Aeron Tanner's Story

Skolr was the first to awaken in a grumpy mood as his eyes fluttered open revealing that he was not inside his camp but at a table of food and with others present who did not belong to his raiding party nor did they seem familiar at all. By their clothes it would seem that they had to be none other than the inhabitants of the town itself. A grimace quickly took hold of his features as he let out a bellowing war cry and stood abruptly from his seat.

"What is this!?" The barbarian shouted as he franticly now began to look around realizing that he stood in a gazebo inside a garden belonging to some impetuous fop. Quickly the barbarian simply took up his hammer which sat next to his seat only to then look upon the other guests present. All of which seemed rather young but could possibly hold their own if need be.

Aeron was careful- paranoid even. It had been part of her behaviour for so long that it had seeped into the cracks of her soul and become a fundamental part of who, and what, she was... and while this might not have endeared her at social events, or made her the easiest to befriend, it nevertheless kept her alive, and free.

Until today. How it had happened, she wasn't sure. It wasn't that she was involved in some clandestine activities which had brought her to notice... no, for a change her employment, such as it was, was legitimate. It had been a series of serendipitous meetings, and one awkward mistake on the part of a recruiter, which had left her climbing chimneys with a bunch of streetrats half her age... so when she'd found the expensive letter left with her pack after climbing her way free, she'd assumed it was a mistake, a prank, of some magpie's joke.

There was certainly no way it was legitimate. Why would anyone titled want to speak with her. So she'd ignored it, and gone about her life...

And then there were hands in the dark, reaching, grabbing, snatching...

Aeron awoke with a start and a sharp breath, her eyes widening even as a roar make her jerk her head around to stare at the seemingly battle-mad man sat two seats down from her. In a moment her heart skitters from an unconscious lull into a panicked staccato, her hands shifting to find the two knives pressed flat against her back. She wouldn't strike first... but then it looks like she might not have to, and she regards the barbarian with barely concealed fear, wrapped around a steely core of determination. Whatever his problem was- she surely wasn't willing to die for it.

Bastion was awoken -quite rudely he might add- by some sort of screaming ruffian who apparently thought fur was "in" this season. Bastion didn't even bother to move his head from the large book it was resting on. He was vaguely aware that he had been sleeping propped up in a chair at a table with a tome he had grabbed resting as a sort of pillow on his cheek. He was glad to have the book with him, after all he had disregarded the Baron's letter immediately when it had found it's way to his front door. He hadn't realised that attendance wasn't optional until the moment whatever it was that had come for him did. Bastion had in that moment thought of panicking, then deciding it was far to much trouble picked up the most recent hardback he had acquired and clung to it as he was dragged off in what he supposed was a troublesome manner. Deciding it was then time to panic, Bastion fainted almost immediately and now found himself groggily staring at some gigantor.

Having panicked far too much in the last 24 hours the young man sat up, opened his book and grabbed a piece of sweet looking bread that was withing his reach. Barely looking up he asked briefly "Could someone pass me the butter?" before looking back down at the pages in front of him. Sure it wasn't home, but a garden of corruption was just as good a place to read as any.

It was his squires that informed him of the letter. Delivered to the door of his estate house at first light. Such dedication intrigued Betan. He decided, as the next in line to become the lord of the east, he seemed it only fit to gain some allies while still young. At the sign of first light, he set off. It took him approximately six hours to reach the large mansion. He tied his horse to what seemed like a stables outside of the estate. He walked in, cloaked in his armour, his blue scarf securely around his neck.

Out of the dark, the gates banged shut behind him. Causing the knight to turn around with almost inhuman speed. He ran to the gates, and set aflame to them. Nothing happened. He kicked it, cut it with his blade. Nothing happened in the slightest. He tuned his flames down and left, letting them naturally extinguish themselves. Betan bit his lip till it bled. he took a breath and listened. The sound of a sharp orchestra and a buzzing. "Tch, there's no way around this is there. I should have never listened to those god awful squires!" He groaned in annoyance. He began to walk, noting anything noticeable. Rose thorns... Nettles... No ordinary foliage. It was all malarkey. He took a breath as the grand doors opened for the annoyed, and currently venomous, knight. He strolled in, his hands on his waist. No one was behind the doors when they slammed behind him. He smirked and placed his left hand on the hilt of his sword. He scanned the people sitting at the table. "I thought he would have better standards. A barbarian, pauper, and a.. philosopher? I don't know.. Now, does anyone here know why in the seven hells we are here?" He spoke, his normal venom laced in his misleading voice.

He took a seat, closest to the 'philosopher', the metal clanging on the table. "I asked you all a question." He grabbed the book from the persons hands and held it behind him, teasing him out of boredom.

The barbarian might be brazen and battle hardened but with age came a sense of knowing and taking in all things. He hadn't lived this long by simple luck and obviously being stronger than those who he'd pillaged and maimed. The girl reflexively winced at his cry but she seemed to reach or check for something that was on her person whilst the robed one seemingly appeared the most out of place and simply found compliance with his situation. It was only when the armored knight seemed to come into play did Skolr glare at the man in particular.

"Ancestors above! Keep your damned witches faith to yourself you sop. Your Hells matter not here as this is some kind of bewitchment!" The Barbarian noted the knights words and simply hefted his massive hammer up onto his left shoulder. "I was asleep and awoke here in this Garden. I find a table of strangers and none are my house or blood. Yet you walk up to this table of pleasantries and deem yourself ignorant of the goings on?!" Skolr placed his free hand upon the hilt of a dagger which dangled from his belt whilst he glared at the knight. "Girl do you have any wits about you? Don't let the damned robe touch any of this food. Damned if this fop here poisoned us."

Aeron's eyes twitch from the barbarian, to the scholar, to the knight in quick succession, but always return to the greatest threat: Skolr. Its an edge of wariness that doesn't fade even as the barbarian lifts his hammer away from the readied position, yet despite her pale features and swift gaze, she doesn't immediately jump to obey his wishes. "I'm no master of his, nor servant of yours. A grown man does as he wishes."

She does not add that any reaction to the food would at least let them know if it was poisoned- something that was far from guaranteed. Aeron had met many aristocrats in her life... at least, she had observed many of their kind closely, whether they were aware of her or not was another matter... and she had noted the strange preoccupation with holding to some unwritten code of behaviour amongst them. They would torture, and murder, and pillage, and rape... but to invite guests formally only to poison them? That, she suspected, just wasn't 'done' if you were one of these fancy types... After all, they'd barely acknowledge someone who failed to provide appropriate silverware- what would they do to a murderer? Her stomach growled as though in primal agreement, and she casts her eyes over the plethora of meats and pastries and other delights before her. Gods and demons, she hoped that it wasn't poisoned. She was so hungry.

Nevertheless, she realises that the barbarian had rattled on after her attention had waned, and reviewing what she'd heard back she blinks in surprise and glances to the late-comer. "He seems to believe you're our host. But," and she glances back to the barbarian then "I don't think someone who sets up something like this, writes fancy cards and all, then sends his shadow... things... to steal us away, is just going to walk in and not announce himself. Seems like someone who wants to make an entrance. Wants an audience." Thin shoulders rise and fall within the layers of clothing then, her lips twisting into some bitter semblance of a smile. "Whole bunches of the post folk are like that. All about the show."

Betan picked up a piece of.... something with his gloved hand, and burned it, all that came was grey ashes, "It had no residue. This food is not poisoned. Eat as you like. If it was poisoned, I would have smelt it, or it would have come out in the residue, my fine man..." He picked up the ashes and let them fall through the gaps in his fingers. "And it is not a 'witches' faith' as you so put it. I do hope youwould think before you speak. Do you even know the names of anyone here?" He smirked, eyes harsh like a snakes'. He put the robed guy's book down on the table, marking where it was left of at. Betan stood up, "Though, you are right in one way. This is a bewitchment, my flames did nothing to the gate, which I would like to inform you is currently locked and is impossible to open. Also, the walls are covered in thorns. So unless we want bleed to death, there is no possible current escape. Also, you was wise to inform them that there was a chance... What was that?" Some form of liquid had dripped onto Betan's head, it was a crimson colour. He pulled a glove off with his teeth, and felt it, "...Blood...I think..." He muttered, moving the sticky substance in his fingers. He wiped it off his head and moved to stand, clearly being discomforted, but no other droplets fell. He looked the barbarian dead in the eye with a questioning look.

Something was wrong with his place....

"Pauper,or what ever your name is, I believe you are right. "

The robed one seemed quiet but it mattered not as Skolr kept his attention upon the knight only allowing his rage to grow ever so slowly and at a steady pace. What could this man know? The barbarian was about to offer his retort only to come short of saying anything as the knight began to inspect his mouth only to find what appeared to be blood. It was only when the knight spoke once more did he turn his attention back to the girl.

"You have a knack for these things? Men and women hiding behind finery is not something I can claim to have experience with...." He began to trail off slightly as he adjusted his hammer upon his shoulder.

Bastion blinked as he was now looking at a rather fine looking table cloth rather than pages of a book. He glanced at the man who was now sitting down with his book behind his back. Bastion sighed heavily and audibly. He knew the look of such men, he'd seen it in mercenaries that had past through his town, they were always trying to prove how much powerful they were by exhibiting useless aggressive behaviors. It seemed like too much trouble to try and grab the book, but knowing the sword users in the past the mercenary who soon grow bored of a book. After all, it wasn't covered in gold and he doubted the aggressor had the ability to read let alone understand the tome.

His eyes then moved to his sweet bread that was still butterless. Though upon hearing it might be poison Bastion simply wondered if it would change the flavor of the bread. Well, eating it without butter would be more of crime. Shame, maybe he'd just have to eat something else. Thoroughly ignoring the conversation taking place around him Bastion spied a rather curious looking pastries that he made a small gesture to grab it however he was too late as the rowdy man who had taken his book grabbed the pastry first. Bastion could only look in shock, not only had the man taken his delicious treat but he hadn't even the decency to eat it. He just burned it in front of them. Pouting, Bastion grumpily crossed his arms.

"It had no residue. This food is not poisoned. Eat as you like. If it was poisoned, I would have smelt it, or it would have come out in the residue"

Bastion rolled his eyes as he lent over towards the singular female and in an almost whisper, "Wrong, not all poison's have a smell or a residue, in fact, I can name 4 off them top of my head which would actually make a cake much tastier before killing you" he explained, not that the girl had asked, but she seemed the only slightly rational person here and Bastion was now bored. "I agree with you though, it seems silly to drag us all here uncomfortably to then only kill us with food. Every rich person I've ever seen has demanded to be listened to and obeyed. Can't really do that if we go permanently deaf due to deadness on a jammy tart".

Bastion lazily scratched his head as he picked up a fluffy looking biscuit and put it in his mouth. "Bastion Trent" he said with a full mouth to no one in particular as he grabbed a jug that seemed to be filled with a flavored tea to wash down the biscuit.

Betan grimised at the sight of speaking with a full mouth, but beared it. His narrowed eyes looked at the man, who gave his name as Bastion Trent. "Well, it would be impolite for me to not introduce myself. I am Sir Betan Alwingson, the deiciever. And next in line to become the lord of the east." He smirked as he bowed with proper etiquette. He stood straight, "Barbarian, why are you looking at me with such... Viscious eyes? I see no way that I have harmed you."

Betan turned around with inhuman speed. The sound of an orchestra could be heard from the other room. His sapphire eyes sharpened, to an extent that his pupils seemed to form slits. "What in the seen hells is going on in this place." He muttered from under his breath. He put his arms behind his back and began to walk to the door, it stopped as he took two steps. The sixteen year old bit his lip and rejoined the table. He took a breath and sat down, pulling out a scroll from his scabbard, He groaned, "I guess the rumor was true after all." The scroll was a simple one, addressed to him by the lord of the north, who was the only one to warn him about this place. "We'd better get moving, according to the rumor, twenty or so years ago, a group of civilians, nobles, knights and even some royalty went missing after recieving a letter fro ma man calling himself 'the baron'. Of course, up until now, it was thought to be a whole piece of malarkey. However, whoever this man is, has some power of his own." He took a breath and placed the scroll back in his scabbard.

Aeron listened. It was a talent many were born with and trained in as infants- for how else did one learn to be even a semi-functioning member of their society- but often seemed to allow to atrophy in adulthood... and what she hears is clear enough: the blustering of young men already vying for position. Whether it was with axe, with title or with knowledge, they seemed more interested in one upping one another than they were in actually paying attention to what was going on around them.

She, however, was not. It was listening that allowed her to find some common agreement between Bastion and Betan, and her quick hands begin the process of selecting small handfuls of less perishable food into the medium-sized pouch at her belt. Cheese, salted meat, apples, bread rolls- each of these found a place, a few finding her mouth instead of the pouch along the way... and only when the pouch is full does she begin to load her plate- choosing now those foods that would not carry well... after all, if the three of them were in agreement, then she might as well assume that this food, at least, was safe to consume.

Even as Aeron's hands are busy loading food onto her plate and into her possession, her eyes are scanning- not just the men who have arrived in her company, but the room they had so suddenly found themselves in. If this was a game of some kind, then why stage them here? What was to be gained by it?

Her thoughts are interrupted somewhat by Betan's announcement that had 'better get moving' and she frowns openly then. "Moving? You have no idea where we are, who we are, why we might be here- and you've just said the gate is locked and the walls will bleed us faster than we can climb them. Where do you think we've to go?" She glances at the others then, her mismatched green-blue eyes taking in each of them. "We're mice. We're toys. Even the weird nobility don't steal people 'cause they're lonely... So this is bad. Real bad. And running blind'll make us dead." Thin shoulders rise and fall then, as she ends her statement by filling her mouth with delicious meats. These titled and entitled folks- didn't they know that the only way for the mice to survive when the cat was on them was to work together? They were as little people in this. They needed to work together or...

She shivered, the unknown filling her with dread even as she remembers those nightmare creatures reaching out to snatch her away. Or something terrible would happen. She was sure of it.

"Unlike you lot, I came here willingly, so I do know where we are. Also, all estate houses were built from a similar foundation. I should be able to navigate my way around it. Currently we are in the grand hall, one of the largest rooms, up those stairs, is the first floor and the start of the bedrooms, and study. The room that the noise seems to be occurring from must therefore be the dining hall, the baron had laid us a table here, instead of in the proper room for a reason." His eyes darted around. "And frankly the reasoning probably has something to do with the gates closing on us. The baron wants us to work together it seems. So stop being so negative. " He smirked and looked at the girl. "We don't even know your name. So, how can we listen to a nameless pauper?" He asked. Upon looking around, Betan saw nothing out of the ordinary. The room connected to three doors and a grand staircase. The music began playing again?, but to a chorus of a waltz. " Such good music for our predicumant, don't you think? We need to work faster." He dmiled and stood up over all eating nothing. The sixteen year old, covered in armour, sighed and took of his scarf, passing it to the girl, "we need to go outside, I saw a few things that might benefit going through. But it rather cold out there..." He looked the girl in the eye, he was set, no cold could get into him, but he was more worried about the girl, being the gentleman he is.

"Even the nameless have a point." Skolr pointed out as he now begrudgingly took up an apple and looked it over. The barbarian looked at Bastion and then to the young girl only to pocket the apple into a small pouch and then sit back down and partake in the meal. Setting his massive hammer upon the ground by hi seat he knew that they would need his strength if they would survive. "We awoke within a Gazebo outside within the gardens whilst the sound of music played within this so called house. You speak of rumors about this place and now we all are present. If this is a game I'm not amused."

The barbarian took up a large loaf of bread only to rip it apart and devour half of it with a bottle of what appeared to be mead. It was only when he wiped his mouth off with his arm did he begin to take in a deep breath. "I'm Skolr Iron-Heart."

"Ah, may I ask if you come from the north or the west? And, I believe our captive will make this a game. Ah, now the music has changed: William tell overture, if I am correct." He looked Sklor in the eyes, A very mountainous name. He thought. "I'm just going to look around for a second. Feel free to join me, I'll be in the gardens." And with that, Betan walked to the large doors, kicking them open with little strength.

He walked outside, paying more attention to his surroundings. He walked amongst the left side of the building till he spotted an open window. Jumping up, he looked inside. A room full of books, but no door. He bit his lip firmly, climbing through. A small desk. It was like a minature study. He smirked, not suprised by the room, his estate had a similar one. He picked up three hard cover novels and lodged the window open with them. He looked around, nothing but books. He picked one up, reading the title out loud. " Black Beauty. All of these are children's books.... But they all come from the East... Strange...." He picked up a few books, cradling them in his chest. He climbed out of the window and fixed the positioning of the three novels in the window. He continued to walk forward till he came face to face with a Hedge maze. A stagnant smell coming from it. He jotted this fact down mentally and turned around, going back into the building. He came to the table and put the books down. "Whoever we're dealing with is quite fond in children books."

Aaron started walking. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know where he was going. Why would he had received a letter from some mystery man claiming to be the Baron? Was this a joke? It must be considering he didn't have enough value to be approached by someone like this. Aaron kept walking. He found himself staring at this small clearing outside of the city facing a stream of water. The night was peaceful. No clouds in the sky with an almost perfect crescent moon. With a soft breeze in the air, Aaron could feel himself becoming one with his surroundings as he took deep calming breaths.

Aaron then started back towards the inn he was staying at. Aaron wasn't too far away, and other than the letter it was a normal night. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. As Aaron got back to his room he felt rather different. Maybe this letter was a blessing. The sliver lining to his rather difficult upbringing. Suddenly Aaron felt a small sharp prick on his arm. What the hell!? He thought as he was faced with a dart on his skin. He turned to look around his room and shot up straight to see if anyone was in the room with him. Big mistake. His vision went blurry, and his head began to spin. Sitting back down on his bed, he saw what he could make a shadow in the corner by the door. As if it was waiting for him to get back. It wasn't long until he was out. Not knowing what was going to happen.

*****

Head throbbing. Body aching. Stiff everything. Aaron opened his eyes. Carefully analyzing his surroundings. His gaze met with what seemed like a wood plank. Naturally Aaron's first thought was that he was being buried alive. It didn't take long though to debunk that idea as he shifted a bit to look at his sides, he could see wooded feet from chairs. Lining all the way down. He'd come to the conclusion that he was under a table. Aaron prompted himself up into a sitting position. Being careful not to make too much noise as he noticed there where other people in the room. In the background he could tell there was feint music. A rather odd detail seeing as it was calming. Too eerie considering his current situation. Where am ? He though as he tried to listen to the people on the other side of the room. He could make out four voices. Two where definitely male and One was female. The fourth voice could go either way. Are they the ones responsible for this? he continued as he could barely make out what was being said. They spoke of food, and the probability of it being poisoned. Not really helping the situation. I think I better have a look to see if I can find a way out of here. Aaron made attempts to crawl to the other side of the table. He had managed to make it there until he heard a brazen noise coming from behind him. Shit Aaron thought as he turned around thinking he may have got caught. To his surprise, the noise wasn't about him. From what he could tell, the noise came from a different part of the room. Perhaps a different one at that. With his body still aching from his capture, he knew agility wasn't his friend right now. The other four figures didn't seem to notice him though. As if they themselves where preoccupied with the noise. Perhaps they weren't responsible for this. Perhaps they were in the same situation as him. So many questions. None of them being answered. I better find a way out of here. Staying here for much longer isn't helping me any. Aaron took a deep breath and prompted himself upwards onto the last chair at the end of the table. Slowly pulling himself up, he noticed three people in the room. None of them seem to notice Aaron at first. It wasn't until the fourth person came in the room. "Whoever we're dealing with is quite fond in children books." A strong looking man said as he came in. Naturally the man noticed Aaron right away.

As soon as he came to the table, Betan noticed the man come from underneath the table. The knight dragged him out fully harshly and held a flame the size of the his palm to the man's face. "Who in the seven hells are you, and why were you under the table." Betan glared daggers at the tanned man. He honestly didn't care what he looked like, only the reasoning. He held the cross guard of his sword with his left hand, putting his foot in the man's lap as to hold him down, with both of his hands occupied. He drew his sword, placing it upon the man's throat. The sixteen year old had a very serious look in his sapphire eyes. His blonde hair fell in front of his eyes. He bit his lip, "I asked you a question." The knight was stern. The metallic plates of his armour clanged upon each other as he moved.

It didn't take long for Aaron to become a target. Instantly, the blonde hair boy rushed towards Aaron and to his surprise, the boy managed to pick him up without much straight. He was definitely stronger than he appeared. His messy hair covering parts of his face. Noting the sudden anger in his voice. As he was held, the boy conjured fire out of his hand making a fist with it. So that's how it's going to be. Soon after his Aaron processed his question. "Who in the seven hells are you, and why are you under the table?!" It would appear the boy didn't know who he was. Eliminating the chances of them, or at least him, being his captures. Perhaps this is some sort of test Aaron had to figure out. Not realizing that Aaron hasn't answered the boys question, the boy further angered grabbed his sword and pinned it on Aaron's neck. Noticing the small details in his armor making noises as he moved. Now with an even more serious look, the boy spoke. "I asked you a question". At this point Aaron could tell that this boy wouldn't go down easy if there were to be a fight. However it was very obvious that this boy was rather brash. Rushing into a situation without much thought. Admirable. But very irresponsible. Aaron had to defend himself. Free himself from his grasp.

Aaron noticed a big window with some greenery on the other side. It appears Aaron may have a way out of this. Looking back at the boy, meeting his hard look Aaron answered. "You know kid, it's quite rude to attack someone without having a motive." After his words left his lips, Aaron channeled his ability. Having been in similar situations in the past, he wasn't a stranger to his current position. He used the plant life outside of the window bringing it forth, shattering the window into pieces. Aaron released a flurry of sharp, fast moving branches towards him and the boy. Avoiding both of them of course, as he only needs to free himself. Seeing an opportunity, Aaron was able to free himself from the boys grasp and get away. Aaron stood underneath a doorway now looking at the mess he'd been provoked to make. Taking a moment, Aaron didn't notice his surroundings fully. He was standing in a beautifully decorated dining area. The wood panels complemented the decor perfectly. Going back to the commotion, Aaron stared back at the strange group of people. "Now, as for who I am. All you need to know is I'm not here to harm any of you. In fact I was captured and brought here" He spoke eloquently. He saw some of the looks on a few of them and could tell that they shared a similar fate. Aaron shifted his focus to the boy that had threatened him moments ago. "I will say, my intentions weren't to hurt you. I hope you understand. I was simply defending myself. Aaron could tell this wasn't going to be easy. The current group standing in this room all shared something. Otherwise why would they be here. Having everyone cooperate will probably prove to be a challenge.

Betan sighed. Burning a way out of the foliage. He coughed and took six small tablets dry, wipping a bit of blood from the side of his mouth. He slumped down in a random chair and folded his arms. Hormones were a big problem for the adolescent, who had a mild conduct disorder. He hated being called a kid, when he was clearly taller than many adults in this day and age. He didn't care what the man said. He was called a deciever for a reason. His subconscious was screaming at him to mention this annoying stagnant smell of blood and the hedge maze, but Betan no longer felt the need to talk, or rather he couldn't. The pale boy was more bothered on focusing on trying to get his blood circulating his body again. 'Simply defending himself? Don't make me laugh, those weeds could have killed me. ' Betan thought. The pills he had taken started to take affect and his blood regauned its normal track.

He put his folded arms on the table and put his head into them. The annoyin smell of blood became more apparent as he lowered his head. He might as well have been alone, it didn't matter to him. He closed his eyes and tuned his hearing out, relying on his sense of smell. There was a lot of fresh blood in this room. From every corner it seemed. Something wasn't right.

Bastion was finally beginning to feel full. It had taken some great effort on his part, consuming several pastries and cheeses as well as what he imagined to be an entire trifle. A few tougher pieces like the cured meats had found their way into on of his many many pockets and gave an almost childish smile to Aeron when he spotting her doing the same. He also got quite excited when the bull-headed knight brought in some book, some of which he stashed evenly around his robes- children's books were a rarity where he came from and he did love to hear new stories. He started reading Black Beauty and so absorbed in the tale he barely noticed the presence of a new fellow captive. In fact, apart from the inconvenience of being dragged here against his will Bastion was having a fine old time. New books, good food and the great ability to conveniently distract himself that this quiet couldn't last very long. As he flipped through the pages of this wondrous short tale about a horse- an animal he'd only seen in pictures- he mused that this was possible the best party he'd ever been to.

"Whoever our would-be host is, it seems they play party to being fashionable late" he said to no-one in particular as he closed the hardback.