ingwe felt the blade against his back and knew what was to happen. He didn’t struggle.

The two reached an empty ballroom within the Seelie. Luthor closed the door behind them. He grabbed Inwe by the arm and spun him around to that Ingwe faced him. “Turn toward me. I want you to see me when you die Fae scum.” Luthor said to the councilman. He was growing excited at the prospect of the kill.

Ingwe looked Luthor up and down. He was oddly calm. “So Alatriel was right. There was indeed danger here. I was the one to disappear in her vision. So you intend to kill me. Well I definitely don’t intend to make it any easier for you than I already have. If you wish to end me then you’ll have to fight for your prize. A dead man desires to know your name young one.”

Luthor grinned widely. This was all becoming increasingly thrilling to him. “Luthor Huss is the name.” Huss replied. He readied the weapon given to him by Sarasae.

Ingwe raised his arms and a wind picked up in the room. Ingwe began to glow a golden color. Ingwe knew his time had come but he had a plan. “The bonds of destiny bind us Luthor Huss. Come now, take my life.” Ingwe said calmly.

“No more talking. It’s time!” Luthor replied. He quickly charged at Ingwe and slashed at the councilman. He attacks were very accurate but Ingwe was supernaturally swift in movement. Just when Huss landed a blow it proved to be parried by a magical staff that appeared to protect Ingwe. Luthor knew that he needed to end this quickly. It wouldn’t take too long for people to notice that the councilman was gone for too long. Before he could act again, Ingwe knocked Huss into the air with a strong wind blast. Huss landed hard on the ground but quickly got back up. He charged Ingwe once more but at the last moment he sidestepped and attacked Ingwe from behind.

Ingwe was stabbed in the back with the enchanted sword. The light that glowed around Ingwe transferred to the sword and into Luthor. Luthor felt a burning sensation in his body. “I am
 now
 a part of you, Luthor
 Huss
” Ingwe said as he was dying.

Luthor could feel a strange and magical energy invading him. His muscles tingled and his veins pulsed. He felt as if his body was not simply his own anymore. Luthor was honestly terrified. He had no control over what was happening to him. Ingwe dropped to his knees as the life slipped away from him. Huss dropped the enchanted blade that Sarasae had given him in horror. “What the hell did you do to me!?! Answer me!! Damn you answer me!!” Huss screamed at the dying elf lord.

Ingwe looked up to Huss with a smile. “I am
 joining you. We are now one step closer in fulfilling our destiny
” Ingwe’s breah was labored. “My daughter tried to warn me
 I had a vision of my own some time ago
 ahhh!!” Ingwe winced in pain and collapsed to the floor. “I didn’t understand until now. You and I are bound by a common fate. However you who were once of the shadows shall step into the light and I of the light must fade into the shadows of your soul. I am your enemy no longer
 Friend
” With that Ingwe passed away.

Luthor’s body glowed and he felt a stronger heartbeat pounding inside of himself. It was as if Ingwe was there inside of him. He was, the elf lord’s body was dead but his spirit was not gone, not for a long shot. The glowing subsided and Luthor breathed out heavily trying to calm himself. Just then an Fae maiden overheard Huss’ loud protest and peered into the ballroom only to see Ingwe dead. She screamed and many lanterns came rushing into the room. Huss was now terrified. This had gone down worse than he could have ever imagined. He was surely going to be killed, by a bunch of blasted lanterns no less.

Huss could hear Ingwe’s voice. “It seems the Unicorn Keeper Prince has given you salvation. The miracle stone, it has made us invisible. Now is our chance.” Huss looked around frantically he could hear the dead elf but couldn’t see him. He spotted Ingwe glowing near the room’s door, motioning as if to usher Huss out of the room. Huss was freaked out but made a mad dash for the doorway and was miraculously unnoticed. Luthor sprinted out of the fairgrounds and ducked into the nearest alleyway he could find. He held the glowing pale crystal that Faramire had given him in his hand and its glow dimmed before snapping in half. It’s magic had faded. Luthor could now be seen once again. However he was out of the frying pan so he wasn’t too worried. Who would have thought the magic he so hated would actually serve to save him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alatariel Léralondë Character Portrait: Lolindir Fefalas Character Portrait: Prince Aearion Turin Character Portrait: Merilwen Vanamarilla Character Portrait: Prince Faramire Elessar (Eldeen) Character Portrait: Luthor Huss
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Chapter 29: Darker Days begin

The festival of unity ended early and in tragedy. The festival grounds were in an uproar and chaos as the lanterns ripped through the area to find Ingwe’s assassin. Alatriel wept holding her father’s lifeless body and Lolindir knelt down beside her in an attempt to console his grieving fiancĂ©. The mer royals were taken aback by the happening.

“It seems that things are a mess here in the surface world.” Aranhil commented as he witnessed the distress and panic thick in the atmosphere.

The people of importance such as the mer royals, the councilmen, the unicorn keeper, elindil and the byzou were escorted to safety. Merilwen noticed that Brandeau had suddenly disappeared amongst the chaotic crowd. “The pirate is missing! He’s vanished!” She said.

Elemire turned and looked beside her where Brandeau was once standing only to find the spot vacant of his presence. “He was here but a moment ago.” She said.

Aearion cringed, “I should have had him arrested when I had the chance! I’m sure he had something to do with this odious deed!” He protested.

The lanterns inspected the blade used to assassinate Ingwe and soon discovered it was a magic blade, one that only those of the wizard’s tower used. The attention immediately centered on to Elendil of the wizards’ tower. He looked about seeing the distrust on the faces of the Fae of spire rock. This was becoming a dangerous situation for him. The people were angry, and looking for someone to take the fall. Accusations began to be thrown his way and one of the elves accused Elindil of committing the murder himself. The mage frowned and narrowed his gaze upon his accuser. “I beg your pardon! You would be wise to hold your tongue before casting such hateful lies.” Elindil replied in a stern yet composed manner. “I was among people and the center of attention the whole time. I could not possibly nor would I have ever committed such treason!”

The councilman Maeglin felegund countered, “But the weapon and evidence suggests that one possessing a magic sword slew the high councilman. If not you then it is most likely one under your command. Lantern Guards Seize him and any from the wizards’ tower present at once!!” He commanded. The lanturns immediately drew and pointed their weapons at the bishop and his followers.

Elendil was sadly disappointed. He knew that the wizards had been set up, but by whom was unknown. He knew he had to get himself and his people to safety. With a quiet chant the symbol of the true wind rune glowed bright and a mighty gust of wind and gale kept the lantern guard at bay. Like the wind the Bishop and his people vanished into thin air.

Lolindir watched the whole scene unfold and remained silent. He knew something deeper was afoot but he had no evidence to support his inkling. As everyone was ordered to clear the area and return home or to their quarters Lolindir said quietly to Meiglin, “Just because a magic blade was used does not mean that it was a mage who killed Ingwe. A little too obvious don’t you think?” He said in a cold manner. Maeglin snarled quietly. He rolled his eyes and began to respond yet Lolindir had already walked off. Lolindir hugged Alatriel close to his muscular frame. “Come my dear. You must rest. I’m here for you.” Lolindir said tenderly to his fiancĂ©. It was rare to hear such a mellow tone from him.

Voronwe approached Lolindir and Alatriel, “You are not the head councilman Lolindir. You must call an emergency council meeting tonight. We have much to discuss and to sort out.” Voronwe said in a fatherly tone. He was very much devastated by Ingwe’s death but he had hope in the new council head. Voronwe felt he could trust Lolindir to do what was right in most situations. However he did worry about the severity of Lolindir’s methods sometimes. Lolindir nodded affirmatively in response to Voronwe’s suggestion.

Mablung gave a dark smirk, “Congratulation High Councilman Lolindir. How fortunate for you in this time of tragedy.”

Lolindir simply replied, “How tasteless.” Before leaving the room with alatriel.

Luthor Huss

Luthor sat tucked away hidden in a back alley. He was still trying to take in all that had happened. He had almost forgotten that he needed to get out of the Fae territory fore the Lanturnes were doing a thorough sweep of the entire city area. He had to get out of there else he could be arrested and then discovered at the true assassin. “Damn, how do I get out of here so without getting caught? I already used up the little gift that Unicorn Keeper gave me. I owe him big
” Huss said to himself.

Just then a group of lanterns charged past the alleyway down the street in search of anyone as a suspect. Luthor ducked back against a wall and covered in shadow. Luckily he wasn’t seen but it wouldn’t be too long before the lanterns combed through the alleyways as well. Luthor then noticed the cobblestone a few paces away rumble slightly. Then a solid block of the stones moves up and over to reveal an opening in the ground. Huss grabbed his cat splitter ready for action but he noticed a young man appeared from the opening.

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Huss gave a curious look and asked “Who the heck are you and where did you come from?”

The young man smiled brightly and waved at Luthor. “Ah! There you are Mr Huss! I’ve been looking all over for you! I’m Theodore Pohl. But you can call me Tepo if you like.” He bowed formally to Huss. “I’m a mortalis scout. Kile “Kneecaps” Turner sent me to find you and smuggle you back to safety. We’ll use the underground caverns to go back. We gotta hurry now or we’ll get caught.” Tepo said in a chipper tone. With that, he quickly hopped back down into the tunnel.

Huss was slightly puzzled. “Wow
 Kile is amazing for being able to track me down to help get my sorry ass out of hot water. But I can’t believe this kid found me. Well no time to ponder about it.” Huss thought to himself. He followed Tepo down and sealed the entrance behind him.