A New Story (open RP)

[Loric Raenlock]

"Uh... right..." Loric said, not really sure what else to say in response to the man's story. Where in the Nine Hells had these two come from? Good gods, first the bitch and now these two... Loric regained his composure and smiled. "Excellent, then! You can help me! It looks as if the witch went off in that direction." He motioned up the road toward Den'iith. "I assume we should start there."

He dreaded having to walk the rest of the way to the town, but the horse that pulled the wagon had run off long ago. Since it had been wrapped, his leg felt a tad better, though he was still slightly woozy. He would have to deal with it though. Once he got to the town, he'd have to hunt down the thieving bitch before he rested. At least that wouldn't be as difficult with these two buffoons helping him.

"Thank you for your help, gentlemen," he said before they started off. "Go ahead an keep that purse you found on the wagondriver as payment for your services." As if he would have gotten back anyway short of killing the two. With luck, he could look up Tortis's brother Tertil in Den'iith and, after telling him what happened, receive some compensation that way. With luck.

And with that, he began the short trek to the town.

[Raina Vissora]

((OOC: Sorry for the delay... been interviewing for work all week.))

Raina looked at the once more pro-offered hand. She didn't take it. Instead, she sneered and stood up, not sheathing her blade, but not advancing on the newcomer either. So he wanted to help? She mentally sighed, having to defeatedly admit that she wouldn't last long as she was... not if that brat she dropped back at the wagon decided to come after his little knife.

"You want to help me? Hn... Fine. Just don't expect me to be pleasent company." she ground out, not at all pleased, but even she had to be realistic. Den'iith was in ruins, she was injured and loosing more blood than she cared to admit, and this stranger was probably the only person for several miles who wouldn't try to kill her the moment she passed out... which unfortunately was a definite possibility given the way her head was beginning to spin.

Lightning flashed and thunder sounded, causing her to wince at the deafening roar. It was only then that she noticed yet another figure had approached.

"Gods, this day just keeps getting better and better..." she muttered, taking a defensive stance. Granted he seemed to be more interested in what was left of the town than in herself and Gabriel, but she wasn't planning on taking chances. She could kill this new stranger at a distance. She'd lost one throwing knife to the boy, but she still had her second. He wasn't even that far off. A simple target.

Or at least he would be if the damned ground would stop moving...

It took her a moment to realized that it was not so much the ground that was moving toward her, but that she was moving toward the ground. Rather quickly. She caught herself, just in time, grabbing hold of Gabriel for support. She wondered briefly, as her head began to clear slightly, if this day could possibly get any worse.

[Kionae]

She'd been too frightened to answer. The woman had threatened her, but Kionae simply couldn't find her voice. Now she lay shivering in the mud, watching as, first one man arrived at the gates, and then another. She wanted to run away... as far away as she possibly could. But she didn't have anywhere to go, except perhaps into the forest. And those... things... had gone into the forest. What if they were still nearby? They would find her... they would tear her apart as they had done to the others. Dear spirits, she didn't want to die! But was she really any safer with these strangers?

Suddenly, Kionae saw the woman stagger and almost fall.

Kionae blinked the rain out of her eyes, and wiped the sodden hair out of her face as she stood, and cautiously moved toward her. Was she hurt? Kionae herslef seemed to have been momentarily forgotten, and she took the opportunity to study the woman she been too afraid to even make eye contact with a moment ago. She and the two men had all come down the same road. They had come from the same direction as the creatures that had detroyed Den'iith, more or less... Perhaps they, too, were survivors of an attack. She found herself wondering, with no small amount of horror, just how many towns might have been attacked. Would they come back to finish what they'd started? Would they know that there were still people left alive in their wake?

Now she wanted to hide more than ever.

"Please... she said softly, snapping out of her revery as instinct took over, "Please, we can't stay here... I don't want to stay here! They might come back! What if they come back!"

She was crying, but no one would have been able to tell in heavy rainfall. She forgot her fear of the woman, overpowered by her fear of the possiblity that those creatures might return, and gripped the woman's arm, pleadingly.

Please don't let then get me! We have to hide! Please!" she cried, now trying unsuccessfully to pull both the woman and the man she'd been speaking to toward the ruins of Den'iith.

[Edward & Thomson]

OOC: This post is a bit gory, if that sort of thing offends you, you might not want to read it.

As the group started their walk they fell into silence. Of course Edward was the friendly sort (unless he thought you were a witch) so he certainly wouldn't let such an awkward silence last long.
"Hey little buddy, wanna know how I lost my eye?" He continued without waiting for a response. "Its a funny story really."
Thomson sighed, he wasn't particularly fond of the story, and he certainly didn't think it was funny.
"You see, it all started when my brother here, got himself into a little bit of gambling debt. Well as you might imagine, witch hunting is the most highly paying profession, so we weren't really able to come up with the money, and that did please the fellows to whom it was owed. So the two of them kidnapped us one night, and decided that someone how by torturing us we might be able to come up with the money. Anyway, they started on me, kicking me, punching me, hitting me with stuff. Well as you've already seen, that doesn't work to well, so they moved onto something a bit more severe. The two of them pinned me down and one took a knife and gouged my eye out." The bit man chucked a bit before he continued, "Well unsurprisingly, I was quite upset, I liked that eye. So I pushed them off of me, and grabbed on by the back of the head... I slammed him face first into the wall so hard that his head cracked open like a melon. Now the other one, the one that had take my eye out, ran at me with a sword, but he was scared out of his wits, so his swing wasn't too good and I dodged it, and dropped him to the ground with a good ol' punch to the throat. Then, pinning him to the ground I popped both his eyes out like grapes with my thumbs."
Edward burst out into laughter, while his brother simply rubbed his temples as if he had a headache.

By the time the story was through, the city of their destination was in sight.

[Loric Raenlock]

What in the gods-be-damned Nine Hells is wrong with this man? Loric thought, trying desperate to keep the incredulous look off his face. Good gods, but he was insane! That story was about as funny as a gopher getting its head chopped off. But then, this Edward would probably have found that hilaroius as well. Loric took a deep breath and managed a smile for the man. Hopefully he would find his dagger soon, and then he could leave these two - especially Edward - far behind and never look back.

At the very least, the man's story had passed the time quicker as they walked to Den'iith. Having wrapped his wounds, Loric was at least strong enough to walk on his own, though once he got the chance he would have to tend to them a bit better. But he couldn't do that until he got his dagger back. And killed the bitch who stole it, of course.

Loric was just about to comment on how Den'iith should be just ahead when the city came in sight. Or at least, what was left of the city. The acrid smell of smoke hung heavy in the air, and the plumes Loric had seen before didn't belong just to one house, but the entire town. Barely a single building could be seen still standing, and the ground was littered with ash. The bitter chill in the air mixed with the drizzle the rain had become only deepened the dark feeling in the pit of Loric's stomach.

Several paces further up the road Loric could make out four figures. One seemed to urgently be pulling two others toward the Den'iith ruins. Squinting, Loric could almost make out their faces. What was definite was that there were two women and two men. No doubt, one of those women was the bitch. With luck, it was the one hanging on to one of the men.

With a grunt for his wounds, Loric quickened his pace. "The witch is there!" he hissed to Edward and Thomson. "Be ready for whatever trickery she might perform." He unsheathed his dagger and plunged forward. "I'd stake my mother's life she's responsible for what happened to this pitiful town." Of course, his mother was already dead, so the fact that the oath was a lie didn't make much difference. First he'd get his dagger back. Then he - or one of those other two - would slaughter the whore where she stood. After that, he'd have to see about what happened to this town. And he had a feeling that was going to put him in the most dangerous position of all.

[GabrielThief]

Gabriel quickly twisted his head around, and through the pouring rain saw the three men from the cart, and he began to worry. The assassin seemed too injured to be able to walk on her own, and the girl was panicking, which made her almost as bad. Gabriel made a quick decision and unsheathed the heavy dagger at his waist, then used the hilt to knock the girl unconcious. He put her over the front of his horse, then mounted himself, pulling the female assassin up behind him.

Hold on.

Kicking his horse into a gallop, Gabriel moved through the streets of the town quickly, looking for the tavern. The owner had been a friend of his, and Gabriel knew about the entrance to his secret room behind the bar. The room, was extremely defensible and contained weapons, food, water, and medical supplies, as well as beds. Once inside Gabriel would be able to deactivate the mechanism that opened the door and they would have plenty of time to rest and regain their strength.

Pulling his horse to a stop in front of the tavern, Gabriel hopped down, helped the assassin down, then put the girl over his right shoulder to carry her. Supporting the assassin with his left arm, Gabriel moved them through the tavern door, which had been destroyed in the attack on the town. Once he had moved them behind the bar, Gabriel pulled on a specific bottle on the shelf which caused a section of floor to slide away and reveal a hidden staircase. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Gabriel put the girl down on the floor and hit the release that closed the trap door, then hit another switch that caused the door to lock from the inside so that no one could get in, even if they found the right bottle.

Gabriel lit a few torches, illuminating the room. It was large, with four beds, they weren't too soft, but soft enough to be comfortable. There were shelves all around the room, with stored food, water and medical supplies, and one wall was dedicated to displaying a wide assortment of weapons. Gabriel help the assassin to one of the beds, allowing her to sit, then went back and picked up the girl, laying her down gently on another bed.

He gathered up some medical supplies from a few of the shelves, then pulled a chair up to the edge of the bed where the assassin was sitting, sat down, and prepard to tend her wounds.

So, I've told you that I'm Gabriel Knight. What's your name?

[Raina Vissora]

It was all she could manage to keep lunch firmly in her stomach... clinging to the one named Gabriel was almost out of the question, but somehow she fought through the dizziness that had hit her once again without warning. Once her head stopped spinning... or at least slowed a bit... she dared a glance behind her. Her own mount had taken his cue to exit and launched itself full tilt into the forest. The gelding knew enough to stay nearby... though he would not be seen again until Raina called for him.

It took her groggy mind a moment to realize just where they were when they suddenly stopped. The inn? Then this Gabriel must know...

Yes, indeed, he knew of the room. She's spent countless hours here, resting, hiding... recouperating on occasion.

"So, I've told you that I'm Gabriel Knight. What's your name?"

Seated, the blood loss and the pain were not so dibilitating. She could think clearly now that she didn't have to worry about keeping herself upright... With luck, she would be in relatively decent shape once she got some rest.

"Hmm... So you are a friend who calls after the shadows settle," she replied. It was a phrase the innkeeper, Garris Thornwell, used as a pass code when receiving visitors such as herself. His meager staff had been instructed always to give their best hospitality to anyone naming themselves as such... and to deny their presence in the inn to any armed person or persons who inquired after them.

"Raina. Raina Vissora," she said after a moment's hesitation. If Garris had trusted Gabriel enough to give him access to this room... She almost laughed. She wasn't going to trust him based on Garris' opinion... but it did ease her somewhat, given that her injuries weren't going to allow her to do much of anything until they were treated and she'd had time to rest. If nothing else, Gabriel probably wouldn't slit her throat the first chance he got... the second chance, however...

"Hn... I suppose you're as clueless as I as to what befell Den'iith and it's inhabitants..." she said, damnably doing her best to ignore the biting sting of the antiseptic that was being poured haphazardly over the deep knife wound on her thigh, and the throbbing of her shoulder... she wouldn't be able to swing a sword for awhile with her left arm. Not that it mattered... she was better with her right anyway. Her leg would be fine, if a bit stiff, once it was bound properly. She glanced over at the girl, still unconscious on another bed. They'd probably have to wait for her to wake up to get any kind of answers.

[Vothus]

Newcomers approaching raised Vothus from his appraisal of the shattered town. It seemed to cause far more consternation amongst the three strangers at the gate though. Before the newcomers could reach them, the man had ridden frantically off, with both women in tow. Given that he had struck one of the women and physically hauled the other astride the horse, it was pretty clear it was not a predetermined plan.

Vothus frowned in some puzzlement. It was not an ideal situation, he had to admit. Here he was, becoming steadily soaked to the bone, in a strange town, which had obviously suffered some sort of attack or catastrophe quite recently. The only people he found out of doors in said town were now riding steadily into the distance, with violence being the preferred technique of the rider. At the same time, a further three figures were approaching, and would be upon him before he could leave the streets…

Vothus turned to find that, indeed, the newcomers WERE upon him, no more than a few metres away. He did not seem to have their attention, and quietly he thought that a good thing. They did not look any more pleasant than the rider had been. Vothus had always prided himself on having a quick mind. It was, in many ways, his sole weapon in a sometimes cruel world. What was happening in Den’ilth was far beyond even his nimble mind, however. In truth, it simply didn’t make sense. A shattered town, a group of arguing people, a second group causing panic in the first. Even the most adroit story-tellers of his clan would have trouble making sense of it. It would be most sensible to simply move on, rain or no. But whilst Vothus regarded himself as intelligent, he would readily admit he was not always particularly sensible. And so, instead of leaving the town to it’s troubles, he stood, watching the three men enter.

A small voice in the back of his mind questioned how he thought he’d be able to work out what was going on without becoming a part of it, but Vothus ignored it. In his experience, one did not make demands of wild-eyed men brandishing knives. Instead, he waited to see what would happen.

[Malcolm Bainev]

OOC: Oops wrong alt, This is Edward & Thomson

"Well then what are we waiting for? We must stop her before she causes more havok."
With that the large man started off full tilt towards the town. Unfortunately the group was spotted, Edward was pretty difficult to miss after all, and those they persued bolted off into the town before they could be stopped. The odd trio stopped just inside the city, unsure which way the witch and her two companions had gone, there seemed to be no sign of them, surely some trick of witchly magic.

Edward looked around with a keen eye, seeing nothing and no one, until his gaze eventually fell upon the one other person there. Well he wasn't the only other person there... there were tons of people in the town, but he was the only other one alive, and that made him much more useful.
'You there! Where did the witch go?!"

[Vothus]

Vothus watched from within the confining cowl of his robe's hood as the odd trio approached him. After a swift perusal of the scene, one turned to him and spoke.

You there! Where did the witch go?

Some dark recess of Vothus' mind wondered if the shadowy hood managed to hide the stark surprise which was surely clear on his face. A witch!? For such a being to come so swiftly before him was a blessing indeed.

Two women there had been, he remembered. One had the look of a fighter, but the other...well, she had been rendered unconscious. Surely she was the witch, then? He had no idea what these strange men wanted with her, but a witch...She had looked young...perhaps that meant she was not a very powerful witch?

That settled it. Vothus wasn't really sure where the trio had fled to, but he had at least seen the general direction.

I...I can take you.

He was disgusted at the hesitancy in his own voice, took a deep breath and tried one more time.

Follow me. I'll take you.

Without waiting to see whether they did or not, Vothus began striding off in the general direction of the "witch".

[GabrielThief]

Raina, the name rang a bell, but Gabriel couldn't quite place it. He continued tending her wounds. He wasn't a qualified healer by any stretch of the imagination, but he knew well enough how to tend wounds. He finished with the bandages, then stood and put the chair back where it belonged at the crude wooden table in the centre of the room.

You're right, I have no idea what happened here. I just finished a job and was on my way here to pay back a debt. Garris helped me out when I was on the run a few years back, let me lie low here, didn't ask for anything in return. I still felt I owed him though, so I was going to repay him, I guess it's too late now.

Gabriel looked at the girl lying on the other bed.

I suppose we will have to wait for her to wake before we can get any answers. I didn't want to hit her but she was panicked and we needed to move.

Gabriel moved among the shelves and gathered up a loaf of bread, a few chunks of cheese, and some dry meat. He placed these on the table and then scrounged up a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. He sat down at the table and motioned to Raina, inviting her to join him.

[Naetis]

Truely, they were a sight to behold. Their magnificence lay in their absolute power. Renwold had fallen before it even realized the full nature of the threat. Great beasts had torn through what remained of its walls in a matter of moment, rending the crumbling masonry with hooked claws, and forcing their way into the town.

Renwold had once been a busy trading center, it's protective walls gleaming white in the sunlight, throngs of people bustling about buying and selling. Den'iith, however had taken much of the trade business away from Renwold shortly after it's founding, as the newer community had sprung up directly on the most frequented trading route in the realm. Renwold had been largely cut off, and no longer was it's square the busy marketplace of it's past. Now it was a town of farm hands, employed by the nobles who layed claim to the surrounding fields. Renwold was a poor place to live, but it's citizens managed to scrape by.

It disgusted Naetis to no end. The weak fools... They had forgone any dignity they might once have had the moment they lay down in the dirt before the feet of the fat "nobles", who governed from a distance, never even setting foot upon the land they claimed to own. The rich pig cared only about turning a profit, and the inhabitants of Renwold were happy to bow to them and grovel for whatever handouts they might be given by their lords.

Weak, pathetic fools. They hardly deserved to die by tooth and claw of creature as wonderous as the Har'thyn. But die they did, and by the hundreds.

Neatis, meanwhile, studies them from the safety of the shadows. It seemed they prefered to attack during the half light of dusk, rather than in the pitch darkness of night, for they had halted in their northward travel on the outskirts of the town and waited for the moment that the sky began to glow with the soft demise of day. Den'iith had been attacked many hours before dusk, though the storm clouds that obscured the sun had lent an air of impending night to the place. He wondered idly if they might also be inclined to attack at dawn, in that gentle half light that spread over the fields before the sun rose too high, or if perhaps they simply prefered to feed and then rest in the safety of the shadows of night while they were full and satiated.

The chorus of terror that filled the air, rising from Renwold in a musical cacophony of screams and cries brought a cruel smile to his face. He had seen what they had done in Den'iith, and though he was to far removed to see clearly the carnage, his mind conjured up the most delicious images.

He knew their strength... now he had to find their weakness. He had to fnd a manner in which he could seize them. A manner in which he could rule them.

[Kionae]

"No! No... get away!"

Great leathery wings knocked her aside, sending her flying backwards into the fence that enclosed the front garden. The meager barrier, which may have been insurmountable to all but the most determined and hungry chicken, collapsed as her weight fell upon it.

"Run, Kionae! For the love of the sacred spirits, run!"

She ran. Or rather she tried to run. Vines coiled about her ankles, hindering her, holding her back for what seemed like ages until she untangled herself. Behind her, she could hear her mother screaming and the horrible hissing roar of the beast that held her in it's claws, and Kionae didn't dare look back. She scrabbled through the garden, tripping only once more and righting herself just as quickly as she had fallen. All she could do was hide, now.

With what may have been something akin to a growl, another of the beast leapt from the roof of the neighboring house, landing directly in her path, and she skidded to a halt, quickly backpeddling. This one was wingless, but somehow, she doubted that would matter it it managed to capture her with those claws. It was brown in color, the color of rich eath, with the same leathery skin as the winged creature had, utterly hairless save for tufts of black on the backs of it's hands and around it's ankles. It's head was that of a monstrous lizard, with grotesque yellow eyes that shown eerily in the dull light of the threatening storm. It's whip-like tail lashed viciously back and forth as it advanced on her. It's claws, which sprouted from each of it's short, stubby fingers, and from each toe, were easily the length of her entire hand. The beast towered over her when it rose onto it's hind legs. Even on all fours, it would have outweighed a fully grown horse by several stone. A row of razor-like teeth were bared as it hissed it's attack and sprung forward.

She had mere moments to scramble beneath the wagon and shoot out the other side, streaking toward the house and throwing herself through the door. She barred the door, even though she knew it would never hold against the onslaught of that... thing. Even now, it was just outside, perhaps trying to decide what the best way to gain entrance way.

A sharp crack, and a set of claw pierce the wooden door. Kionae screamed.

*~*

And she continued screaming, even after she realized that she was lying alive and safe in a warm bed. Two pairs of eyes stared at her from across the room.

[Ijoli]

"Ha! Yer great boorish bastard! Not so tough now, eh?!" Ijoli cried, panting. He rested one booted foot on top of his prisoner. The great brown lump, wrapped quite securely in rope and canvas and just about anything else that had been lying about, gave an undoubtably furious sound that was something between a hiss and a growl. Sticky, purplish blood oozed from where it's right eye should have been, and the same sickly color stained the canvas that was draped over the creature's body. Ijoi gave it a hard kick in the gut and was rewarded with a sharp squeal.

"Bloody bastard," he muttered and sat down on the remains of a bench, removing a flask from his back pocket and taking a swig of the swill inside. Around him lay the bodies... or parts of the bodies, at any rate... of friends and neighbors. The air was chill, the storm having abated, and only a cold drizzle still lingered to make his weary bones ache.

Bad enough having one useless arm... He'd damn near last an eye to that damned things claws. His forehead was still bleeding rather heavily, but he ignored it as the liquid from the flask brought a brief surge of warmth to his chilled body.

"Bloody hell... I wonder if anyone else bleedin' lived through that?" he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He had see his share of battle, but nothing like this. And here he had one of the demonic creatures right in front of him, and still he didn't have the faintest idea what it might be.

"Bleedin' devils is what you 'n yer kind are... he said at last, figuring that desciption ought to cover it, and glaring at the bound beast. He suddenly became aware of another sound not far off... a sound that sounded a great deal like footsteps.

Ijoli stood, and turned. There, not far off, was a cloaked figure striding into the town like he bloody well owned the place.

"Oy! You!" he called, and then took notice of three other figures not too far behind the cloaked one, off near the town gates, Oy! You alive over there? Or are ye just some bloody spirits come ter haunt this town?!"

[Raina Vissora]

Raina sat accepted the invitation, and sat down at the table, albeit rather stiffly. She watched Gabriel with a suspicious eye as he laid out what food he could find in the room... Garris had always made sure there was something, even if it wasn't exactly a feast fit for royalty. Right now, though, she would be gratefull for whatever was provided. It was only now, with the more immediate dangers past and the only prospective threat under her close watch, that she realized how hungry she was.

"I wonder how a brat like her survived... Didn't notice much of anything else alive and kicking out there when we rode in," she commented as wine was poured. That was an understatement. The heavy rain has washed away perhaps the worst of the gore, but that didn't detract much from the torn corpses that littered the path to Garris' inn. Not to mention the various body parts that were conspiciously lacking a body. It was not raiding party that did this. No human raiding party at any rate. Even the ruins left in the wake of a goblin attack were not quite like this... barring the fact that goblins had a habit of taking the head of their victims and leaving the body for scavengers. Messy, to be sure, but not as gruesome as what had happened in Den'iith.

Which made her all the more curious as to what had done this. Whatever it was, she wanted to know about it, if only for the selfish reason that she did not want to end up having to face such an enemy herself. She was about to comment on this matter to Gabriel, but she was cut off by a loud, shrill, terrified scream from across the room, to which she responded by hastening to her feet and drawing her dagger.

The girl was sitting up in bed, eyes wild, screaming at the top of her voice. A last the sound abated, and Raina found herself staring at a rather bewildered looking young lady.

"Hn... I guess that means she's awake."

[Vothus]

Oy! You alive over there? Or are ye just some bloody spirits come ter haunt this town?!

It may have been the accent, since he had found the people in this region spoke a little strangely, but the voice had the sound of inebriation to Vothus. The fact that the man spoke so flippantly of spirits seemed to support the theory. Still, the simply fact was that Vothus was lost. He knew the women he was tracking had disappeared somewhere in this general direction, but in a strange chaos-riddled town he would need more than that to find them. A small voice in the back of his head kept warning him that the men following him were dangerous. Who knew how they would react if he failed to find the “witch”. His own speech was generally far more formal than the locals seemed to adopt. Stepping towards the man, he hoped he would be understood.

Hail, friend! Alive I am, though I seem to have become waylaid. Three people I seek, two women and a man. They would have been hard to miss, riding as they were on a single horse. Did you see them come this way?

Even as he completed the question, his eyes were drawn to the strangely packaged object at the man’s feet. It was large, indeed, and it was unclear to Vothus how the man could have shifted it here. It wriggled and another option sprang to mind. Whatever was contained within was perhaps alive, and had reached this place under it’s own steam.

He wondered whether to enquire after the package or not, but decided the stranger may be unpredictable if he was indeed drink-affected. Instead, Vothus raised a weak smile as he awaited the man’s answer.

[Loric Raenlock]

Den'iith was gone. What was left were bits of rubble, piles of muddy ash, and bodies. Plenty of bodies. And pieces of bodies too. It was enough to turn Loric's stomach so much he had to concentrate a good deal not to lose what little food he'd put in there earlier that day. There wasn't a single living soul left in the town. Loric could only imagine the chaos it had been. Now all was quiet but for the splash of rain on the earth.

A voice suddenly broke the silence. "Oy! You alive over there? Or are ye just some bloody spirits come ter haunt this town?"

Loric looked up to see a rather dirty man standing before them. Loric squinted to make out the man's face through the rain. A gash ran along his forehead - much bigger than Loric's own wound - though it didn't seem to be affecting the fellow much. One arm was slung across his chest, and by the bloodstains that coated him from top to bottom, it looked like the rest of him belonged in a sling too. Some kind of sack laid at his feet.

Before Loric could say anything, the stranger they followed shouted back, "Hail, friend! Alive I am, though I seem to have become waylaid. Three people I seek, two women and a man. They would have been hard to miss, riding as they were on a single horse. Did you see them come this way?" Who was this stranger they were blindly following anyway? For all he knew, this man was in league with the witch. Er, the whore who'd stolen his dagger. Gods, he was even starting to think of the woman himself as a witch, what with all the talk.

"They took something very important from me!" Loric added, coming to stand beside their guide. "And I fear they might have had something to do with..." He gestured around them. "...all this. Any help would be appreciated."

[Ijoli]

((OOC: If anyone has trouble translating my accent, tell me and I'll tone it down a bit.))

Ijoli shrugged his shoulder, which had the effect of shifting his lame left arm into a slightly more comfortable position, bound as it was to his chest, and took another long swig from his flask before replacing it in it's proper place at his belt. Judging by his speech... prim and proper, it was... all high and mighty... this fella was definitly not a local. Nor a regular on the trade route, for Ijoli often travelled with the merchants and knew them well. Ijoli grabbed his long staff from where he'd left it propped against a fence post, leaning upon it a bit more than was neccessary. The fight had taken a bit out of him, yes, but he knew better than to let a stranger see his strengths too early. A bit worse for wear he might be after the many battles he'd joined, but Ijoli was far from helpless.

"Alive, eh? So ye are, so ye are..." he said, strolling a bit closer, "A man astride a 'orse, an' two women, yer say? Sorry... haven'a seen 'em... Then again, I've been bloody busy meself, wit that sorry son o' a bastard over 'ere,"

He nodded over his shoulder at the squirming creature, bound beneath the canvas. He debated telling the stranger anymore, but finally decided that giving some information might get him some information in return. Perhaps the stanger had some idea where they came from... Or what they were... Or whether or not they might come back. He was about to say so, when the first of the stranger's companions came within earshot.

"They took something very important from me! And I fear they might have had something to do with... all this. Any help would be appreciated."

"Nah... No humans did all this. Was them beasties what did it, I'll tell yer... A whole great mass 'o 'em came swoopin' in 'ere and were gone just 'afore the storm broke. Tore the town ter shreds, they did... and most 'o the townsfolk right along wit the town. Fact is, I've not seen hide nor hair 'o anyone still livin' 'til yer showed up. I almost bought it meself, but I've always been a bloody lucky bastard. Got me wit its claw a fair strike that 'un yonder did, but didn't get me fatal like. Shouldn'a come into me favorite bar, that 'un. Had ta rough 'im up a might fer interuptin' me drinkin', yer see." he said grinning, and casually wiping away some of the blood that was still trickling down the side of his face.

"Oy... But if these people yer be lookin' for were wantin' shelter fer the night, there's not a whole lot 'o places left standin'... Shouldn'a be too hard to sniff 'em out. I'll even help yer if yer like... No reason fer me ter stay 'round 'ere, really. 'Cept maybe ter finish off that bleedin' piece 'o gutter trash I got tied up... 'less yer want ter take a look fer yerself first," he said, once more nodding to the creature.

[Taris]

Taris looked in horror at the deadly chaos all about him. What had been a calm quiet only second before had erupted into deafening screams as men, women, and children were slaughtered in their beds. What had once been a steady stream to the side of the road from the rain was now slick with blood. Bodies and pieces of entrails were cast out of windows with earsplitting crashes, and in every direction dark, menacing shapes massed.

Up until this point, Taris had lived his entire life with his family. There had been stories of the evil of the outside world then, but nothing had ever come close to this. This was beyond evil. This was... demonic.

Taris wanted to do nothing so much as run back home as fast as he could. He had journeyed the entire night at a quick pace, and the feeling he got through his bond was strengthening faster than he had imagined it would. What he thought would be a three-day journey was in reaily only going to be a day, perhaps a day and a half. He had just reached this city - Renwold, he thought he'd heard it called - a few moments ago. Yet, now he wanted to abandon his search. But something kept him here. He only hoped it was a duty to help, and not some sort of morbid curiousity.

A short ways up the road, his keen elven eyes saw a man running from a building, fleeing from one of the black shapes that materialized out of the night. Unslinging his bow, Taris knocked an arrow and pulled back on the string. He had never been a master with the bow, but his shots were usually true... He released the arrow. It found its mark.

Taris gasped at the creature's reaction. Instead of the growl or scream he expected to come from the beast, it only stopped for a moment and ripped the arrow out of its hide with its grisly jaws. A second later it was upon the man, ripping him apart in ways Taris didn't think possible. By the good graces, what were these things? The arrow had pierced it's hide!

Taris backed away a step. The creature turned from its kill and abruptly leaped toward him, wings spreading out to glide on the wind. Taris froze in his tracks, only able to stare into the thing's eyes as it approached. His quivering hand dropped his bow and went up to protect his face. And then the creature was standing in front of him, towering over him. "No..." he whispered, and closed his eyes.

A burst of air caught his breath and his eyes snapped open. The creature was gone. Taris blinked. He was still alive. Ahead, he saw the creature going after another victim, flying above and ready to strike. Taris forced his breathing to slow. Why hadn't it killed him...?

He pushed the wonder from his mind. He had cringed. He had been a coward. Had his father seen him, ready to die and giving up so easily, he would have all but disowned him. There were people being murdered, and he was doing nothing but quivering. A coward, he was. Taris's jaw clenched. He would not be a coward! He would not!

Taking one step forward, then another and another until he was running, he sped after the creature and its newest prey. He had to help... It was what he'd always been taught to do - help those who couldn't help themselves. It was the way of his clan. He could only hope his years of lessons would be of better use than the bow.

With his thoughts finally gathered, and without panic clouding his mind, Taris called on his birthright, on the birthright of all elves. Stopping just as the beast began to descend on the defenseless human, Taris brought up his hand and began moving through the air. Each quick stroke left a shimmering trail behind, and the last movement connected the end of the design with the beginning.

"Eith," Taris whispered, naming the rune, and cast it forth. Blinding light flared to life as the rune launched itself toward the demon. Just before the creature's talons reached the man's shoulder, the rune clashed with it, burying itself into the thing's arm and exploding in a flash.

This time the creature did scream, a raucous unearthly howl. Sparing a glance for the pieces of its body it was now missing, it turned on Taris again, the menace in its eyes tenfold. Crawling on the ground - it's left wing was now gone - it made its way halfway toward the elf... and then stopped, snorted, and started after the man again, who was now standing dumbfounded.

"Run!" Taris shouted at the man, and began weaving another rune in the air. But before it was finished, the creatures crumpled in a heap, unmoving. Taris breathed a sigh of relief. The injuries had been enough to kill it. Thank the good graces the things could at least die.

Abandoning his casting - every completed rune took more energy from him - he started off deeper into the city. Someone had to help these people. And it almost looked like he was the only one who could.

[Naetis]

Halfway through the town, they were... And at last Naetis' curiosity got the better of him. No longer was he content to merely sit and wait for the Har'thyn to finish their hunt... for a hunt was indeed the reason for the carnage. He had seen the winged beast carrying off several of the dead and dying, disappearing into the forests once more. They seemed, however to be changing their direction, arching toward the west now. Naetis couldn't help but wonder what was driving them... and for that matter where they were going.

Silently, he crept toward the crumbled walls of the town, hood drawn up over his head in camoflauge as dusk faded into darkness. There was still light enough to see, but in his long billowing cloak, he looked more a shadow than a human. He climbed carefully over the wreckage of the wall. In the distance, he could still hear the screams of terror issuing from the people of Renwold and the howls of the Har'thyn.

His heart quickened at the sight that greeted him... They were vicious. They were brutal. They were remarkable. Death might well have simply rained down upon this town. There would be no one left alive. No one.

And then his eye caught something utterly unexpecting. A lone Har'thyn... laying motionless upon the ground. Naetis approached with caution, but in his heart he knew the foul truth. The beautiful creature was dead. He layed a slender hand upon it, stroking the leathery skin, eyes narrowed in anger. What sort of useless human could possibly have done this to such a magnificent creature. Who could have overpowered it? He would have an answer.

From an inner pocket of his cloak, Naetis withdrew a roughly-hewn stone bowl, it's rim decorated with carefully carven runes the like of which few scholars had ever come across. A language whose past had been forgotten out of fear. A language which now belong solely to the dark art.

From his belt, he drew a knife, likewise inscribed. And with this he cut deep into the Har'thyn's throat. The purplish blood flow freely, for the beast was only minutes dead, and Naetis caught it in the bowl. He sat beside the creature, gently swirling the contents of the stone vessel, gazing into the dark liquid.

"Em v'neit... Em nashi... Em j'dor..." he chanted feverishly under his breath, over and over, and with each recitation, the dark liquid seemed to change. In it's depths, he could see flashes on images... the creature's prey... and a boy... a boy who was spared, no less...

A sudden flash of the brightest light erupted from the darkness of the blood. Naetis howled as the light blinded him for a moment, the bowl slipping from his hands and falling, breaking in two on the debris strewn ground. But he didn't care about it's loss... emblazoned for a few brief minutes in his field of vision was another rune. A rune very different from those that he used in his own arts. An elven rune.

Not a boy, then... An elf. An elf had not only killed the beast, but had killed it after he had been spared. And Naetis found that very interesting indeed.

[Raige]

Raige lifted his face to the rain, eyes closed, nostrils flaring as if to smell the weather. He opened his eyes and focues on the path ahead of him again. The rain was a veritable curtain of waterfall, it's natural music almost lulling him to sleep while sitting astride his horse. He leaned down and patted the animal's strong neck. It was a beautiful horse, all golden fur and mane and tail, quite a contrast with his own dark skin. He swung down off his horse and led his companion down the path that might or might not be slippery with rainfall.

A few hours later, Raige stopped walking in the forest. He let his horse have its head, and it began munching on what must have looked to it to be inviting grass. Raige's own stomach gurgled slightly, and he dug into one of his saddle bags and pulled out a chunk of meat from a deer he had killed and cooked a week ago. Finished eating, he peeled his soaking shirt from his body, rolled it up, and tied it to the back of his saddle. He bent over and tried to wring some of the water from his loose pant leggins, adjusted his calf-length boots, and slid the shortsword on his left hip in a more comfortable position. He took his axe from where it was tied to his saddle and dumped the water from its scabbard before slinging it across his back and putting the axe back in the scabbard. He climbed back into the saddle, took the reins, and started forward again, riding at a slow pace, with no specific destination in mind. He had patience aplenty, and was in no hurry to get anywhere in particular.

[Vothus]

This close, Vothus could clearly smell drink on the man’s breath, but his eyes were not as glazed as Vothus had expected. He placed his weight on his walking stick like he needed it for balance, but the fact he had killed one of the beasts when no-one else seemed able to…

There was simply no way of knowing what might happen when the men he was leading caught up to those they were following, and no way of knowing where this new man would fit into the picture. It might well be worth declaring himself a neutral in this whole situation, if such a thing were possible without raising the ire of his new-found companions. Vothus bowed, formally, in the manner of his distant land, and straightened. He managed to speak without hesitation or stutter, although to one who knew him well, it would be clear from his soft tone he was a little nervous.

I am named Vothus. In truth, I am unsure of the names of those with me, for we met but recently. In locating the women, we seem to share a common goal. If you could aid us towards that, it would be most appreciated.

He paused, his eyes flicking to the wriggling “package” on the ground, and now his voice did falter.

Yon..yon package is truly one of those…who maimed this place? We should not simply leave it here. Perhaps it is important though…informative. Maybe we could take it with us?

It looked mightily heavy to Vothus, but the alternatives were bleak. To leave the beast unguarded was unconscionable and to kill it out of hand went against his faith. A plan of sorts was starting to form in his mind, but for it to work, he would need them to take the captured beast. If only one of the older clan members was here. Vothus found his own words were weak and unconvincing to his ears.

[Ijoli]

Interesting fellow, this one... Didn't even know his own travelling companions. And a tad on the skiddish side, besides... at least that was the impression Ijoli got. Bloody formal, too... He doubted this Vothus spent much time in places the likes of which Ijoli frequented. Still, he knew from experience not to let first impressions deceive.

"Good ter meet ye, Vothus. Me name's Ijoli. Ijoli Lengran," he said, grinning slightly. Whoever this fella and his friends were, company was company. He turned and glared at the beast, which had started growling, "Oy! Shut up ye bloody pain in th' arse!"

He picked up a rock from the ground and threw it, striking the creature. It quieted... somewhat. Then he turned back to Vothus and the other man, casting a wary glance at the two still farther off who had not yet joined the party.

"Aye, that's one 'o the ruddy bastards what did this. Didn'a kill it outright... I thought ta meself, maybe they're smarter'n they look. Thought maybe this 'un could tell me somethin' useful. So's I could get the warnin' out ter other towns, yer know? But's just a bleedin' predator... No brains at all. I's plannin' on puttin' it outta everyone's misery 'afore yer showed up. I don' know if'n yer can shift the bloody thing anywhere, or fer tha' matter why yer'd want ter. Must weigh more'n fifty stone, easy. But have a closer look... I'll leave it up ter ye ter decide... I 'aven'a got any real use fer the bleedin' thing. I wouldn'a recommend gettin' too close, though. Bastard has a tendancy ter snap at anythin' that gets within range."

((OOC: Just a note... to those unfamiliar with the term, one stone is about fourteen pounds.))

[Edward & Thomson]

Ah... so this strange cloaked fellow would be cooprative and take them to the witch and her companions. Well, that was certainly good, not as fun as having to bash in his skull, but good none the less. They hadn't made it very far before they came across yet another man... for such a desimated town, there sure were a lot of people around. This new fellow, liquored and lame armed man, had caught the attention of the other new fellow, the one with the cloak, a bit confusing... yes I think so too. But anyway... the two of them got into some sort of a converstaion about monsters... or whatever... it really didn't matter to Edward... he was more interested in finding the witch, and Thomson cared even less... he justed wanted to get out of this place.

"We don't have time for this! The witch is probably getting away! Let's go already!"
The large man was apparently getting a bit agitated.

[GabrielThief]

The scream had set his teeth on edge, but Gabriel forced himself not to react. Instead, he quickly crossed the room and sat on the edge of the girl's bed. She was still panicked and seemed to have no idea where she was, not surprising considering that Gabriel had knocked her out. Gabriel snapped his fingers twice in quick succession, drawing her attention to his hand. He drew his hand towards his face so that her eyes followed and focused on his face, then he dropped his hand into his lap. He held her gaze for a moment before speaking.

Do not worry, you are safe, no one will harm you.

Gabriel reached up and brushed some stray hair out of her face in order to get a better look at her. She was young, sixteen at the most, and very thin. Her blonde hair was soaked and matted, and her skin had an unhealthy grey quality to it. Gabriel stood and took her hand, leading her to the table and helping her into a seat. He then located a bottle of brandy and a few glasses. Placing a glass in front of her, Gabriel filled it with a liberal amount of brandy, then sat down and poured one for himself.

Drink it, it will help.

Gabriel took a sip of his own brandy and studied the girl for a moment, she hadn't touched hers.

You really should drink it.

Gabriel waited a moment more and then shrugged.

I don't suppose you could tell us what happened, could you?