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Eulogy for the Immortal

Ter'Ciel

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a part of Eulogy for the Immortal, by ~Evil Cream Puff~.

How long will the people of Ter'Ciel truly know peace?

~Evil Cream Puff~ holds sovereignty over Ter'Ciel, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

1,128 readers have been here.

Setting

Beloved creation of the gods.
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Ter'Ciel

How long will the people of Ter'Ciel truly know peace?

Minimap

Ter'Ciel is a part of Eulogy for the Immortal.

3 Places in Ter'Ciel:

11 Characters Here

Celsia Vorrine [26] "I feel like i've seen this somewhere before..."
Caedes Risus [23] Thank the Gods? I got nothing against the Gods, but I'm right here if you want someone to thank.
Devlin Íobairt [17] "If the gods really did exist, I'd love to meet one."
Laelynn Wyght [15] "I must keep my distance to protect them..."
Kai Seward [13] "Lay a finger on them, and I'll be sure you lose your entire hand."
Maren LeChance [12] "Y'gotta create your own happiness!"
Hans Amsel [12] "Pity you don't know true love the way I do."
Rais Crevan [11] "There's a time and a place for everything. Let's make the place here and the time now."
Genevieve Oullet [9] "That's going to cost you a pretty penny."
Mackenzie Truko [7] "Sure I can fix it, but what the #%*& did you do..?"

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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Prologue


Stars shone brightly in the clear black night casting a soft glow upon the world below. The royal palace of Airyglyph was lit up with its own lights, needing no aid from the natural brilliance that was this beautiful night sky. An orchestra played from within the castle, only a small din could be heard from the balcony where she stood, but to her ears it was soothing and beautiful. The balcony was overlooking the impressively vast courtyard, a large fountain stationed in the center of it, its water reflecting the silver light of the moon, giving the effect of silver pouring from the top of the fountain into a pool of tranquility. Flowers of every kind were strewn about the area, filling the air with a mildly sweet aroma pleasing to her. It was preferred over the smell of smoke that escaped the large glass door left ajar behind her leading back into the ballroom. So while she could, she breathed deeply, allowing her lungs to fill with the brisk night air and the flowers beneath her.

As beautiful as the scenery was, the flowers looked withered and the moon was rusted in compared to the delicate woman that stood placidly on the balcony of the royal palace of Airyglyph. Her skin was as light and smooth as porcelain, her hair darker than a starless sky, her lips a full red, and her eyes a vibrant emerald. Her hair cascaded behind her in locks of darkness, silky and shiny against her back. Her dress was the color of a raven. It clung tightly to her bosom with no straps to mar her shoulders and flowed to the ground, spilling out to trail behind her. In this moment, she was gathering herself. Allowing herself to enjoy the simplicity of nature, before she would have to return to the party within. But Genevieve wished of a time where she would have been able to stand outside forever, and forget the harsh reality she lived in now.

In truth, this was a tragically boring affair for her, and worse yet, it made her miserable to partake in these political events. But to everyone observing her, she would appear the as the most rapt political socialite there ever was. Maybe it is actually scarier to her to think that being one of these people was actually her true nature coming to the surface, because she was so good at it. Lying, deceiving, grifting, and faking had become all too easy for her. It had only been three months since she was really thrust into the inner circle of the politically powerful and blood thirsty socialites. But she adapted quickly, and soon she was loved, or detested, by everyone.

Soft footsteps could be heard behind her and they grew louder, but she did not turn to face who was coming. She already knew the answer to that anyway. The pretentious click of her overly high heels were recognizable in a dead sleep. “Why Genevieve there you are. We were about to send a search party looking for our little life of the party.” The sickeningly sweet voice of Lydia Renese was like nails on a chalkboard to Genevieve. But she simply rolled her eyes and turned around with a smile.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Lydia. I just had to get some fresh air and see the courtyard, it is such a beautiful night tonight I didn’t want to waste it,” she responded just as sweetly as Lydia. Lydia’s smile was like watching a hyena laugh hysterically before clamping its jaws around your throat. Lydia was the queen bee of the socialites. She wasn’t the actual queen. The royal family is purely figureheads. The real power was held by the city’s High Council: nine individuals who convened to decide the fate of Tar’Cien. Four of them were elected officials from the people of Airyglyph that serve the council until they step down from their post, are relieved by the king, or die. Three of them are magistrates, determined by the bloodline of the three other founding families of the original city-state of Airyglyph: the Renese, the Graysons, and the Tamlocks. The last two were appointed by the king, the captain of the Royal Guard, and the court magician and tactical advisor to the king. Both of these positions are really handpicked by the three magistrates of the council, so that when votes were needed, they knew they had the other two votes in their pocket.

Lydia Renese was the forty-something, overly-controlling wife of Magistrate Collin Renese, and the real voice of her husband on the council. Nothing happened in this city without her knowing about it, and you did not want to make an enemy of her. Genevieve was sure that Lydia hated her very existence let alone her presence at these monthly galas.

“Oh dear, it is beautiful outside. But let’s get you back to the party, we wouldn’t want you catching a cold with how exposed your upper body is.” Her words were icier than any chill the night air could bring.

Genevieve took a few steps forward, “Don’t worry so much about my health Lydia. You’re looking a little worse for wear lately, breathe deep, the fresh air could do you some good.” Before Genevieve could leave the balcony Lydia took a step in front of her.

“Don’t think just because you’re the new flavor of the month that you can do whatever you want. We still have rules here. And if you don’t deliver on your promise by the end of this month, well, I don’t have to remind you of the consequences.” .

“Of course Lydia. Now if you’ll excuse me, your husband is waiting for me.” And with that Genevieve walked off and cursed her luck for finding herself within the heart of the beast. But, it was she who had made a deal with the devil.

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

The lower quarter was mostly quiet by this time of night. It was almost midnight and people had cleared the streets, and only the homeless or the crooked still wandered the streets. Genevieve had closed up shop about three hours ago and was muddling some herbs together for a woman to pick up tomorrow. It was a long and hot day. Things had been extremely slow for Genevieve the past couple of months, and she had to start peddling some herbs and other trinkets with the rest of the market stands to reach ends meet.

The shop door had three loud knocks against it, and Genevieve simply called over her shoulder, “We’re closed. Come back tomorrow,” in a tired voice. The small wooden door weathered a few more bangs until finally in came directly off of the hinges and two men in large black cloaks entered the small cramped room. “Phasmatos entreebum enracktan vinsindee.” The candles that lit around the room incensed until the flames licked the walls and then suddenly vanished. A line of salt mixed with sage that encased the foyer crackled to life, and the sage burned up, releasing small wisps of black smoke. Geneveive had set this up for just such an occasion. The two men fell to their knees, grasping at their throats, as if they were choking on the very air at which they breathed. Genevieve had cast a spell that vacuumed out the oxygen in the front of the room. Anyone caught within the doorway and the front table had nothing to breathe but dead space.

“That’s enough. Is that any way to greet your guests?” That was the first time she had ever laid eyes on Lydia, and she was instantly repulsed by her sickly sweet smile. “If you’d be so kind as to release you hold on these men. I assure you they’re only here as a precautionary measure.”

“Then you would understand that it is only precautionary that intruders in my home are not allowed to simply do as they please. Moit.” And with a cool rush of wind, air returned. But the men were long unconscious from their ordeal. Now it was only Genevieve and Lydia that stood in the dark night. “Well, aren’t you going to tell me what the esteemed Lydia Renese is doing in the lower quarter, near midnight, at a local witch shop? Or are you just here for idle conversation?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “I wouldn’t be caught in these deplorable shops unless I had urgent business with the proprietor. That would be you, my dear Genevieve. The high council has need of your assistance.”

“They must be sorely desperate for my specific aid to send the wife of one of its members at such a dangerous hour. And so, underprotected,” she taunted, glancing at the crumpled bodies on the floor. “I also doubt that the high council would send you at all. They like to make things all showy with public envoys and official correspondence. So let’s not waste each other’s time at this late hour.”

“Very well. I am not here in official capacity. A select group of council members wish for a group of people from around Tar’Cien to be summoned to the capital building for…questioning. Unfortunately, we do not have enough people in favor of this decision to even bring it before the council, let alone ask the court magician Vincent to perform the task. But this matter is of grave importance to all of Tar’Cien, and we cannot afford to bring this up before the council and deliberate for what could be years. So instead, we need a witch with a reputation to complete the summoning spell for us. Which is where you come in. If you complete this for us, you will be handsomely compensated for your efforts. If you refuse…well, it would be quite a shame, for everyone involved.”

Genevieve regarded her with a serious look, never taking her eyes of Lydia as she unraveled her plot in front of her. With careful deliberation on how best to proceed, she spoke, “A summoning spell? Witchcraft doesn’t exactly work like that. We have no way of teleporting people remotely. It’s more sort of a suggestive migration spell. I send them something that points to a location and they get subliminal messages to make the journey. And I would need their name, a strand of hair, or something personal of theirs to send them so it will get to the right person.”

Lydia had moved into the small shack now, stepping over the men on the ground. She reached into a small purse she carried and pulled out a small pinion and placed it on the table. “Will this do? It is an heirloom that they all would recognize.” It was a small round bronze pinion, rusted in the corners but otherwise intact. It looked ancient, and it had a single symbol on the front. It was an old symbol that used to be worn by priests of Temples to the Gods. This particular one was from a small village on the outskirts of Airyglyph called Kirlsa, denoted by the background crimson color of the pinion. Each region had their own color to the pinions to differentiate where people hailed from. They had not been used in hundreds of years.

“If you think it will reach them I can try. But, we’ll have some terms to this agreement. I want two million zen. One million up front and another after they show up in Kirlsa. And I want you to induct me into your social circle.”

“Absolutely not. What need could you possibly have with the nobility of this city?”

“That’s my business. But those are my terms. Refuse, and I’ll make sure that the high council hears about how the esteemed wife of a magistrate came to me in the dead of night and asked me to perform a summoning of a group of individuals, and hid it from the rest of the council. And if this pinion happens to fall into their hands as proof, then so much the better.”


Lydia looked as if she was about to either pounce on Genevieve with a feral scream or faint from her sheer audacity. “Very well then. You will have your money and your money and your social status. But I promise you, if they are not here by the next solstice, about four months from now, you won’t be able to practice magic out of a cardboard box let alone this run down little shop. Do we have an understanding?”

“Of course we do. Now, have the money here tomorrow night and I will perform the spell.”

“Until then.”
Lydia exited the shop with haste.

“You forgot your garbage,” Genevieve called after her. Genevieve walked over, kicking the bodies of the men to rouse them as she did, and they left with just as much urgency.

The next night when Lydia came knocking the door was already open, and candles were strewn about the room, Genevieve kneeling in the middle of the room. On the table was one large candle, the pinion, and a knife. Genevieve picked up the knife and ran the length of it across her palm, making a shallow wound. She then picked up the pinion in her now bloody hand and held it above the fire, clenching her fist tightly. “Phesmastos vanex, ondi mox, fero audeo!” As a single drop of blood trickled into the flame, it roared to life, wind howled and swirled about the room, and her hand was completely encased in bright oranges and reds. It held for a few moments before as suddenly as it started, it stopped. And the world returned to normal. But the pinion was gone, the wound she gave herself was clear of blood and now a small scar on her palm, and her hand held no signs of being inside an inferno a moment before.

“It is done. Leave the money by the door. And see you tomorrow for tea, Lydia.”

Setting

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt
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Dusk had settled across Kirlsa, staining the houses and fields with stripes of fiery orange light. Casting a glow about the motionless windmill that stood tall against the shanty backdrop, it created a sense of stillness. Of simplicity. And underneath these calm overtones, unease. To those perceptive enough, those particularly attuned with nature, the air above Kirlsa was electric. A gentle, western breeze picked up, catching the rusty blades of the old windmill. A shuddering creak broke the silence above the town as the blades turned lazily. And in some unreachable place beyond this mortal realm, the wheel of fate began to turn as well.

Devlin Íobairt


Tick...Tick...Tick...

The large clock in the corner ticked away the last fleeting moments of daylight. Standing tall in a case of solid mahogany wood, the front of the lavish contraption was open, revealing a shining array of metallic cogwheels. Gold, bronze, and copper pieces worked in perfect harmony all to keep track of time. To keep track of Devlin's increasing sense of dread. Staring into its blank, numbered face, the boy sighed.

After a moment, he resumed mending the worn fabric in his lap. His hands deftly worked the needle in and out of Lord Grayson's coat, the tear in the lining growing smaller with each stitch. This work should have made him happy. It wasn't particularly fulfilling, no. But he enjoyed sewing and mending things. Devlin had learned long ago to take his pleasures where he could find them, and domestic chores nearly topped the list. It was relaxing. Tonight, however, the boy couldn't seem to catch a break. No matter how he tried to busy himself, his mind wandered. Something was not right.

Standing up, he carefully laid the coat on the quilted bedspread. The room was small. Shabby furnishings were painted and decorated to give the illusion of finery. It was nothing compared to the luxury back at home in Airyglyph. Back in Lord Grayson's manor, even Devlin, a mere servant, enjoyed more comfort than anything Kirlsa could provide.

They had arrived in town two days prior. Lord Grayson, three of his personal bodyguards, and Devlin. He was called upon to act as the Lord's servant for the trip. It was a shocking announcement, especially for Devlin himself, as he had never been one of Lord Grayson's favorites. The other maids and housekeepers stared at him in disgust and whispered unheard (but undoubtedly unkind) words behind his back. The boy couldn't easily forget his years of tiptoeing around his master. Of the overwhelming responsibilities he placed upon his shoulders. Of the painful repercussions of his failures. So when he was permitted to ride alongside Lord Grayson in the very same carriage, he knew that something was on the horizon. Something bad. They sat in silence and Devlin could swear that it felt like he'd held his breath for the entirety of the trip. And now, here they were, staying in the mayor's house in the nondescript town of Kirlsa. The boy was given his own room and Lord Grayson had given him but one command... To not leave until he was permitted to.

Devlin made his way over to the single window in the room. He pulled back the drab curtains and pushed open the glass. The cool evening air hit his senses immediately and he was reminded of just how long he'd spent sitting inside the room. His second story view overlooked most of the small town. The only structure that stood taller than the mayor's residence was the windmill in the center square. Devlin's eyes focused on the slowly spinning blades although he didn't actually see them. His mind was too full of unanswered questions and the unshakable feeling of dread.

Just what was going on? Why had he been chosen to accompany Lord Grayson to Kirlsa? And why Kirlsa of all places? It all seemed so specific and yet so vague at the same time. Devlin couldn't see the ocean from his window, but he could hear the sounds of the crashing waves for the first time in his life. Sending a silent prayer to some unknown god, the boy asked for an answer. But the heavens above Ter'Ciel had been empty for far too long for any deity to hear him.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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#, as written by Celsium
The room was dark, and smelled of must and moss. A faint, glowing light from a dying candle flickered several feet away. The muffled noise of turning gears came from above.

Where am I?


A cave, perhaps? No- the walls were mostly dirt, like someone carved into the ground. As she began to walk towards the candle, Celsia felt goosebumps up her neck, as if someone was approaching her from behind. She turned around and--



With a gasp, Celsia's eyes shot open. She could feel a bead of cold sweat run down her face. The ceiling was wooden, no more dirt. "Another weird dream," She mumbled to herself. As she sat up, a spell of dizziness overcame her. Was she getting ill again? Well, it didn't matter now-- she had already left Gola, so her parents could not hide her away this time. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and oriented herself. The room was cozy- just a small boarding room in a ship, with a worn window facing out of the back of the boat. With a calm morning surf, the swaying of the ship was minimized. It almost felt as if she was back on land.

Celsia padded across the wooden planks and out to the deck. The sun had just risen over the horizon, revealing the massive sea before them. The cool morning sea breeze chilled her, but it was refreshing, especially after being cooped up in the room.

"Good morning, Celsia!" Hollered a voice from above. She turned her head to meet it, and smiled, nodding at the crow's nest. "Good morning, Gar. Don't you ever come down from up there?"
"I just took over. And hell, I don't mind-" He turned and pointed to the west, "I can see Tithe Harbor just over the horizon. We'll be there before I can get worn out." Celsia dashed over to the side of the ship and narrowed her eyes. There was the outline of a mass of land. Her face beamed with a great smile- the mainland stood right before her.

---------------


The ship had moored in the harbor, and the few crewmembers had disembarked for supplies- Due to shallow rocky waters along the coastline of Gola, only smaller ships could travel there- which meant for less storage. Celsia stood on the dock and looked at the town with wonder in her eyes.

It wasn't a city by any means, but it was much busier than the island. The market by the harbor was setting up for the morning rush, and she could see steam-powered machinery in many of the buildings. She walked by the merchants and tents, eyeing many fruits and vegetables she had only read about previously. Shiny, copper and bronze machine parts were laid out on blankets over the cobblestone sidewalks. Colorful silken fabrics hung from strings alongside the tents. If Tithe could be this amazing, surely she would find even more intrigues at Kirlsa. From the corner of her eye she spotted the ship captain, Gar, and she rushed to catch up to him.

"Have you regained your land legs already?" He offered her a wry smile, "I was surprised you adjusted so quickly, seeing how pale you looked this morning."

" Oh, I'm sure it was just the morning light playing tricks on your eyes. Tell me- When do we depart again to Kirlsa?" Her smile faded when he gave her a disappointed look. "Celsia- I'm sorry. But my ship can't make that journey."

" Why not?" She felt a pit in her stomach. She had only made it part way to her destination and already she was stuck. Gar shook his head, and nodded up to the grey sky. " Our ship is a bit damaged from the rocky, shallow Golan waters. We can't traverse the seas in it, we'd capsize or sink- especially with this rain coming. And you know boats take some time to repair... You'll have to find your travels in another ship."

Celsia furrowed her brow. She felt a few drops of rain begin to fall on her shoulders. "Do you know of anyone that would take me? You know me, Gar, I can't just stop here."

The broad-shouldered man crossed his arms, and eyed the harbor, fixating on a nondescript ship off to the side. "..Now, I could be wrong about this, but.... I believe if I'm right.. talk to the captain of that ship. We've crossed paths while mooring before. I have a feeling he might be able to get you to where you want to go. He has a pretty noticeable... facial feature. You can't miss it." Celsia's eyes lit up again, despite the rain that was coming down steady. She gave the man a hug, looking almost comically small against his huge expanse of a chest. He patted her head.

"Gar...Please tell my parents I'm alright. I am, really. And I will continue to be, I promise." With a last bittersweet smile, she sprinted down the rainy path towards the ship that would hopefully complete her journey to Kirlsa.

----

Celsia walked down the dock towards the small boat Gar had mentioned. Surprisingly, it looked capable of carrying only a few people. The rain began to come down harder, and she was nearly soaked through. She stepped up to the boat and poked her head around before noticing a white-haired male laying on the side of the deck, unphased by the downpour. "Excuse me, um," She wasn't sure if he could hear her. "My friend Gar said you might be able to transport me. I don't really have any money, but uh.." She realized how ridiculous she must've sounded, asking for travel without cash. "If you're heading to a small port called Kirlsa, or nearby it, I would be really grateful.." The man's ears seemed to perk up, and he stood. As he faced to her, she saw the large scar across his defined face.

She felt the color drain from her face. She had seen him somewhere before, but that was impossible. He had never visited the island. Why did she suddenly feel so overwhelmed? The man opened his mouth and said something to her, but she didn't hear it. The images of his face flashed in her mind again, and everything went dark.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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Maren LeChance



The dirty, paved streets of Davonshire had soon given way to endless hills of green foliage. The sky overhead, usually dismal and gray due to the industrial city's factories, was now a kaleidoscope of warm pastels. The sun set over Kirlsa in much the same way it set over his dusty hometown of Serf. Too much time in the big city was enough to renew one's awe of nature's simple beauty.

Maren would have considered it peaceful. Nostalgic, even...if he wasn't so goddamn bored.

The young man's journey from Davonshire seemed to be a distant memory from his past. In truth, Maren had only been in the town of Kirlsa for one week. The excitement of adventure, the adrenaline rush of freedom he'd felt when leaving Davonshire...all of it now seemed so damn stupid. This wasn't an adventure at all. It was a punishment for a crime he'd never committed. And the only adrenaline rush came from whether or not he'd make it to the local inn's shower stalls before the water ran cold.

Move to Kirlsa! Where the sea awaits! Where the women are gorgeous! Where the wine runs like...well...wine.

'Hmph. The hell was I thinking, moving to some backwater like this?'

Indeed, the thrill of traveling seemed to leave him not moments after entering this simple little town. The initial disappointment would have been enough to cause Maren to turn and leave right then...if it weren't for one tiny little problem.

He was broke.

Maren had never been very good with his money. His life in Davonshire had been from paycheck to paycheck. Bread on Monday, watery porridge by Thursday, and then a weekend of roast pig, pumpkin pie, more wine than he could handle, and even a pretty girl by his side...before counting his remaining copper pieces in disbelief and begrudgingly taking half a loaf of bread to work with him the following Monday. It was a delicate system that had taken months to balance. But now? This damned trip to Kirlsa had taken nearly every coin in his meager savings. He couldn't afford to move back to the city so soon.

And so he'd stayed.

Maren spent his first night in a barn, unbeknownst to the property owners. The next day he was all over town, working odd jobs and helping out the townspeople with manual labor in exchange for paltry sums. Caring for horses, moving bales of hay, building sheds and chicken coops, even repairing the blades of the old windmill in the center of town. Maren worked hard every day and tried his best to save every coin. He'd taken up a room in the shabby inn. It wasn't too different from his own apartment in Davonshire. Small. Sparsely decorated. Efficient. Maren didn't need much to be happy. His pleasures in life came not from material possession. Unless you count a roasted leg of lamb as a material possession.

Today he had just finished up a few more repairs on the old windmill. The mayor of Kirlsa, taking advantage of the strapping, young drifter in town, had asked him to fix it up personally.

The sun began to set, bathing everything around in golden crimson that signaled the end of another day's work. Climbing down off of a ladder, Maren leaned up against the side of the windmill. The cool stone foundation felt good on his back. Stretching a bit, he watched as the townsfolk began their evening ritual of packing up and heading home to dinner.

'Oh, man...looks like potato broth again for me tonight.'

Maren would wait near the windmill until the inn was about to close. Once the usual patrons had finished up their meals, he would go in and hit up the cute girl that worked the counter. Well...she wasn't exactly cute. But she did have a certain country charm about her. The type to easily get taken in by a hotshot young man who rolled into town...at least that's what he thought, anyway. Maybe she would give him some of the night's leftovers so he wouldn't have to eat that tasteless, poor man's excuse for soup again.

And so Maren sat. Waiting for nightfall. Arms behind his head, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Yeah. Tonight he had a good feeling that he just couldn't deny, and that could only mean one thing...a delicious meal was in his future.

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus
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FIVE DAYS PRIOR

The sun was shinning, the water was calm and clear, and the faint sound of gulls off in the distance could be heard. "Finally... Tithe harbor.." The white haired male said with a grin on his face. He had seen the town for a while now, but he could finally start to make out the different houses and buildings, and the gulls meant he was close. Just a few more hours and he could rest up, get some needed supplies... and probably drink himself to sleep. The male rummaged through his shirt, finding the bronze coin and pulling it out, only to flip it into the air. "Let's see what luck comes my way today.... heads again~" He laughed out before putting the coin back into it's pocket. "Lady luck sure has been kind to me lately... I hope the hunt is good tonight~"

Finally he reached the harbor at midday. As he was tying the stiff rope around the dock, the familiar hustle of footsteps rapidly approached. "Excuse me, you need to-" The man was cut off as Caedes threw him a small pouch of coins. "Yea yeah, I'll be out of here sometime tomorrow. That will cover it, right?" The harbor keep grew a bit red in the face as jingled the pouch. He quickly turned on his heels and took off, scribbling in his ledger. 'Tch... hope he doesnt realize I stiffed him a bit.' He climbed up the musty wharf, his silver fanged smile plastered on his face, heading in the opposite direction from the Keep, only bringing a small pouch with him as he head into town.

The tall man made his way around town, making several trips back and forth to his boat, gathering the supplies he needed for another few days out at sea, occasionally helping himself to the local goods in the commotion of the market place. How he loved the busy time of day, though it almost made his hunt too easy. But food is food, and he wasn't to start caring now.

---

A few more hours passed, Cae talked to a few fishermen, and dock workers, trading tales, although, Cae failed to mention a few of them that might still get him in trouble though. He told them of his play to go to Kirsla, in which he received a few laughs, the fishermen knowing that there wasnt too much adventuring to be had there. Not long after the exchange, Cae waved them off, making his way to the local bar to try to find himself some more lively company, and this bar seemed to be the place. It was noisy, and full of cheer from what he could tell from outside.

----

FOUR DAYS PRIOR

The next thing Cae knew he was getting rained on lightly, his head was pounding, and someone was talking to him. They had a sweet voice, which eased his throbbing head, but he couldnt make out what she said. "... heading to a small port called Kirlsa, or nearby it, I would be really grateful.." His ear twitched a bit as he moved to face her, the words of his destination catching his attention. He was about to question the girl when he saw her start to faint. "Hey... HEY!" Was all the man could yell as he rushed forward to catch the small girl from falling into the water.

The adrenaline rush clearing his head as he picked up the unconscious girl, carrying her into his small cabin aboard the boat and setting her down in the bed, checking her forehead for fever. She seemed fine, and was lucky to have fallen around him, and not some of the other dock workers... but who was this girl, and why was she coming to him in the middle of a storm? "What are you asking about Kirsla for...?" He pondered out loud. He shrugged it off and pulled out the bronze coin, flipping it up onto the table, landing tails side up. "Well... looks like things are going to be getting interesting.." He muttered as he tucked the girl in, not wanting her small frame to catch a cold.

The man peeked out the window of the cabin and locked up the door and window, the storm was growing in size, but it would pass soon enough. Sitting back into a chair, he kicked his feet up and put his hands behind his head, tilting the chair a tad as he watched over the girl, starting to doze off again as he waited for her to awaken

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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#, as written by Celsium
The tunnel was dark, save for the dim flickering light. The rhythmic turning of gears above sounded familiar.

Where am I?

The shadow of a figure approached from around the corner. Celsia held her breath. The figure, cloaked in crimson slowly made its way to the candle, picking it up. It turned to face her. Though it's face was hidden beneath the hood, she could feel it watching her. It lifted up the candle to its concealed face, and blew out the flame.




Celsia slowly opened her eyes. The ceiling was wood, not dirt. Was she still on Gar's ship? No, she remembered departing with him.
The white-haired man dozing in his chair by the head of the bed caught the corner of her eye, and her heart jumped. She quickly patted herself down- still clothed, phew- though her damp shawl and satchel were hung on the bed post. Cautiously she slowly sat up, keeping her eyes fixated on him. Recalling her brief meeting with him, she shook her head, embarrassed. Waiting for the pounding in her head to subside, she looked around the room. It wasn't very large, but neither was the boat- just big enough for the bed, a chair, and small desk with some storage.
Caedes heard the familiar creak of his bed. Ah..she must be up. He thought to himself as he shifted a bit. Celsia began to open her mouth to say something to him, but noticed a bronze token on the table. Her face grew red.

"Did you go through my things?! What are you doing with my coin?" She snatched it up and held it in her lap. "And what am I doing in here...?"

Caedes was surprised to wake, only to be yelled at about him having gone through her stuff, his eyes opening to see her snatching his coin. "HEY!" Cae yelled back, grabbing at her wrist firmly, "I dont know what you meant by going 'through your stuff', but if you don't let go of that coin, I'll throw you overboard. That coin is very precious to me." He scolded her firmly, not taking his red eyes off her own.

Using his other hand, he took hold of the coin and forced it from her hand, then let go of her small wrist. "I haven't touched any of your stuff, check your bag for yourself." The man said with a disgruntled look upon his face. He may have been a pirate once, but he wouldn't steal from someone who was unconscious. Especially a cute girl. Sitting back in his chair, he waited for her to check her things.


Taken slightly aback from his strength, and his piercing red eyes, Celsia rubbed her wrist. She reached over and grabbed her satchel, rummaging through the few contents. Sure enough, her coin was there. She held it in her hand, looking at the identical one in his.
"Why did you mention Kirsla?" He asked, raising a brow.

Why did I mention Kirlsa...?Well I can't really mention the weird dreams, he'll think i'm insane.
"Uh.. well, I just.." She felt herself at a loss for words. "I read about Kirlsa in a book and it interested me. And then I found this coin and just.." She turned the coin over in her hand. "I dunno, thought it was a sign? I had never left my island before. And I've never seen or read of a coin like this, either."

She stood up. "Sorry, I knew it was pretty farfetched. I should probably take my leave. I don't have much to offer you as payment for looking out for me.." She looked at the coin in her palm again. Well, if she couldn't take his boat to Kirlsa she may as well move on. Offering the coin to him, she looked into his intense red eyes. "Take this. If your coin is precious to you, maybe having two of them will bring you some luck. Oh- I'm sorry- My name is Celsia. I guess I should've mentioned that earlier."

His eyes widened at the sight of her coin, his observant eyes inspecting it carefully. Sure enough, the two were a perfect match. "Well, I'll be..." was all he could manage to say before finally taking his eyes off the coin, and back to the blonde in front of him. Sighing, he shook his head lightly. "Sit down. I plan on leaving first thing in the morning, the storm should blow over by then. You are free to come with me if you wish it. It wouldn't sit right telling a frail girl to shove off like that.." He reached to push the coin back into her hand.

"It just so happens I've been planning to head to Kirsla myself. Celsia... Well met. The name's Caedes. Feel free to call me Cae though." He smiled up at her warmly as he held out his rough hand to shake.

-----------

The two of them stood on the deck, their journey to Kirlsa now underway. The storm had passed, and the dark clouds retreated over the horizon. With the sail full of wind, all they could do was wait until they arrived at their destination.

Celsia turned her head towards Caedes, who seemed to be enjoying the sunlight. "So Caedes, why is it you're going to Kirlsa?"
"I'm a pir... I like to travel..." His eyes shifted a bit, catching himself before revealing his past to her. "I've yet to get down that far, so I had the urge... plus I have my boat." He shrugged lightly, his gaze returning to the female's eyes before him. "So, I figured I might as well take the trip."

"Oh wow, you're so lucky. If I had a boat and could go wherever I wanted I think I would have explored the entirety of Ter'Ciel by now." Her hair blew wildly in the seabreeze and she smiled. "How did you even come across a boat? Aren't they pretty expensive?"

"You uh... you pick up a thing or two while you travel around." He leaned himself against the cabin as he looked forward. "I've been out at sea for... Shit, it might be 10 years now. Besides, this boat is hardly worth much. Just a dingy compared to what I used to have." He smiled as he leaned his head back, remembering the old days. "Why haven't you been out and about traveling, anyhow?"
"Oh, uh.." She averted her gaze. "My parents were kind of...protective, I guess. Plus a lot of ships don't go to Gola so there aren't a lot of opportunities to just up and leave. This was my first time on the mainland." Her eyes were fixated on the sea. "Honestly, it's relieving to see new sights. I was starting to get a little stir crazy."

Caedes shook his head lightly, "Well.. they were probably protecting you from yourself, with that sickly body of yours. You sure you are okay?" His gaze returned to the girl, worried about her. "And yeah, Gola isn't the best place to visit if you don't have the right ship...I've met some interesting sailors from there."

She sighed. "I'm fine. Sometimes I just get ill when..." She stopped herself,"Sometimes I just get sick for awhile, but i'm fine. I just forgot to eat, I think." She looked back to meet his gaze. "Caedes.. What are you going to do when you get to Kirlsa? Are you going to take your boat somewhere else after?"

"Alright..." He didn't buy it for a second, but it didn't seem like there was any use in trying to pry it out of her. "I'm probably going to stay there until I figure out just why I want to bother coming down here." He shrugged, not really knowing himself. "All I know is that I wanna go down there.. but I can't really think of why."

"I guess you and I are in the same boat then, heh. I don't really know why I'm going there either. You'd think I would be more interested in a big city. So many books to read..." Her voice trailed off. She gave him a serious look. "I might sound crazy, but I just feel like I have to be there." Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned against the side of the boat.

"I should throw you overboard for that joke." He sighed, a grin forcing it's way onto his face at her silly words. "Well... considering you've never been anywhere but Gola, yeah, I figure you would rather visit anywhere but a backwater area." The smile vanished as he gave another simple shrug. "Maybe it's the hunt calling to us." The man said with a grin, pulling out his coin, flipping it into the air and catching it. "Heads or tails?"

She raised her brows. "Hm... Tails."

Unbeknownst to her, the pirate made sure to land it on heads as he opened his hand, "Ah, what a shame, looks like luck is on my side." He grinned as he looked up to the girl, "Ah well, can't win em all."

Celsia gave him a smile and chuckled to herself. "You know, for some reason you remind me of a song I learned from a foreign sailor that moored on Gola a few years ago. It's about a sailor or a pirate that retired but longs for the sea again." She leaned over the edge of the boat and started to quietly sing it to herself in the foreign tongue.
"Ein Sturm zieht auf,
Ich steh an Deck.
Die Seeluft schmeckt
Nach Regen.
Der Himmel streckt
Die Hände aus,
Ich stemm' mich ihm
Entgegen. "


He listened to the girl sing in her foreign tongue, not able to understand, but still enjoying her voice. "That sounds nice.. but sorry, can't understand what it's saying." He smirked as he continued to rest against the cabin. She continued to stare into the waves, and gave a half smile.

"Wieder nach der See..."

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Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko
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  1. possible wrong location

    by aerineth

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The journey to Kirlsa had been an uneventful one, but Mack was more than ready to be done with it. When she discovered the last leg of her journey would be by horse drawn coach, she had almost turned back. It was hard to imagine a city worth visiting without at least one motorized transport. Even so, it seemed a pity to travel so far for nothing. Soon she found herself jostled against local passengers on their way back to home at an excruciatingly slow pace. She passed the time flipping the bronze token over her knuckles and pondering the logistics of getting parts into Kirlsa to build a car.

She was relieved to climb out of the coach and after a brief bustle to sort bags and parcels, Mack found herself alone in the square. Looking around, the largest structures seemed to be a groaning ancient windmill and a somewhat ostentatious house. No real industry to speak of, though that should have been no surprise. She wondered again why she had come. Finding at least one familiar structure in town, she directed her stride toward the local tavern and inn.

She claimed a seat at the bar, dropping her duffel with a thud and a clank, then ordered a hot meal and a pint from the charming country girl who was tending. She put down coin for her meal and more for a room, then turned to take in the locals. The crowd seemed typical of a small town by the sea. There were fishers and farmers and other hardworking folk taking a well-earned break at the end of a hard day. Finishing her meal, she struck up a conversation with a sailor seated near her at the bar.

"Evening, friend. Know anyplace to get work around these parts?"

The man turned to look her over, his gaze and grin typical of a man just returned from the sea. "Why don't ya come sit in my lap, love, and I'll whisper in yer ear."

"Sure thing I would, but then there'd be no place for your mother. Wouldn't be right taking any seats from the elderly," she quipped back.

The sailor didn't seem much amused, especially when his drinking mate guffawed and gave him a thwap on the back, this one a farmer by the looks of it. "Oh come now, ya had that coming. Don't mind my friend here, he'd sure enough grab after anything with legs by now."

Mack chuckled, turning an amicable smile back to the sailor. "No troubles, friend. Here, I'll buy the next round if it'll smooth things over."

The sailor seemed appeased and the farmer approving, so she waved over the keeper and asked for three pints and three shots.

"Tell ya what, gents. I'll pay tab for the night if one of you can drink all three shots before I can drink all three pints."

The two looked skeptical, but the farmer took up the offer over the sailor's grumblings of mistrust. "You're on."

Mack gave a challenging grin as she arranged the glasses, three small shots of whiskey before the farmer and three tall pints of the hearty local ale in front of her. "Rules are this - ya have to finish all three to the bottom, and there'll be NO touchin' of the other's glasses. Hands on your own, and that's it. Understood?"

The farmer grinned back, ready to start the challenge as he nodded his agreement.

"GO!"

Mack was chugging back the thick amber liquid as fast as she could go while the farmer easily knocked back the first shot. In a tavern like this, there'd be no top shelf booze so it didn't go smooth, but he was used to the local rotgut and Mack was only halfway through her first glass. The farmer took a deep breath, picking up the next shot and downing it before laughing at his obvious triumph - the loudmouth mechanic was only just finishing her first pint. Mack was too quick, though. Before the man could grab his last shot, she slammed the pint glass on the bar, upside down over top of the last full shot glass. The farmer smirked and went to move the glass out of the way, but Mack held the glass down firm. "NO touchin' the other's glasses, remember?"

The farmer groaned when he realized the trick and it was the sailor's turn to laugh while he grumbled over the loss. Mack downed the other two pints in decent time, then moved the pint glass aside for the farmer to have the last shot. "That there's a dirty trick," he complained, downing the last shot to ease his injured pride.

"Sure it was, but don't worry. I'm not after the tab. I'm just looking to know if there's any machinework hereabouts. Anything'll do. Gotta fund these tabs somehow, ya know?"

The farmer chuckled, feeling much more amicable after learning that he wasn't about to foot the bill. "Well, there's not a whole lot of that sort of thing around here. It's not often the steamships come out this way and there ain't much in town. Odd job or two maybe, but there's some ginger fella been snappin' all that work up the last week or so."

Mackenzie swore. "That about figures." Her coin purse wasn't overly light, so she could afford to stay a while. Still it looked better and better to cut her losses and go back. But for right now, she was already paid for the night. "Thanks, lads." There might be something more to be found come tomorrow, so tonight she was happy to enjoy drinks with the locals 'till the inn closed shop.

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Celsia stepped out of the cabin the precise moment that Caedes fastened it to the dock post. After her hiccup in Tithe she was all too ready to settle into a cozy village with beautiful green farmlands.

Unfortunately for her, Kirlsa could not offer that. Everything just seemed so...brown. The houses looked worn with age and the only greenery was in small patches in the dirt. A nearly dilapidated windmill spun and groaned in the center of the small town, and the constant rhythmic creaking put Celsia on edge, though she couldn't place why. Even the colors on the townspeople's clothes seemed muted. Everything smelled vaguely of manure.

As she was stricken with a sudden pang of regret and homesickness, Celsia turned to her new friend. "Is this really kirlsa? I thought it would be more... lively."

"From what I've heard... yeah, sadly, this is it. I was really hoping the stories I heard weren't true."
She shook her head, looking around at the small abodes, "Why did I even come here? What do I do now?"

(("Well... for starters")) He pat his stomach with a grin. "We should eat a legitimate meal, and grab ourselves some nice drinks." He looked over the girl for a moment. "Oh, you are probably too young to drink, huh?"

Celsia's stomach growled as he mentioned food. She hadn't realized how bored she grew of eating jerky on the boat. "Food sounds wonderful right now... and wait, how old do you think I am?" She furrowed her brow. "I'm no child. I've been alive on ter'ciel for almost 20 years now, you know..."

A look of shock took hold of Cae's face. "20? Here I pegged you for... I don't know... 15?" He looked her up and down again. "I guess I could see it... Man, if I had known that..." He trailed off as he climbed up and off the boat, offering a hand down to the lady. "All the missed opportunities for flirting... gone."

Grabbing his hand with a perplexed look, she stepped up onto the dock. "Flirting...?" She caught her eye on a somewhat larger building not too far off to the side of the creaky windmill. Hanging on the side of the front door was a tattered sign with a mug full of mead on it. "I think that's a pub over there. We should probably ask if there's an inn nearby, too."

"Ya know.. like, flirting.. nevermind." He shook his head dismissively as he looked over to the tavern sign. "It better be, I'm gonna need a drink if I'm staying in this place for awhile." He sighed as he started walking forward, his short sword by his side, just in case. "And what, didn't like sharing a single room with me?"

She eyed the few townspeople that were out and about as they walked on. "It was a bit... cramped...plus, you probably didn't sleep very well on that chair." She raised a brow at him. "I'll get a few drinks into you and you'll forgive me though, I bet."

"At least you had the bed.." He smiled, giving her a soft shove to the shoulder. "And a pretty little thing like you? I've already forgiven you. You gave me company on the trip over, that's fair enough." He said with a warm smile as he opened the door for her to enter the Tavern. The smell of drinks, food, and B.O. filled their nostrils. "Ah... just how I thought it'd be."

Celsia scrunched up her nose, a bit put off by the intense odor of mead and men. She leaned towards him and spoke quietly, "You thought it would be like this and still wanted to come in?" She gave a small smile to the bulky men that were glaring at the duo. "..Maybe we should find a seat somewhere."

"Oh that's right, you've probably never been to a place like this.." He smiled sheepishly at her as he began to walk forward. "Just stay close.. most of these men are farmers and sailors, I doubt there will be any troublemakers among them. And if there are.. " He patted the sword at his side. "Well, just don't be worried. Besides, these lovely scars of mine should ward off any low lifes."

With a bemused look, she lifted up her dress enough to reveal a small concealed dagger on her. "I'm not too worried about it," she said with a wink. She sat down next to a wobbly table by the edge of the room. Suddenly, a wicked grin overcame her. "I bet I could drink these men under the table, anyway."

His eyes blatantly stared at her leg for a moment, taking in the sight of the dagger, as well as her slender form. Reverting his gaze back to her face, he sat down across from her, looking over the men as she talked. "You drink a lot?" He was skeptical, and it clearly showed on his face. "How do you figure that? You said you had strict parents, plus you are tiny, there's no way."

She smiled to herself, realizing that some people found her island as foreign as she found their mainland. "Strict, sure. But I guess it was a cultural thing, we all drank, it was pretty normal. And Golans make some /very/ strong spirits. You learn quickly to keep up, or you end up waking up lost somewhere."

"And I'm an ex pirate, so trust me, I've had stronger." He smirked for a moment, but not long after the smile faded, realizing what he had just said, "Shit." He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, looking over across the old wooden table to see what Cel's reaction was.

Celsia pursed her lips together in a sort of mixed emotion, between surprise and interest. "A..pirate?" She bit her lip in amusement. "In that boat?" After flagging down a tavern worker for some straight rum, she leaned towards Caedes, inspecting him closer. Though her knowledge of pirates led her to believe he could be more dangerous than she originally thought, she was genuinely interested. "A pirate..." She mumbled into her drink.

"Yes, please, say it louder so the rest of the tavern can hear you." He sighed again, glad she wasn't seemingly too upset. "And no, not on that boat. EX pirate. As in, no longer a pirate." He instinctively pulled out the bronze coin and stared at it, his thumb running over the rough surface. "For reasons I'm not about to get into, the crew is gone, the ship is gone... it's all.. gone.." He reached over and grabbed the drink from her, taking a quick chug before handing it back, now half empty. "That was a few years ago... but there are still posters here and there."

As she reached to take another swig, a brief glimpse of a figure in the reflection of the drink startled her. She quickly looked over her shoulder with wide eyes, half expecting someone to be there. But nothing had changed. Slowly turning back to the table, she tensely began to finish off the rum, avoiding eye contact with Caedes.

Cae eyed her suspiciously, his deep red eyes inspecting her and the area behind her. "Cel... What did you see in the reflection?" This wasn't the first time he noticed her start at nothing from any sort of reflective surface. First the ocean, then when inspecting his sword,she could see something that others couldn't, and she was trying to hide it. "If you don't wanna talk about it, I understand, but I'm worried about you. Every time you get like this you look so drained."

She took a moment to try and find a way to explain it without sounding completely insane. "..It's a little difficult to explain. Since I was little I would have very brief and vivid dreams of people or places I'd never met before. Over the past few fortnights it's sort of gotten more common. Remember when we first met in Tithe? I swear by the gods, I had seen your face somewhere before.." she shook her head, "I think I'm just hallucinating or something though, it's probably nothing. Maybe I'm just on edge because I'm so far from home."

Cae looked to her, doing his best to take it all in, resting his head into his hand as he listened. "Perhaps... or maybe you are some sort of a Seer?" As the barmaid passed by again, Cae ordered themselves a few bottles of rum, giving her a friendly wink as he flipped her a coin. "Maybe you're on edge because you are traveling with such a handsome man~" He grinned as he filled up her glass, and one for himself. "Or. Maybe you just need a few drinks in you to take the edge off." He shined his fanged smile as he eyed her, already holding his glass up, as in a toast.

Celsia lightly tapped her mug against his. "A seer.. There aren't any witches on Gola anymore. And definitely not in my family line. I'm sure it's nothing that... talented." She sipped the strong drink. "And most of what I see isn't specific enough to get me anywhere. Still though, maybe I could ask some scholars in Airyglyph about it. I hear they're pretty studious." Hiding a smirk behind her drink, she laughed a little. "Oh, I didn't know I was traveling with a handsome man. Was he hiding somewhere on the boat?"

"True enough... Well, if you need to get there, it'd be a lot better than-" He stopped at her comment, flicking a piece of garbage at her from off the table, hitting her square between the eyes. "And here I am trying to be nice, escorting you around the world to get to... well, we were going to the same place. But still." He chuckled to himself, taking a large drink of his rum before setting it down with a happy sigh. "Why did we even come here..? I thought this coin was pointing me in the right direction."

Picking the trash off her face with a frown, she shrugged at Cae. "I'm wondering that myself. This is definitely a depressing start to my trip." She stretched out and looked around the room. "Even in midday this town seems about as lively as a sack of rocks..." The meats, cheeses, and bread that arrived to the table were a welcome sight. The two of them began to stuff their faces with an intense, hungry fervor. The girl tilted her head towards the window."I think maybe I'll walk around the market a bit, and figure out where it is I want to go next. If you want to join me."

The red-eyed man nodded, "Sounds good to me, there isn't much else to do." He waved over the barmaid once more. "One last round, thanks."
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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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Genevieve was not prepared for the individual that opened the door. She expected Devlin, or the mayor, or Augustine to open the door, but plain as day in front of her, there was this plain little girl standing in the doorway. Genevieve couldn’t but look at her as if she was the cutest puppy she had ever seen, bordering on patronizing. "Good afternoon. How may I assist you?"

“Oh hello, I’m looking for Lord Augusti—“

“Genevieve! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Please come in, come in.” Lord Augustine Grayson pushed past the young girl in the doorway and ushered Genevieve into the small house. For a mayor’s house, there was nothing particularly lavish about it. But it had proper, furnished bed rooms, a dining room and kitchen, which was more than any other home in Kirlsa could boast.

While moving roughly past the dark haired door answerer Genevieve brushed up against her, and immediately her body felt a surge of power course through it. It almost hurt, but Genevieve didn’t let even a wince crack on her smiling face when in the presence of Augustine.

“Augustine I am SO happy to see you. Do you see what that Lydia has reduced me to? Traveling like some mere commoner. The royal car dropped me off so far from the city gates that I tore my dress I was wearing and now I’m resorted to dress like a complete and utter barbarian. Where is that little butler boy of yours? This needs attention straight away.” Genevieve knew exactly how she was going to play this. There was no way that any word of Genevieve’s travel had reached Augustine before she had. Augustine fancied her, and she knew it.

“Oh yes my dear, he’s in the bedroom down the hall, he does rather good work for a servant. But what has brought you he--?”

“Later darling, I simply cannot be seen like this. Is it down here?” Her last question posed to the mayor who may as well have not even been in the room.

“Oh yes my lady, at the end of the hall on your left,” he said as he gestured towards the bedroom.

“Oh thank you, hopefully this won’t take long,” and just like that she left the men and the young girl in the living room while she retreated to the bedroom to see Devlin. The door was locked so Genevieve tapped lightly on the door.

Devlin opened the door, and Genevieve simply pushed past him shouting exclamatorily , “Oh thank GOODNESS, please get to work on this and make it snappy!” She threw the dress at him and shut the door. Genevieve didn’t look to even see if Devlin had started to mend the dress or not, and she didn’t care. Her first task was to make sure there were no eavesdroppers for the next few minutes.

Removing a thicket of sage and ginger root from her bag she put them on the floor in the middle of the room. “Phesmatos incendia.” A small flame flickered to life upon the herbs. “Duade shenari invictus menor.” The flame completely encased the herbs and turned them to ash. Only a small ember was left in the middle of the room. Genevieve removed a candle from her bag and placed the wick over the ember, lighting the candle. With her silencing spell complete no sound could be heard from outside the room as long as the candle continued to burn.

Wasting no time she turned to Devlin, who was obediently sewing the rip in the dress. “Sorry about this Devlin.” Genevieve walked over to Devlin and pushed the needle he was using to mend the dress into his thumb and held it there. She paid no attention to if he screamed or not. “Ce che vous, pro la busque. Ce che vous, pro la busque. Ce che vous, pro la busque. Aducte do mi volum ix ti de.” Magic flowed from Genevieve as she spoke the incantation and the blood flowed back into Devlin’s body, visible on his arm as it traveled through his veins until it reached his brain. The spell Genevieve cast was known as Sight linking. Normally used for family members to see through the eyes of one another, any persons with a spiritual or other type of connection can use it to some degree.

When the spell was completed a few moments later Genevieve let go of him. She panted a little, attempting to regain her composure. “Tell me you see them. Close your eyes and please tell me you can see them!”

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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"Wh-what was that...? What did I see?" Devlin stammered. Obviously, he had no idea what Geneveive had just done to him, and even less about his connection to these people. However, Devlin had said just enough that she now had undeniable proof that her original migration spell had worked. Now she just had to think of a way to round these people up.

Finding out who they are should be easy enough. Now that we know of a few locations and with how small this town is, anyone would be able to tell you who the new faces were. Genevieve just doubted that Augustine brought with him enough royal guards to be able to detain and transport these people. And there was still the matter of the young girl in the foyer, who seems to be one of the targets. Genevieve’s head spun with the complexities and importance of the decisions that she now needed to make. Her life, and the lives of the Feldspar’s, depended on what she did next. And so, she devised her next carefully thought out move…and will now put it into action.

“Devlin, I know that you don’t entirely understand what’s going but you’re going to need to trust me. I’m going to go and cause quite a commotion after I leave this room. Most likely Augustine and everyone else is going to vacate the house. You’ll see what I mean. I need you to gather whatever you can to survive, get that young maid girl and sneak out of town. Run, change your names, start a new life. And take this.” Genevieve removed the pendant from around her neck. It was a very powerful talisman her grandmother had spelled for her when she was born, it carried the crest of the Rain Fallers, the coven that Genevieve’s family hailed from. “If you’re ever in danger or don’t know where to go, clutch this pendant as tight as you can and say the phrase phesmatos duindem. The pendant will show you where to go or protect you. But remember that it’s power is not infinite. It will also show proof of your friendship to the Rain Fallers if you ever make it into witch territory in the wind lands to the south. Stay alive, and stay away from the capital.” And with that, Genevieve left the boy in his room. Probably as confused and alone as he was from before she entered.

As she entered the living room Genevieve calmed herself with a deep breath before her greatest acting to date would take center stage. “Augustine!” Genevieve shrilled at the top of her lungs. She sounded as if she was going to be murdered at any moment.

“Genevieve what is it? What’s wrong!?” The man called back, equally alarmed.

“I have seen them. They are here. My powers of divination cannot be any more precise. The spirits are churning today and they have shown me….a windmill….a dock…..the ocean…..and the marketplace! We must act quickly! Gather your guard and round them up! They are here!”

“Guards! You heard her, search the city starting in those areas our great witch has divined from the beyond and capture the enemies of the High Council of Airyglyph!” The small platoon of guards let out a cry and left the mayor’s house to begin their search. The mayor followed them out, with Augustine in tow. As all of these men stampeded out of the house Genevieve looked over her shoulder down the hallway to where Devlin was, the door still shut. She then turned to the young girl she had seen before.

“Be safe, huh? Trust him. He’ll know what to do.” And Genevieve left her following after the gaggle of morons she had so easily manipulated.

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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#, as written by Celsium
Celsia stared up at the dark night sky and she slowly strolled back towards the center of Kirlsa. The marketplace was now quiet, all the baubles and goods had been packed away and all that remained were the shells of the once-full merchant tents. She had gotten so caught up in conversation with her new acquaintance that they hadn't even realized how late it was. Feeling very worn from the new sights and sounds of the day, Celsia began to head back towards town on her own. "I'll catch up.",Cae had said to her, with his toothy grin.

She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and smiled to herself. Even if Kirlsa was less interesting than she anticipated, it was something new, and she was happy.

As she approached the outskirts of the village center, the sound of hurried footsteps grew nearer. Distant shouting was carried by the seabreeze, as well. Did someone get into a tavern fight? she wondered. Rounding a corner, she started, almost bumping into someone. "Oh!" The girl froze in her step, deeply embarrassed. "Excuse me. I'm sorry," She mumbled. A cursory glance at the man revealed him to be a cloaked guard of some sort, or so she believed. The crest on his shoulder looked vaguely familiar. She was glad she didn't run into him. As she moved to walk around him, he quickly moved out his arm to block her way. With his free arm, he held up a small lantern to illuminate her face. "Miss, you're going to have to come with me." The light revealed a deep crimson cloak draped over his form, almost claret in the night. The color made her feel incredibly uneasy, though she was unsure why.


"I-I'm sorry?" She was flabbergasted. "I didn't do anything. I-- oh!" She held out her satchel to him. "Do you think I stole something from the market? You can check my bag. I assure you, I would never."

The guard put his hand on the bag and lowered it. "We have business with you. Come with me now." As he reached for her, she stepped back. "If you resist, this will not be pleasant for you..." His free hand disappeared into his cloak, but Celsia didn't want to ask why. Taking a few more steps back, she nervously looked over her shoulder.

Did they find out I've been consorting with a pirate?! Her heart began to beat faster. The light shone onto the man's cloaked head. Wait, why does he look so.. her eyes grew wide, noticing the blade the man had retrieved. The sound of the windmill slowly grinding away put her on edge. She quickly grabbed for the dagger strapped to her leg, and held it out towards him, arms shaking.
"I- I know how to fight!" The familiar stranger approached her."I'm warning you, this is your last chance." He growled. Celsia shook her head. "I didn't do anything wrong, I'm not going with you unless you tell me why."

"So be it."

The cloaked figure lunged for her, blade prepared. She swiftly side-stepped away from him, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Twisting his body, he swung his bladeless arm to her, knocking her off balance. Quickly shuffling herself back onto her trembling legs, she held out her dagger once more. I really have to fight him, don't I? Her question was answered as he once more attempted to strike- this time, though, Celsia was prepared to strike back.
She ducked out of the blade's reach- an easy task for someone so short- and sliced her dagger upwards, cutting through the crimson cloak and into the man's arm. The blade she carried had never been used before- thank goodness- so it's razor sharp edge cut deep.
With a grunt, he withdrew his arm, blood beginning to soak into his sleeve. Celsia could hear footsteps not far off. "Over here!" He shouted, cutting through the silence.
Once again he lashed out towards the girl, his blade connecting this time with the edge of her ear. "Ah!" She winced for a moment, but had little time to focus on the pain as two more cloaked figures came around the corner.
"Grab the bitch. She has a blade, watch yourself." He mumbled to the others. One ran up from behind her and grabbed her arm. Celsia lifted up her legs and kicked the other as he came near, knocking him to the ground, and sending her holder off balance. She quickly wriggled out of his grasp and spun her dagger around, cutting open his upper chest. There's too many, I need to find Cae- she used the opportunity to make a run for the gap between them. The first man grabbed her shawl with his bloodied arm, catching her off-guard, and another took a fistful of her hair and pulled her backwards. She shrieked, "CAEDES!"

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Cae finished another pint of whatever this local drink was, and set the mug down a bit roughly, a large grin on his face. He got up and stretched for a moment before making his way towards a group of other men, pretending to chat with them for a bit before moving on to another group.. and another, until he was near the door. Before exiting, he gave a fake little wave to the bartender who hadn't noticed him slipping out the door without paying his tab. "This town is too easy."

He chuckled, as he flipped his bronze coin a few times as it grew dark, never worrying about losing sight of it, his better than average night vision wouldn't allow for it. Catching the coin a final time, he looked around, his ears almost twitching at the noises he heard. For a quiet place like Kirlsa, there sure was a lot of yelling going on in a few different places. Ah well, probably just some drunks. Nothing new.

It wasn't long before Cae's ear twitched again, two sets of footsteps rapidly approached him. His hand readied on his blade if need be as he turned around to face the two approaching him. Even with crimson cloaks on, Cae could tell they were armed, they surely didn't hide it well. "G'day gents." He gave a single wave with his left hand once he was sure that the two were coming for him, and not headed elsewhere. "What can I do for ya?" He flashed them his signature smile as he looked the two over. Early thirties the both of them, one fairly tall, the other average. Their hair were mostly hidden by a hood, but both had brown eyes. Clean hands, new cloaks, new leather chest armor, not much mud on their boots. They were green, hardly worth his time, and so his right hand released the hilt of his blade.

"You need to come with us." The tall one commanded as the shorter one gave Caedes a good look for the first time, the many scars and sword on open display, adding in, "If... if y-you resist.. it will not be pleasant."

Caedes gave the two a genuine grin, looking between the two before laughing heartily. "Oh man...That's rich. That was just the thing I wanted to hear before going to bed." He took a step towards the two, both their hands moved to their respective blades, ready to draw. "Oh no... You don't want to do that..." Cae warned, his eyes noticeably getting sharper, his grin becoming more wild, unbeknownst to Cae as he blinked, they shifted for a moment, becoming an almost golden color before returning to their normal look of deep red. As he took another step, the taller one, with either more backbone, or less brains, pulled out his sword, and thrust it forward. Caedes simply moved his right leg back, rotating his body so he wasnt facing the two, and leaned away from the thrusting steel, his hands raising slightly as he did so. In that moment, the man shifted his head to look up at the smug Cae, but before he could react, Cae's right hand had gripped the man's own hand that was holding the sword, and pulled it further, right into Cae's left fist, backhanding the man's face and toppling him. The ex-pirate looked to the shorter man, his grin never fading, though his eyes were still fierce. "If you use a weapon, you best be prepared to die by one... These are no toys. Now tell me..." He moved to where the toppled man who was clutching at his jaw was struggling to get up, drawing his own shortsword and pointing it down at the man, right between the eyes. "...Am I going to have to teach you more lessons?"

The two men shook their heads, staring at Cae in silence. "Good then. Now run before I think up more things I could teach you." They certainly didn't hesitate, running with their tails between their legs, the taller one even forgetting his sword. "HEY, YOU FORGOT YOUR SWORD, CATCH~!" Cae yelled after them, laughing to himself as he took the guard's longsword and hurled it at them, dropping to the side as the man ran, not even bothering to pick it up. "Ya try to be nice, and get no respect." He smirked as he shook his head lightly, starting his way back to where he told Cel he would meet her.

A familiar voice pierced the area, "CAEDES" was all it said, and was all he needed to hear before sprinting off towards Cel's cry for help. She wasn't too far off luckily, but Cae cursed. "First those two weaklings... now what?" His mind raced a bit as he picked up the pace. Maybe someone had recognized him and seen her with him? No... they wouldn't send two greenies after him if they knew who he was... So just what was going on..

He arrived near the village center and saw the scene, two men holding down Celsia with a third near by. As he ran closer, he could see one of the men was bleeding, and a bit of a smile formed on his face. 'Huh... so you can fight some.' Shot through his mind before he swiftly ran forward and punched down the standing man before he could realize who was approaching. Cae stopped where he was, his left hand rubbing over the knuckles of his right as he looked down at the two men holding Celsia. Although on the inside Cae was relieved, and excited for a fight, his outward appearance was that of a killer. His eyes narrow, his lips tight, no grin on his face. "Would you two mind getting off my friend there?" The two men looked up at him, not sure if they had just seen what they thought they had seen.

Celsia strained to turn her head towards the familiar voice, her hair still in the grasp of her assailant. "Cae! Go, these men have blades, you're going to get hurt-" The cloaked figure pushed her face into the cobblestone.

"Shut up girl!" The cut man yelled as he pushed Cel's face down. "And you! Just who the fuck..." He trailed off for a moment as he looked up at Cae clearly for the first time. "You! You're the other target. Just what are those two idiots doing, they should have found you by now."

"Oh... they're dead." Cae said bluntly as he lied to the man. "And... if you'd like, you can meet up with them, if you don't release my girl here and tell us just what in the fuck is going on." As he spoke, he slowly drew out his shortsword, letting the tip of it drag a bit in the sheath so that the noise lingered for a moment. "So... what's it gonna be? Or do I have to cut you up more than you already are?" Cae could see that this man was more experienced than the others, but with his injured arm, he was hardly worth the time, and it seemed like he knew it as well. After thinking about it, while the other man sat their dumbfounded, the two let go of Celsia, stood up, and backed up a little, out of reach of Cae's shortsword. "We were told to find certain people, and bring them to the windmill over there." He said with a point to the only tall structure in the area. "Honestly, that is all we were told, to escort you there, by force if necessary."

As soon as she was able, Cel scurried over to where Caedes stood. She looked to him with wide eyes, "Remember how I said I thought I saw someone in that reflection..." She gingerly touched her ear where the man had cut through. Did he really kill two of those men? she wondered. His blade didn't look like it had been used, but she wasn't sure.

"Well maybe you should tell your men to make that a bit more obvious when approaching someone.." Cae sighed as he let his arms drop to his side. He looked towards the windmill, but only for a moment, his gaze drifting as it scanned for any other lurking guards. The one he knocked out was rousing a bit next to him, but other than that, no one else seemed to be around, not that Caedes could sense anyway. Finally turning back to the two standing guards, his smile returned, his eyes not longer looking as sharp. "Tell you what boys. You are going to gather up your friend here," He said while pointing to the still rousing man, "And get out of my sight before I force you to join those other two. And we, "His hand moved to point to himself and Cel, his tone was that of talking to a child, "Are going to go to that windmill without you." At the words you, he pointed at the two soldiers. Each point vexed the cut guard, and it was making Cae quite happy. Without waiting for a reply, Cae sheathed his weapon, put his arm around Cel's shoulder to turn her as he turned himself and started to walk towards the mill. "Let's go Celsia. We're leaving."

Behind him he could hear the two guards moving to check on their comrade, and helping him to his feet to drag him off.

After they were out of ear shot, Cae let go of Cel's shoulder and looked down at her with a smile as they walked, "So... what happened to defending yourself?"

Still trying to calm herself from the turbulence, Celsia gave him the stink eye. "I did just fine without you, thanks. Didn't you see how bad I cut them up?" In truth, the thought of her injuring someone else was a little unsettling to her, but at the same time she felt very capable. "I mean, they got me back, but.." She tugged on her ear, "That guy will have a sizable scar as a reminder, at least."

He gave a laugh as he brought his hand up, then down onto her head, patting her gently. "You did just fine on your own. But I'll give you some training sometime so that doesn't happen again." The man said, smiling reassuringly to the girl, finally moving his hand from her head as they headed on through the night towards the windmill.

Celsia ran the events through her head again as she walked. "Wait- did you just refer to me as 'your girl'??"

Cae tilted his head back for a moment in thought, both hands moving up again to rest behind his head, right above the ponytail, his eyes looking down through their corners, a wide grin on his face, "Huh? Oh nothing~" He teased as he began to hum to himself the song she had sung earlier, getting close to arrive at the windmill.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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Mack had been ready for things to come to blows, but for the time being things had calmed. It was probably for the best considering the seemingly delicate nature of the lady beside. She stayed close to Hans as they walked, giving the men with blades a hard look when they edged too close. Every time a blade-tip pressed close to either her or her companion, the iron-filled duffel would swing behind just enough to drive them back a bit. The show of force was understood, but she made it clear she wasn't going to be menaced by it.

She had done work for the city planner and other fine upstanding organizations in the past, but that was not the extent of her experience. Seldom was there a large industrial city with no seedy underbelly. The bigger and more dangerous they were, the more they had to spend and without the bureaucratic red tape, criminal organizations were often at the forefront of technology. This wasn't the first meeting she'd attended at the tip of a blade, and they had often turned out in her favor.

Still, she would not be intimidated by matching uniforms and pocket knives. She walked with the same confident swagger she always did, whistling off key as her bag swung behind, forcing their escorts to either dance back and forth to avoid it or keep a respectable distance. When one reached to try to grab hold of the bag, she turned, heavy metal wrapped in canvas striking the extended fingers hard. "Hands off," she warned before continuing her walk, the man clutching his blade with one hand as he nursed the broken fingers of the other.

The windmill itself was far from inviting, but that was no surprise either. When they were invited in, Mack stepped through the door, turning just in time to see Hans panic and call for help. She moved to catch the distraught young woman as the door slammed behind, helping her steady herself with a reassuring grip at her arm. Whatever these pretentious toughs were trying to sell, she wouldn't let them rough up an innocent girl.

Following the cloaked man's lead down to the basement, Mackenzie looked around at the scene. Candles, more hooded guards, and a man bound on the floor between them, none of which were reassuring. She moved a hand to grip at a wrench, sliding it loose of the pocket this time, calm but ready to swing. She positioned herself protectively beside Hans - it wasn't yet clear whether the girl was in a heap of trouble or if she had been dragged along from her proximity to Mack - but in either case, she wasn't about to let somebody she had only just rescued fall victim to more violence.

"Alright. We're here now. Who's in charge?"

She glanced around as another was added to their number, this time a dark haired man with blue eyes. Escorted by guards and demanding to know what was going on, this man was obviously not the answer to her question. This was getting to be concerning. Still, the more captives they brought down, the more allies there would be if it came to a fight, and this guy looked like he might actually stand a chance. If she could get something sharp to the man on the ground, that would be three fighters plus one delicate princess. Not bad odds by her count.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Cae was casually taking his time, hands still resting behind his head with his arms up, watching the groups of people from a distance as he leisurely strolled towards the windmill. 'Hey! Over here! Hey!!' one of the two women called out to them before being shoved inside. "Looks like a party, huh?" He spoke, not quickening his pace at all, clearly in no immediate rush.

Cel gave her partner an incredulous look, "Did you see the cloaked men with them? I think they could be in a situation like we were a moment ago.." She gave the windmill another cursory glance. "Didn't they want to bring us to the windmill, too?"

"They sure did." Cae nodded as he watched a man with blue hair be escorted into it as well only a few moments later. "Well... there is clearly some hidden room in there... unless they expected all of us to be buddy buddy and stand on top of each other." He sighed slightly. The pair continued to approach the windmill, Cae doing his best to inspect it as they grew closer, not noticing anything particularly special about the top of it- no lights, no sounds- so clearly they weren't being taken up, so the only other option was down. He started to think over his options.

Well, the two of them were outnumbered. Even if the three other captives were proficient at fighting, there were at least two guards per captive, and who knows how many more were stationed inside. But the only way to find out was to get in and look around. He stopped in his tracks for a moment. "What do you want to do?" His head turned towards his partner, raising a brow, wondering what the girl might be thinking.

She chewed on her lower lip, thinking for a minute. Barely out into the world and already caught up in a strange situation, she wasn't sure if she wanted to get caught up into more trouble. Still though, it was obvious the people pushed into the windmill weren't being led by their own volition, and if one of those cloaked men could attack her, she was sure they could do the same to those people. "I think we should check it out." She waved her hand a bit. "Well, I mean, if you think it's safe. I don't think the people in there will be much for conversation..."

"Really? I think that's their main topic, actually." He said rather bluntly as he started back up again. "Sure, they were threatening you, and wouldn't hesitate to harm you. But that man you cut had plenty of chances to kill you had he wanted.. so they are trying to gather us for a reason, and until then, I think they won't do anymo-" Cae cut himself off as he turned his head at the approaching pair of footsteps jogging to them. "Well, these two clearly aren't of the same group..." He said aloud as they approached and the boy gave his frantic request.

Cel narrowed her eyes at Cae. "They wouldn't have killed me, I had them handled just fine...." Her voice trailed off as the two strangers approached them. They both looked rather reserved, and it was obvious they were on edge about something. As she eyed them closer, she realized she had seen them somewhere before, as well. Putting a shaky hand on the side of her dizzy head, she listened to the boy speak. Are they caught up in this as well? She wondered.

The two were clearly worried about something going on, and it seemed far too coincidental that these men were gathering up people to the windmill. Cae looked down at the boy with a reassuring smile. Taking note of his appearance and the way he carried himself. A timid boy who was pushed to do something he didn't want to, ask help, from a stranger no less. The tattoo he had under his eye was a bit of a surprise though. But what Cae noticed the most was a flicker of determination behind his eyes, that shone through his stuttering. And then there was the girl. Not too much shorter than the boy, dark clothing, and looking around a bit to avoid eye contact. Not too unlike the boy before him, but seemingly more bothered by the asking for help.
His hands dropped down, one of them swiftly fishing out the old bronze coin, flipping it into the air and catching it, putting it onto his hand. "Call it, boy. If you're right, I'll help ya out." Cae had a feeling, a nagging notion, that no matter what the boy called, Cae would be helping him. Somehow he was sure all this was tied together somehow, and he couldn't help but feel the hunger for a new hunt grow inside him.

Devlin looked between the two confused, and nervously, eyeing the coin for a moment before stammering out a response before the coin his his hand. "T... Tails!"

"Well, looks like you win." Cae spoke as he removed his hand, not even looking at the coin, feeling that he had already won. "Here's the deal. This lovely lady and I have a date in that windmill with a bunch of assholes." As he spoke, he was putting the coin away, confirming that the boy before him had indeed won, and pointing to the foreboding windmill. "Now... it's just a hunch, but it seems like you might know something about these weird cultist guys that are after us. I understand if you can't tell us now.. but you are welcome to use my boat for shelter until we return, it's the small one with a single cabin, probably the only one in the port right now." Without waiting to see what the others were doing, he started walking, waving a hand over his head to the pair. "Name's Cae. You can thank me later. Or, you could come with us for the hunt." He flashed his smile over his shoulder.

Looking between the two and her friend, Cel watched Cae as he casually strolled away. "Sorry, um," she pointed a thumb at Cae, then gave a quick half-bow to the two strangers. "I'm Celsia Vorrine." She mumbled, then quickly ran to catch up to Caedes.

The timid pair looked to each other, shocked by the man who offered them sanctuary over a coin flip. "T-thank you..But... we will.. we will go to your boat.." Devlin stammered out, accepting the kindness from the two strangers. At the blonde woman's bow, he gave his own, taking notice of her more polite nature. The pair headed off to the port in search of the man's boat.

"Hope you are ready Cel, get your knife drawn and your reflexes sharp. We are walking into their territory." Unlike what Cae had told Cel to do, his hands were finding their way back behind his head, neither taking the appearance of one with sharp reflexes, or drawing his weapon. As the two approached the door, Cae moved his hand to knock on it, shrugged, then casually kicked the door in.

"Helllooooo~" He called out. listening for any sort of motion about. It was exactly a large room, and the stairs leading up clearly hadn't been used in some time. Looks like my hunch was right He looked around and sighed, kicking the rug to the side. "How cliche can you be..? Well. Get ready Cel, time to see why we were invited here." He pulled open the trap door and descended into the darkness, faint light could be seen below them, along with a small murmur of voices, too far off and distorted by the echos to make out. The pair made their way down the stairs, awaiting their encounter with the group.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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#, as written by Celsium
-Celsia Vorrine-


The room was dark, save for the dim light that emanated from the small candles nearby. The groan and grind of the windmill overhead churned away, muffled.

Where am I?

Celsia opened her eyes. The walls were still dirt. The candles still flickered. The cloaked crimson figures she had seen before now stood before her, threatening them all. All of their faces were ones she recognized, and yet she knew none of them.

The leader of the group spoke. He was clearly a nobleman of some type- his clothes were spotless and he carried himself with a sort of pompous arrogance. So why was he bothering with the people in this room?

"For the sake of Ter'Ciel, these four will die here tonight."

She felt her heart beat harder. He wants to kill them? Her eyes scanned over them again. Other than the fair maiden that wore beautiful lace and had golden hair, the others all looked like relatively normal people. The other woman looked like she made a living by working with her hands, and vaguely reminded Celsia of her friend, Gar. There were two other young men sitting near them, one with a sort of bemused look on his face, and the other clearly irritated. What threat could they be?

"But for you two...I propose the following; you share a destiny with these other souls. You possess a power too great for this world to handle. Surely, you must be aware of this...even somewhat. Things you do that others cannot? Feelings and instincts that overpower you? The constant, nagging feeling that you a different from ordinary people?"

Her eyes shot back up to the man. He was right. She felt that way quite often- when she had her strange dreams, or saw things she felt she shouldn't see. Did he know something about her she did not?

She watched as the man extended his hand out towards Caedes, with a sickening grin creeping onto his hooded face. It made her feel uncomfortable, though it was not the first time she had seen it. With a sideways glance towards Cae, she wished desperately that she could speak to him. But the room was quiet as the grave, and she knew any words she spoke would be heard by the others. I need you to trust me on this one. She thought, hoping maybe he could somehow hear it.

Though he reached to stop her, Celsia brushed past Caedes and stepped towards the man. "I don't want to fight anymore." Her quiet voice seemed very loud, cutting through the silence. "You say that you can tell me what my destiny is, and why I'm this way..." She gave a defeated sigh. "If I go with you, you swear you'll offer mercy to me?" The words felt selfish as they left her mouth, but it was the best option she could think of.

The man gave her a dark smile, and leaned a little closer, clearly pleased with himself. "Your wisdom belies your age," He gave Caedes an irritated look. "It appears the wisdom of the ancients is not completely lost..." Cae narrowed his eyes at the man and her, perplexed at what she could be doing. Still though, he remained silent, watching the events play out.

She stepped closer to the man still, "I want to be strong," She mumbled, "I want.. that power you spoke of." The man reached out his hand to her once more. "And I can give it to you," he promised. She took his hand in her own and gave him a sheepish smile.

"But.." Her smile faded, "Someone as weak as you couldn't offer me anything like that." In one fluid motion Celsia summoned her strength and held his wrist fast, pulling out her blade and stabbing it into his palm. With a roar of anger the man struck her, knocking her dagger to the ground. He roughly pulled her to him, retrieving a blade from his long sleeve.
"Insolent whelp!" Grayson pushed the tip of the dagger into Celsia's neck gently. A small droplet of blood began to form at the indent. Lord Grayson regained his composure, turning back toward Cae. "If you wish to watch this foolish wretch die before you, by all means, advance." He paused a moment, sizing the man up. Then, he called to his underlings. "Bind him."

Caedes gave Celsia an incredulous look. "I told you to be prepared, not fall into his trap... "He shook his head and let out a gruff sigh as the lackeys began to bind his hands behind his back. I can't believe she thought that would work.

Shit. Thought Celsia, I really thought that would work.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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#, as written by Celsium
She squeezed her eyes shut as the boy before her raised his blade high- but no harm came to her. With a powerful shove by an unknown force, the cloaked assailant in front of her was slammed into the wall. She whipped her head towards a dark-haired woman and felt herself become faint upon seeing her face. Was it because she, too, was familiar? No, it was something more than that. Some type of power radiated about her. A witch?

Celsia complied and offered her hair to the mysterious dark lady. It wasn't like she could say no- after all, the woman had just prevented her untimely death. Watching in a trance, the woman began to chant incantations, stronger and louder with each word. The air in the room felt thick, and heavy, as if they were underwater. And yet the air began to swirl and rush by with great force.
It was hard to breathe. Like an intense and powerful heat wave, something in the air was overpowering. Celsia looked up to face her friend, but instead a raging storm at sea crashed at her feet.

What is happening?! She looked up into the clouds and the sky opened up like a canvas, hosting blurry visions and images. They flashed by her eyes one after another- some places she had never been to- some faces she had seen before. She looked back down. Perched atop scorched earth, a great chasm had torn through the earth and there was no sign of life anywhere. Where am I?!
The world around her began to spin uncontrollably, the wind blowing around like a raging tornado, the visions swirling before her. There was grass beneath her feet- snow- cobblestone-- she couldn't keep up. Trapped in a torrent reverie, she thought she could hear someone scream one last incantation.
The ground stopped shifting, the world stopped spinning. Celsia closed her eyes and fell away with her visions into the darkness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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The mans eyes were frantic, looking for an opening, looking for anything that he could use to try and help Cel out of the dire situation. Only one thing came to mind, while everyone watched the boy with the blade, Cae's hand went to his sword. He inched slightly as the boy fought with himself, clearly not wanting to do stab Celsia, but from what Cae could tell, starting to lose himself to the will of Grayson. 'Sorry kid.. nothing personal.' He thought to himself as he readied himself to slash through the guard that was guiding Devlin's hand, and cut off Devlin's hand if needed. Right as he took his breath, a woman yelled out a foreign word, and there was a sudden blast of energy. With the confusion, Cae fixed himself, trying to not look too obvious, but he was just as curious as the rest of the group was. What had just happened.

A witch? Here? Just what he would have liked the least to be there, was someone using magic. While Cae had some run ins with wannabe mages or witches, he had never really experienced a spell up close like this, a shudder vibrated through his spine. He couldn't even see the spell, so how was he going to fight a witch and manage to get out. His mind was a race, his eyes scanning around constantly, but always finding a moment to look back and make sure Cel was alright.

As the witch spoke, Cae started to get a feeling from her. It was almost as if she was stalling.. And she surely was giving out a lot more information than anyone else had since entering here.. Was she trying to save them? 'Woah. Hey there.' He thought for a moment as the witch came and plucked one of his hairs. His eyes gave her a glance over, despite her attire, she had a figure, and he couldn't help take notice. Shaking his head clear for a moment, he noticed Cel had been released, so that the witch could retrieve a lock of hair from her as well. 'I hate magic...' He thought again before his eyes widened at what he was witnessing. He could feel a strange energy churning around him, the hair on his body standing on end as his instincts to run went crazy. The floor vibrated, the cave they were in shook, he could feel it all, he could sense the disaster incoming. This was no place to be with this much energy going rampant. He made a move to get to Cel as all eyes were on the witch. Except for the larger, more built woman that had come in ahead of him. He glanced over at the familiar sound of a head being caved in by a blunt tool. His grin that had been lost since Cel's capture had returned. 'Looks like the party is starting.'

As he took his steps towards Celsia and Grayson, Cae felt some weird pressure on his head, but he didnt think anything of it. All that was on his mind was grabbing Cel and getting out of this cave before it collapsed. All this energy was freaking him out for some reason, but he took deep breaths, remaining cool and collected. A guard that had turned from the magic faced him, looking up slightly, just above Cae's head, his brows furrowed in confusion, but Cae didn't question it. In a swift horizontal motion, Cae cut him open then moved to the next, each one, for some reason looking up, above his head. He didn't have time to look around to see what was going on. Everything was clear around him. He could hear every breath in the room, he could smell the scent of blood pouring from the victims of the wrench and his own blade, the scent of fear as the cultists were slowly realizing what was going on. His eyes were sharp. While the pirate had been known for his good vision before, this was to the next level. Every little detail could be seen. Every movement, he could see, process, and react to, it was like he was an animal going for the kill. Nothing was going to escape him. Unknown to him, he had infact grown a pair of black furred, canine like ears from the top of his head, and his eyes had shifted from their normal deep red, to a bright, vibrant yellow.

As he got closer, the cultists backed away, afraid of the demon walking before them. Despite Grayson's commands to attack, they started to mostly ignore the pirate with glowing yellow eyes, pushing each other back to get away. "Smart choice. Guess you recognize the Silver Fang finally. " The scarred face smirked as he made his way to Cel, who thankfully had stepped a few wobbly feet closer to the witch, and luckily away from Grayson. Before he could get to her, she started to collapse. "CEL!" He yelled, jumping to her while putting his sword away, catching her in his arms before she could hit the dirt. She was unconcious, the magic must have done something to her. Or maybe the shock of almost being a sacrifice... oh well, she was safe now. Shifting her onto his back, he hunched over a bit and wrapped her arms around him, both his hands supporting the small girls legs. He knew she was light, but for some reason, she felt lighter than normal, like he was stronger. Maybe it was all the adrenaline kicking in, but it felt like she was nothing.

Next were the two kids, Devlin and the black haired girl. From the sound of it, the larger woman was helping out one of the other prisoners, so they should be ok. And most of the cultists were trying to leave as well. "Hey, kid!" He looked down at the two, not sure what was going on with the black haired girl, but she looked like she was having a panic attack. "Dev. Snap out of it. Get her out of her. COME ON KID! Be a man and help me get these two out of here." They didn't have time to stand there trying to comfort everyone, and they were now becoming more separated from the other group of prisoners from collapsing ceilings and walls spliting open. His head turned back to Devlin. "If you don't hurry up, I'm leaving without you." He spoke rather harshly, but he needed the boy to snap out of it and move.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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Devlin Íobairt


'I...I was going to kill her...'

The phrase reverberated in his head over and over. He knew he was powerless. He knew that another hand was guiding his own. But nothing seemed to justify the cold fact that he, himself, had been mere seconds away from taking an innocent life.

Devlin stared into the distance, eyes cloudy and vacant.

Why? Why did Lord Grayson forcing him to do that? These people trapped down here...they didn't appear to be dangerous or evil. And if his master truly did want them dead, he had an entire group of people who were apparently under his command down here with him. It made no sense for the horrific deed to fall upon the shoulders of a young servant.

The witch lady had returned, stopping him from killing the girl. She spoke to Lord Grayson, convincing him she needed more time for...something. Devlin didn't know. His senses took in the sights and sounds of the room, but everything failed to reach his consciousness. He was numb. Lost in his own labyrinth of shock and guilt.

She was performing some kind of ritual, it seemed. The air in the room became heavy and it was difficult to breathe. Devlin wasn't sure if it was due to whatever spell the witch was casting, or if it was all in his own mind...the image of the cowering girl and the dagger in his hand the only thing he could truly see in great detail.

Frantic incantation. An unseen wave crashing against him. And then the ground beneath him began to tremble. All around him was panic. The people in cloaks were scrambling about and Devlin could hear the faint sounds of fighting from somewhere behind him.

"Hey, kid!"

More yelling. Was the windmill collapsing? Was that the cause of all the commotion?

"Dev, snap out of it! Get her out of here. COME ON, KID!"

Someone shoved past Devlin, knocking him to his hands and knees. He looked up, eyes wide as he saw the man with the silver hair, Cae was it? He had been the one yelling to him. Devlin saw him carrying the girl from earlier. The one he'd almost...

'No! I...'

The boy was ripped from his guilt by a strange sight...

It was Cae. His eyes were shining a bright yellow, illuminated even more intensely in the darkness of the cellar. And above them...on top of his head... Ears? They were furry, like a dog's. Perked up as if they were listening intently.

'H-how on...?'

"If you don't hurry up I'm leaving without you!"

Cae was right. Devlin needed to move. A pair of dog's ears wasn't even the strangest thing that had happened tonight. But if he were to give up, if he were to surrender and die here tonight, then he would never get the answers that his heart yearned for. He mustered the strength to speak...

"A-all right!"

Devlin turned toward the girl with the dark hair. She was panicked, staring off into nothingness just as he was moments ago. Her eyes were filled with horror.

Gently, he took hold of her shoulders.

"Hey. Hey! Please! It's okay. We're going to be okay if we can just get out of here. Don't be afraid."

The girl didn't respond. He could feel her body trembling, almost radiating with energy and emotion. All around them the foundation collapsed. Support beams cracked as if hit with a sledgehammer. Glass shattered and dirt fell from above. But the area around them was untouched.

Devlin hugged the girl tightly, arms wrapping around her slight frame. He laid his chin on her shoulder and spoke to her.

"Please...don't be afraid. We're all right. We're going to be all right. Everyone is together now and we'll be fine. Please...we have to go now."

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd meant by 'everyone is together now.' Perhaps it was merely the fact that they had all been dragged into this madness. Whatever the reason, the words flowed from Devlin because they just felt right. In the collapsing darkness of this hell they found themselves in, it was a welcomed miracle that finally something somehow felt right.

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Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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Maren LeChance


'Gimme a break here!'

Maren rolled to the side as a large wooden beam came crashing down upon the spot he'd just been sitting. Sawdust and dirt clouded the room upon impact as the entire structure seemed to be collapsing. He stumbled, trying to get to his feet, but with his hands still tied behind his back, it was next to impossible to get sure footing as the very ground below was trembling. Maren felt his knees buckle and he fell back to the floor.

It seemed that the entire universe was determined that he should die tonight. Again, he shifted his weight and tried to stand...

'I promise, Gods, I won't have anything to do with girls anymore. I won't drink. I won't go out. I'll become a monk and serve you guys for the rest of my peaceful life. Just pleeeeaaaase get me the hell outta here!'

He looked up, squinting through the chaos, to see the rest of the captives making their way to the exit.

"H-hey! Hey! What about me!? You guys - Oof!"

He was pushed to he knees once more by one of the cloaked lackeys. They all seemed to be in a panic. Clearly they hadn't accounted for a sudden earthquake to ruin their plans. A really, really well timed earthquake at that. Maybe the Gods were looking out for him...

It was then, as Maren was trying to get to his feet once more, that he saw her.

'Hey...isn't that?'

The witch from earlier. She had performed some kind of complicated spell. But for what purpose? Maren wasn't sure. But whatever it was, it must have been powerful, because the chick was out cold. A tiny trickle of blood was still running from her nose.

He had seen a few women who had called themselves witches, back in the city. Really, they weren't much more than overpriced prostitutes with a few parlor tricks up their sleeves. But this woman was different. Maren had felt the energy in the room become charged when she spoke her mumbo jumbo. He'd actually felt the impact of a...[/i]something[/i] when she'd finished her incantation.

All around her, people clamored as the structure continued to fall. Did they not see her? Was everyone really so selfish that they didn't care about her anymore? He wondered if, perhaps now that she'd served her purpose, that this cult or whatever might be done with her?

She was beautiful, that was for sure. Even covered in a layer of dust and dirt and with blood on her face. Strands of dark hair fell across her features and Maren's eyes couldn't help but follow the curves of her figure despite the current crisis at hand. He had to help her. Had to get her out of here. It was bad enough leaving someone to die down here. But a gorgeous and dangerous woman? Hell no! Not today.

Classic one-track mind in full force, Maren got to his knees, scooting over to the unconscious beauty.

"Hey! Hey, lady, can you hear me!? C'mon, get up!"

He nudged her, only to have the woman roll limply to the side. No good. He was going to have to carry her out himself. But he couldn't do anything with his hands still tied.

Another surge of power hit the building and more of the structure began to break apart. He could hear the anguished cries of those unlucky enough to get caught under the falling wreckage. Time was quickly running out. Frantic eyes scanned the room for something, anything that could help.

Crrrrrrack!!

Another support beam hit the ground mere feet away, the once sturdy wood splintering on impact. Just then, Maren was hit by a flash of inspiration.

'In a time of destruction, create something.'

The words echoed in his head. Words he'd often spoke to himself over the years. It was a personal motto, of sorts. One that served as a reminder to use his creativity and ingenuity - traits that had always come easy to the young man, to get him out of life's trouble spots. And this was one hell of a trouble spot.

It clicked in an instant. Maren slid toward the support beam, kicking in the weakened area with the heel of his boot. Another kick. And another. With every hit, the wood cracked and splintered until, finally, it looked jagged enough to be usable.

Turning around, he backed up into it, rubbing the coarse rope that bound his wrists against the sharpened wood. Maren rocked back and forth in a sawing motion until he felt the liberating snap of the rope breaking. Instantly, the pressure on his wrists was relieved. Shaking the feeling back into his hands, Maren jumped to his feet.

From what he could see, the path to the obvious exit was all but blocked off by debris. If they were going to escape now, they would have to find another way out. Returning to the unconscious woman, he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. Thankfully, she was rather petite and easy to carry. Not like this one girl he'd met outside a tavern once in Davonshire. Big Bertha, the guys had called her. She'd had too much to drink one night and he'd had to carry her back -

Boom!

The ground shook as another large support beam fell. Nope. It was definitely time to go. Young woman in his arms, Maren made his way toward the back of the large room. He thought he'd seen the group's ringleader retreat this way into the shadows when the chaos began to erupt. Sure enough, there was another way out. A darkened path that seemed to lead away from the main part of the building. A back exit, perhaps?

The odds were good enough for Maren. Readjusting his grip on the woman (and keeping his hand on her bottom for just a second too long) he began his descent into the passage, creating his own destiny with each step.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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"I'll tell you now I'm the one to survive
You'll never break my faith or my stride"


Kai Seward


Things couldn't get any more bizarre. There were now several more people in the room, presumably also dragged here by the cloaked individuals. There were no noticeable similarities among them- the prisoners ranged from a man who had clearly seen his share of battles to a rather frail looking girl. Some of them looked terrified, others were keeping their cools and waiting for the right moment to make a move. There was no indication of why they might have all been gathered there. At least until the presumed leader finally spoke, announcing that they were all to die.

Kai tensed, ready to fight back. He was at a great disadvantage, but there was no way he was going to die here, not in this place, not to some psychos who apparently had nothing better to do with their lives. Whatever was going on, he was going to get out of there.

The first one to make a move, strangely enough, was the most frail-looking girl there. Not surprisingly, she was quickly apprehended, giving the cultists another advantage over the rest of them. Kai wasn't exactly the one to let innocent people die, but if it came to kill or be killed, he'd have to put his own well-being over the girl's.

As the man, apparently known as Grayson, ordered a young boy to kill her, Kai glanced around, searching for an opening. Would it cause enough of a distraction for him to break free? He was still flanked by two of the cultists, but maybe they would be so busy watching this unfold that he could overpower them...

Before anybody was able to make a move, however, something was shouted and a man went flying into a wall. This was followed by a rather beautiful dark-haired woman collecting strands of hair from everybody and setting up what seemed to be a totally different ritual than what Grayson had in mind.

Okay, so things could get more bizarre. But surely nothing could top this, right?

As the woman continued her ritual, some unknown force began to well up inside of the room. While he still had absolutely no clue what was going on, something told him this would be their chance to make an escape. The energy picked up as the woman continued to chant, louder and louder, the spell taking a heavy toll on her body. As she collapsed, the ground began to shake. An earthquake? The guards holding him were beginning to panic, conflicted about whether or not to keep their grip on him or save themselves. Taking advantage of their confusion, Kai headbutt one of them in the nose. As he stumbled back, the girl's grip weakened, allowing him to shove her away. The tremors grew in strength, and a large crack echoed throughout the room as a support beam broke. Now was the time to leave.

The man who had been holding his sword dropped it on the ground as he ran to escape. Kai ran toward it before realizing he was still bound. With a heavy, frustrated sigh, he dropped to his knees to reach his sword, grasping the hilt between his hands. Unfortunately, there was no way to use it to cut himself free- not with the place collapsing. He wouldn't have had time to prop it up so that he would have access to the sharp edge, and he didn't want to risk spending any more time in a collapsing windmill basement.

He made his way back to the entrance, narrowly avoiding being knocked out by a falling beam as he crossed the threshold to the staircase. He hobbled up the stairs, sword clanking on each step as it dragged behind him. He couldn't help but think how stupid he must look as he ascended, thankful that everyone was too panicked to really pay any attention to him.

The cool night air welcomed him as he ran out of the windmill. Kai caught up to the others, who had briefly stopped a short distance from the windmill.

"Well, now what?" He asked, glancing from a small-gray haired boy to the tall man with...wolf ears? Whatever, he would question that later. For now, he just needed to know how to get out of here.

"Through our strength, we'll make a better day
Tomorrow, we shall never surrender"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Caedes

"Alright, this should be good for now." Cae huffed out to the ragtag group. They had made it out alive, and were in a breath of panic. For whatever reason, Cae's breathing was quickly recovering, like he hadn't used much energy... but he chalked that up as an adrenaline rush.

It was night now, and only a few lanterns from the town shed light on the rubble that lay behind them. 'Well, now what?' Cae heard from behind him, turning swiftly to keep Cel on his back and out of possible danger, but it was a black haired man, still bound from earlier. "Ah... Dev." He called out, shifting his grip on Cel to search her thigh for the knife she hide there, finding it, and handing it to the boy before returning his hand to under her to make sure she stayed up. "Untie this guy. My hands are full as is."

He noticed everyone giving him strange looks, but they never asked him anything, just, looked at him, then up, then away. 'Maybe they recognize me?' He thought as he looked around at the group. Devlin and Laelynn, the black haired man who was finally being cut free, and two other women, complete opposites of each other from what he could see, that Cae hadn't gotten the names of yet. "So... I don't know about you lot. But I'm gonna go take sleeping beauty here to rest on my ship... I suggest you all try to hide away somewhere. They knew who we were, and where to find us since we got into town..." His expression grew a tad grim as he thought about it. Cae hardly had any ties in this town, even if there were posters of him up from somewhere, the chance of him being found out was fairly slim. "Hide out where you know the people around you.. I'm sure they will be back."

He let the group talk about their plans as they wanted as he moved away a bit, nodding to Devlin to talk with him. "Hey, if you two still need, you can come with me. I offered you safety before, so I intend to keep my promise. I don't know what the others are going to do, but you are your own man, so the choice is your own."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Rais Crevan
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Caedes


Before Devlin had a chance to answer the question, Cae's ears perked, hearing the footsteps approach. He turned to watch the man start speaking. Something about knowing what was going on. He seemed sincere enough, but what after they had all been through, it wasn't too likely most of them would agree to hear him out right yet. Except for maybe this woman, who clearly looked like she had enough of this day.

"This man claims to have a boat docked nearby. Unless you have a better idea?" She said with a nod in his own direction.

'Well... that certainly isn't wrong. But there is no way I can fit this many people on my boat..' He could comfortably fit four or five people, but definitely not the eight that were standing present.

He looked around at the group and shifted Cel's weight to one side of his back, letting him free an arm to retrieve the bronze coin from his pocket. Without a word he flipped it up, caught it, and revealed it to himself and sighed.

"I just can't win, can I?" The man started, muttering to himself before raising his voice. "Aight listen up. Since none of you seem too keen on talking with each other right now... I'll let you in on my boat. We should be safe there for a bit, and then this man can hopefully explain just why the hell we were brought to that dungeon, and why Sleeping Beauty here was almost made into a sacrifice. If you want. Follow me. Otherwise, best of luck to ya." With that, he gave a dismissive salute to the group and started his march towards the docks. With no real place to go, he assumed most of them would start following.

The group made their way down town, walking fast, faces pass the misfit group as the townsfolk hustled about, trying to figure out what had happened to their precious windmill. It wasn't long before they reached the docks, not too many boats about, but enough, mainly from traders and the sort. And there was Cae's boat, really only fit for him and a few others to travel on.

As the group walked along the docks, Cae looked up at the ships. 'This ones not bad... but it's a tall ship... I doubt any of these guys know how to sail a boat like this..' He thought to himself as he looked back. As they passed his boat, he looked at it longing, but his gaze was averted as he saw the perfect ship. An older model steam ship, something any idiot could work once it got started. "Here we are ladies and gents. My lovely boat. It's a bit old mind you, but she works like a charm."

'I hope.'

There were no lights on anywhere that he could see in or on the boat, and the ropes had made it look like it had been anchored here for a while. So most likely no one was on it, but to make sure, Cae lead everyone to the bridge. "Alright, sit tight everyone. I'm gonna go make sure there are any of those cultists around, and then get Cel here onto a bed. They knew I had a boat as well, I dont want their to be any surprises." He didn't wait to hear any protest, just took off down some stairs onto what should lead to a quarters section.

'Been a while since I pirated a boat... and it looks like they bought that story bout the cultists. This might just work out. Though, if any of them think about it a bit... why would I have this large of a boat for just me.' He checked a few of the rooms, taking the biggest for himself and pushing his way in. There was a decent amount of dust on some of the things, enough to prove his suspicions correct.

With the sheets cleaned up enough, Cel was gently placed down upon the bed, the man's hand pushing some of her blonde hair out of her face, though his hand remaining on her cheek for a moment. "Wake up soon.."

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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#, as written by Celsium
Celsia dreamt that night of familiar faces. Recalling the rainy nights on Gola when her family kept her indoors, her Meima, superstitious as always, hung dried red Alkanet roots on the window frame, and placed the delicate blue flowers next to her bed. Celsia wasn't sure how they would bring them health, or luck, or...whatever it was, in the house, considering the plant was all over the island... But she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

"Meresif bestele fase ifil." Meima muttered to herself. An old saying. Rain washes away bad luck. No one really spoke the native Golan language on the island anymore- made it hard to communicate with sailors- but Celsia knew her grandmother was stubborn with her ways,

"Tomorrow if the rain stops, can we go out?" She looked at her grandmother expectantly.

"I suppose," She nodded, "But for now, rest. You'll have plenty to do when you wake up."

-----------------------------------------------------------------




Celsia opened her eyes. She felt the churning of the sea moving the room. A boat. But this wasn't Caedes' cabin.... where was she?

The windmill....! Sitting up, she noticed how dirty her clothes were, and the blood on her hands. Her effects were left behind in the windmill somewhere. What exactly had happened? The witch came into the room and started her incantation, and then.....?

Celsia was immensely relieved to see Caedes in the room. He was safe, though he looked a little roughed up as well, and--

She stared at his head with a look crossed between bewilderment and shock. Ears. Wolf ears. And his eyes were a piercing yellow.
A blood-curdling scream escaped her mouth as she backed up quickly against the wall. Did the witch do this?!
Caedes held up his hands. "Hey--hey whoa hey! Cel calm down! Everything is alright now."

With wide eyes she stared him down. His voice sounded like Caedes, sure, but... "What happened to you??" He raised his brows. "Oh you mean after you passed out?" He looked over himself, seeing his clothing stained with blood and his body dusty from debris. "We had to fight our way out. Sorry. I probably look like a mess."

Cel shook her head. "I'm not talking about your clothes..." She looked intensely at his... ears. "Why do you look ... different?"

"What do you mean?" He gave her a worried look as the ears on his head folded down.

"YOU HAVE WOLF EARS ON YOUR HEAD?" Celsia felt like she was going insane. Maybe this was a strange nightmare brought on by the witch...

"What are you talking ab...?" His hands moved up to check, and there they were. Just what the hell...

"Not to mention your eyes are... ..yellow.." Despite his changed appearance, his usual nonchalant behavior calmed her down a bit. It was definitely Cae, even if he did look... off. She slowly slunk back down onto the cot, briefly patting her own head.. just in case. "This isn't your cabin...did the witch upgrade your boat or something?"

Caedes grinned at her, "I guess you could say that."

He took a seat next to her and began relaying the events that just took place- the witches' spell, the windmill collapsing, and the stranger that claimed he knew how to get them to temporary safety. As she listened intently, Celsia watched his eyes as the golden color slowly dissolved away and back into their usual red hue. ... ? She noted his ears had seem to have gone as well. "Oh.. your...head is back to normal."

Feeling the top of his head to double-check, Cae flashed her his signature smile and put his arm around her shoulders reassuringly. "Good, because I don't think we're going to be dealing with a lot of normal things for awhile..."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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"What can I do, what is my choice?
How can I live if I destroy?"


Laelynn Wyght

She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far away from everyone else as possible. Where she would go, she didn't know, nor did she really care. As long as it was away, nothing else mattered. But would she be able to get away? Would those people follow her?

...How many of them were left to follow her? Had she killed some? Did they escape?

It seemed, at least, that those taken prisoner had made it out mostly unharmed. The witch, however, was not with them. Buried under the windmill, no doubt. She would have been too injured to move. Had Laelynn not destroyed the place, maybe they could have gotten her help. But now... now she was probably crushed under the rubble. While she hadn't caused the entire thing to fall, it was unlikely the remaining support would be enough to hold it up. The woman's body wouldn't be recovered until the village got around to cleaning it up, along with whoever else had been trapped. They would probably all have been caught under there if Laelynn hadn't regained control of herself, if Devlin hadn't stopped her...

Had he even realized what was going on when he pulled her to him? Did anybody know it was she who created the earthquake? She guessed not, considering none of them were shunning her or saying anything about it. It was possible they believed it was a reaction from whatever spell the witch had cast. Had Devlin, then, simply seen her distress and not realized it was her who was bringing everything down upon them all? Whether he knew it or not, he had put his life in danger to help her. The only good thing to come out of it was that he survived- unlike the other person who had once tried to help her...

That's right. Another man. A stranger. He had tried to save her that time. He had taken a knife for her. He would have survived, too, if she hadn't lost control of her powers then...

Glancing up, Laelynn saw the others walking away. They had been discussing something, but what it was she hadn't heard. Devlin was hanging back, eyes full of concern as he waited for her to follow. Before he could speak, she walked forward, trailing behind the group. It wouldn't do to run away now. She feared Devlin might come after her- he seemed to care for whatever reason- and if any of those cult members had made it out, they would surely be seeking revenge. For now her best course of action seemed to be to remain with the group until they got out of Kirlsa. As long as she kept her distance, everything would hopefully be alright.

Laelynn kept her eyes cast down as she trailed behind the others. She could hear concerned whispers as they made their way to the docks. What would people think if they knew it was her who had caused such destruction to their windmill?

Worthless.

Guilty.

Monster.

She could almost hear them calling her names as she passed, their stares boring down on her, crushing her from every angle, waiting for her to explode from the pressure.

Laelynn clenched her fists tighter (how long had they been clenched?), digging her fingernails into her palms in attempt to bring herself back to reality. Nobody was saying anything about her. They weren't focusing their gazes on her. They didn't know.

And they never would know.

After what felt like an eternity but was, in reality, only a few minutes, they had reached the docks. She glanced up as Cae brought their attention to his boat. It was certainly bigger than what one would normally call a boat, but she didn't care to question it. She filed on after the others, glancing around for some small refuge she could hide away in until she could calm down and gain better control over her thoughts. Eventually she found a small room near one end of the ship. She settled down into the corner. Knees brought up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, head rested behind her knees, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wished she'd had music with her. That always helped her calm down. Unfortunately, all her things had been left behind in the Mayor's house, and a ship wasn't exactly the kind of place to find a record player. She began playing one of her favorite songs in her head- it would be better than nothing.

'I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away'


Rock was a fairly new genre of music- many found it too angry, rebellious and even violent. Laelynn, ironically, found it soothing. It helped her forget about everything else and focus her emotions into the music until she could better deal with whatever it was that was causing her stress.

'I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away'


Focusing on the lyrics and instruments playing in her mind, she gradually began to calm herself, forcing the fear and guilt threatening to overtake her back down into something more manageable. Maybe then she would be able to start learning about all the strangers she had just gotten on a ship with. Maybe then, she could face Devlin.
"What is my destiny?
Where is the reason to exist?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Hans Amsel


click, clack, click, clack...

With each step, Hans' pinheels echoed on the metal plank leading up to the large steam ship. The cool night air blew over his face as he tucked a strand of golden hair behind his ear. The sun would be rising before too long.

Too long.

They were taking way too long. The scarred, dog-eared man had taken the girl somewhere below deck. The rest of the tired, confused crew stood around in an awkward silence, still attempting to make sense of the events that had transpired tonight. After a few moments of eternity, Hans found his patience wearing thin. Eyes narrowed in irritation, he stepped before the handsome man who had promised them all safety.

"Pardon me, sir." Hans' lips curled into a smile, though his emerald eyes were cold and accusing.

"You had promised something about leading us all to a safe location, yes? I'm going to see about getting this hunk of scrap moving. I suggest you start navigating...unless you'd like those hooded ruffians to return and take us all hostage again."

He strode up to the man, their faces mere inches apart.

"You look as though you've enjoyed a good night's rest. But I can assure you, those cultists are far from good hosts. I'd simply hate for you to endure what I have endured tonight."

Hans primly brushed a cloud of dirt and sawdust from his skirts before turning his back on the silver haired man.

'Now where in the hell did our so-called Captain go?'

He ventured below deck, stepping down a rickety set of wooden stairs into the belly of the ship. His nose wrinkled at the musty aroma that permeated the room. A thin layer of dust blanketed the floor and various crates of cargo. A closer look revealed most of them to be empty, and a few even contained bits of rotted fruit and vegetables. As Hans followed the man's footprints in the dusty floor, he found himself wondering if this truly even was his ship.

'Whatever. If it wasn't before, it is now. Far be it from me to be picky.'

The footprints led to a small room for lodging. There stood the scarred man, his animal ears seemed to have vanished...or were they ever there to begin with?

'I could have sworn I saw them...'

Sitting upright on one of the beds, the frail looking girl appeared alert. Tired, but alert. But that was to be expected. It appeared the two of them had been sharing a tender moment together.

'Whatever, don't care.'

"Uh, hello?" Hans' voice broke the silence. He held his hands out in a shrugging gesture.

"I hate to break up your little knight in shining armor act. Really, I do. Buuuut...do we...want to get this ship moving? Those hooded bastards could be upon us any minute and I'd really enjoy getting the hell out of here. This doesn't look like the engine room to me but...this isn't my ship now, is it?"

Hans ended his venomous outburst with a slight cock of his head and the sassiest smile in all Ter'Ciel.