A New Story (open RP)

[Kionae]

After several moment's hesitation, Kionae reached for the glass in front of her. Her hand trembled as she picked it up, sloshing some of the liquid over the rim, but she managed a sip, wincing at the horrid taste. She quickly set it down and nudged it away from her.

Her eyes flickered over toward the woman across the room, who stood, blade drawn and crouched as it to attack at a moment's notice, beside a table spread with a small meal. The woman's glare was unsettling, and Kionae looked back at the man. She supposed that they had brought her here... but her memory was fuzzy. And her head ached. She could recall speaking to the woman, and vaguely remembered the man arriving at the town gates as well, but she had been frightened... not thinking entirely straight at the time. She had wanted to get away from Den'iith before those things came back. She shuddered violently and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment at the thought.

"They came... and they killed everyone," she said at last, letting her hair fall in a curtain over her face as she stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. She glanced up at their faces momentarily, seeing both now waiting expectantly.

"I... I don't know what they were," she continued, sniffling, "They were... monsters, or... or demons. Bigger than wagon horses, with claws and teeth and horrible rough skin and big yellow eyes! They came a little before the storm began, out of the forest. And Father and Adin... they went away with a lot of other men. When the monsters came, Mama told me to run. I... I meant to hide in the cellar, but I could hear her screaming! I looked back and I saw them carrying her away, so I ran and locked myself in the house... But one of them saw me, and it tried to break down the door, so I hid inside the pantry behind the onions and it went away after awhile."

She paused to catch her breath and wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Are... are they gone now?" she asked in a frightened voice, "Do you think they'll come back?"

[Vothus]

Vothus raised an eyebrow. His intellectual curiosity was well and truly raised, but he had absolutely no idea what could be gleaned from the creature if it was dangerous even to approach. Perhaps one of the men following him would kill the beast. Then he could study it’s methods of attack and defense, find out what sort of food it had recently eaten, whether this was all hunger-driven or some sort of military attack…

We don’t have time for this! The witch is probably getting away! Let’s go already!

The voice startled him from his consideration of the bondaged beast. Vothus bit his lower lip briefly as he considered his options, weighing the beast immediately in front of him with the prospect of a witch further down the path. Chances were this beast was not magical at all…just dangerous. He released the pressure on his lip, and nodded curtly. Whether the nod was for the benefit of those around him or merely in answer to the questions in his own head was unclear.

Perhaps, Ijoli, we would take you up on your offer of assistance.

The young man peered into the smokey haze that had once been a town, and could make out only a few standing structures. As Ijoli had said, there were few enough buildings left standing in Den’ilth. One stood larger than the rest. Cautiously, Vothus moved up the street. Even the small number of buildings remaining could take hours to search. Not to mention the fact that his newfound traveling companions hardly seemed the most patient of men.

But then he saw it. A sight to bring a smile to a worried youth’s face. With some confidence, he turned to those with him, and pointed towards the largest of a group of standing structures.

The tavern. They entered the tavern…

Of course, there was no way he could have seen them do this. But the fact that the rider’s horse stood whickering nervously as they approached the inn was perhaps as good an indication…

[Naetis]

Renwold stood in ruins, a few straggling survivors wailing into the evening sky, asking the gods and the spirits and the almighty forces why it was their people who had been slaughtered. Naetis passed them all by, cloak billowing in his wake, shrugging off the hand that reached out for him from beneath a pile of debris, beseeching his help. There were more important matters to attend to.

He came upon a boy-child, sobbing over the body of a woman, presumably its mother, and knealt beside the pair.

"She won't wake, you know," he said, and a tear-streaked face turned to look at him, eyes brimming, "But I can help you... I'll send you to be with her."

The boy's gaze was locked with his, and Naetis' eyes never left his, as a knife was deftly drawn from the folds of his cloak. Naetis smiled darkly as he raised his hand and cut, the warm wave of crimson that gushed suddenly from the child's throat washing over his blade and his hand. The boy's mouth opened in a silent scream, and he thrashed madly for just a moment before going still in Naetis' arms.

He took a vial from a deep pocket within his robes, and let the blood drain from the boy into the glass. There was, after all, no sense in letting such a useful substance go to waste. When the vial had been filled, he tossed the body aside and stood.

The Har'thyn were still nearby... lying in the forrest, gorging themselves on their victims from Renwold... and Naetis was still too wary of them to wander too close to them yet. But he was a patient man. He would learn about them. He would wait... wait and see where they went next.

[Ijoli]

Ijoli followed Vothus' gaze toward the tavern... and the horse that nosed about nearby. He hadn't noticed the horse or its rider enter the town... and had he bothered to glance over toward the tavern before these fellas showed up, he'd likely have thought it was just one that belonged to one of the townspeople... probably wandered off after the attack. But maybe Vothus was right... Either way, it couldn't hurt to check.

"Ol' Garris' tavern? Aye... looks like a bit 'o the place is still standin'... tha' might be a good place fer a fella ter hide... Never much cared fer the place meself... Lot 'o miscrients 'round there. Bad lot, most 'o 'em," he said. And it was true. 'Twas a rough crowd that frequented that tavern. In his younger days, Ijoli probably would have been one of them... though he did have to admit, Garris made a fine bit of home brew that the other pubs just could rival. It was the one thing that drew Ijoli in every now and them... Of course, he usually left lighter a good bit of gold, and not all of it going toward his bill. More than once he'd had his purse nicked in there.

"It's gettin' on toward dark, fellas... Best if we find a bit 'o shelter ourselves. The tavern'll do well as anythin', I 'spose, and like as not the one ye be lookin' fer'll be in 'ere, too. Like I said, I'm glad ter help yer with a search, but I don' recommend us bein' out in the open if those bloody things come back tonight."