[Game Thread] Chapter I

[Davey Bones]

Sharimel drops her herbs and collects her things, following Gabrielle to the hall. Do I need my arms, or can that wait? She asks, trying to gauge the seriousness of the situation.

[omglolnub]

OOC Primarily he's a "partisan", though that might not be the best term. However, his group does mercenary work for money to fund their operations, after all fighting the government isn't free.

Jared looks at the man with an easy, but serious gaze. This was his show for now, and he would lead the circus. He took another swig of whiskey as he waited, trying to look like a mercenary, just in case this man was...unsympathetic...to his cause.

[TCSilvermane]

The withered old man tossed a simple key on the bar counter and examined the coins carefully, as if to ascertain if they were genuine. Eyes roving over them for a moment, he decided that they were indeed real coins and not clever fakes. Exasperated, he quickly pocketed the coins and mumbled to Maeva, "Fourth door on your right. Will you be requiring anything else?" The tone of his voice clearly stated that it would not matter what she needed, he would not be giving it to her. Fortunately, Maeva needed nothing more from the old pervert. Shaking her head, she gave him a sweet, innocent smile and turned briskly toward the staircase. As she walked, her hips swayed attractively, her form fitting clothing leaving little to imagination. She could almost hear his mental groan.

The old staircase creaked loudly, a good sign. No unwelcome surprises tonight. At least short of the one she was about to receive.

Inhuman screams reached Maeva's ears, almost painful in their volume. Turning around and rushing down the few steps she had ascended, a strange sight met her multi-colored eyes. A rather large man wearing a hat and sporting a great deal of black powder weaponry had approached two of the patrons at one of the many tables. These two men were the origins of the unholy shrieks. Smoke poured off their heads and a look of intense pain was spread across their faces. Hissing at the offender, both of them bolted, knocking over several of the tables and an unfortunate man aside. Just as quickly, the big man took of after them, followed by a barking mutt and another man similarly clad in several different guns.

There was silence for a moment, most everyone either too stunned or pissing themselves with fear to react. Maeva herself was included in the former, but only for a brief second. Looking toward the stair landing, she found herself torn between two possibilities. On one hand, she could simply take another step up, find her room and settle down for the night, mostly safe from the dangers that lurked in the darkness. On the other were two intensely interesting men chasing what could only be some sort of monsters in disguise. Indecision wracked her brain. Safety or fun?

Fun of course. There is no actual safety anyways.

Maeva took off at a run, intent upon following the pair and their canine, at a safe distance of course. She vaguely heard someone shout that the door would not be open if she left, but Maeva didn't really care. Too intent was she upon the possible spice that would enrich her recently drudging existence. She stopped after she had taken a few steps outside of the in, listening carefully for anything that indicated where they had run off to.

The baying of a hound, presumably the mutt that had taken off with them, rang out in the night. They were not far ahead and she might be able to catch them if she truly wished. Again resuming her run, her instincts bade her to stick to the darker areas, places shrouded in shadow to avoid detection. This was secondary to her desire to find what had caught her attention.

Rolls   Mostly for show, cause short of natural 20s they wont matter :P Dice Hide: (as this is an older post, these rolls are interpreted by the older (more basic) dice roller code) d20-14: (7) - 14 Total = -7 Dice Move Silently: (as this is an older post, these rolls are interpreted by the older (more basic) dice roller code) d20-13: (12) - 13 Total = -1

[Greaven]

Elizabeth rode long and hard through the woods, taking great care that she avoid any obvious pitfalls on the paths, a cut at her cheek from a branches harsh whip as the woman bolted by on her mount.

It was late, her patrol had run long as she found herself chasing down one shadow after the last, and then the one before that, and all a waste of time, all minor disturbances that likely would have kept good distance from town. No! There is no such thing as minor, there are no sweet tales with happy endings. Every sprite or spirit in zis forest would kill me in a heartbeat.

Sighing greatly, she groans as she rolls her stiff shoulders, drawing the beast to a near dead halt, dirt flying as hooves skid and skip through loose soil, "Ach! No, I cannot believe it is so late, I vill never make it to the village before Dusk. Run Thunder, ve must give up the hunt, ya? Tomorrow is another day." There was only one place that she could think of that was even in the area, a farm with a small barn lay just on the other side of the woods and across a field. It was the best she was coming up with, and frankly it would have to do.

Arriving just before dusk, she knew there was no way the farmer would bother opening the door for her, no matter what all she had done to protect them, and heal them. It was a long, and noisy night, as skittering creatures and unknown things seemed to move around and about. Very little sleep came to the paladin in the night, her eyes remaining open for nearly the whole night, as her paranoid fancies kept taking her back to the present, and past, dividing her attentions among new and old problems.

[Cheaplaffs]

Liz Slightly suprised that you were the first to volunteer, the High Priest places a hand on the cross hanging around his neck and for a second you notice his eyes stop on the mark on your cheek. "Hm. How appropriate." Gesturing for you to follow, the cowled priest and his entourage leave the dining hall and make their way up towards the upper levels of the monestary. As you move, he speaks. "I will not lie. I will ask that you place yourself in danger. But I would not ask you this if I did not believe it was for the good of the Savior. For all man." As a lower-ranking servant, you've never before been permitted to come this far up the staircase, and everything you see now is like a new world. Beautiful stained-glass portraits of religious figures adorn every window and mosaics hundreds of meters long across every wall. This must be the briefing room, where duties are assigned to the higher-ranking warrior-priests and exorcists. Along with the High Priest you've followed here, there are two others present - the Cardinal, Cason Hesegard and his two bishops. The aging man glares down at your mark with contempt visable in his bushy silver eyebrows. He speaks while scutinizing you, but does not address you directly. Instead, speaking to the High Priest in the Noble Tongue. "Interesting choice." The High Priest replies, "I believe this one is familiar with Sister Sharimel. And her experiences may prove useful in battling this threat." Grumbling to his bishops, the cardinal narrows his eyes at you as he says, "We shall see. You may leave us." See Sharimel's post for more establishment.

Sharimel "There will be time to gather your equipment. For now, Father Hesegard as requested your presense without delay." She rushes you up to the second floor. You've only been here a handful of times, but each one, you for some reason get a chill down the base of your spine. This place gives you the creeps. Perhaps it has something to do with the mosaics and stained glass. The eyes always seem to follow you wherever you go. Interesting is the fact that Liz is here too, for some reason. What could this be about? Cardinal Hesegard greets you with a solumn nod and allows for you to bow your head, as if custom, before speaking to you in Noble. "Sister Sharimel. You have been called upon to perform a duty at the behest of the Church. You will be asked to place yourself in places where evil lives, and to purge it." Gesturing to the table in the center of the room, you can see maps and outlines splashed across it. They all focus around a community not too far from the monestary. A simple agricultural and trading town called Goodson. "Our brothers in Goodson claim to be overwhelmed by the devils' influence. I know not exactly what madness they speak of, and this will be your duty to determine." Hesegard instructs, his hands dissapearing into the folds of his crimson robes. One of his bishops steps forward to address Liz now with a wave of his hand, "This one has been selected to assist you in any way she is able. In exchange for this, she will be reconciled forever." Just as quickly, the second bishop adds, "Should you survive." A short silence, then from Hesegard, "Take these." A number of rolled-up scrolls. "In these documents you will find directions to Goodson and a message you are not to read, but deliver directly to the church in town." The first bishop then adds, "Take the time to prepare whatever equipment you may need. Be sure to arm yourself." A glance over at Liz, then a clear of the throat, "Oh, and yes, show this one to the armoury as well." Turning away, Hesegard leaves without saying a word. The bishops close in, gesturing for you to take your leave. "You have your assignment, sister. May the son of God protect us all."

[Sporatik]

Jacob took one more drag on his cigarette, dropped a handful of coin on the table, grabbed his rifle and took off after his brother, holding his hat with his free hand. Before he knew it, Jacob was back out into the night air, keeping one eye on his brother and the other firmly fixed on the pair of men trying to make their escape.

"Let me take the shot, they're going to get away again." Jacob says to Elliot once he catches up with him.

He knew his brother would say no, but Jacob didnt mind asking anyway. This time, he wasnt going to let Elliot slow him down. He would use the full extent of his speed to stay with their prey, even if it meant leaving his burly brother behind.

[Full sprint action]

[Davey Bones]

Yes, Sirs. Sharimel says, bowing.

She grabs Liz's hand and practically drags the young girl out of the room and down the stairs. We need to get to the armory, now. First we will stop off at my chambers to get my own traveling kit. She walks the girl to her room, enters, and comes back out with a pack on her back, a mace at her side, and a crossbow on her belt. We must get to the armory. We ought to be able to find you suitable traveling clothes and weaponry. Please tell me you know how to use some sort of weapon, and don't lie to me. For some reason the Church has seen fit to return you to your status as a mage of some sort and I expect full co-operation from you. Do you know how to fight or not?

[copatt]

The meeting, the trek to Sharimel's quarters, then on to the armory are all a blur for Liz. So much, happening so fast, but a chance at recociliation. I can only hope that I have made the right decision. I, ah, sister, I'm not sure they've decided to restore any of the arcane power I once wielded, only reconciliation, but that alone is a sweet enough gift. As for weapons, fighting, it's been a while, but I could use, um, something simple, maybe a dagger.

In the armory, Liz selects a suit of leather armor that looks as though it would fit. Sister, could you help me get buckled in. I've worn armor, but I'm not overly familiar with its finer points. The armor straps fastened, Liz pulls a long, simple traveler's robe on over her head and fastens a belt with a scabbarded dagger around her waist. She completes her armament by selecting a stout club. Liz considers a pair of boots briefly, but the leaves them on the shelf. The bare feet, much as I hate it, they keep me grounded, mindful of my place. Sister, these should do for weapons and armor. If you'd like I can secure us some rations from the kitchen.

[Davey Bones]

After assisting Liz with getting dressed, Sharimel looks for the armorer. I need scrolls. Spells. Protection from evil, consecration spells, and the like. I'm armed well, but tell me what else you have which you can offer me for my travels. She glances at Liz. I have trail rations, but it is always good to secure extra. Go, now, and come right back here, I'll be waiting for you.

[copatt]

Surprisingly eager to please Sharimel, Liz sets off at a run towards the kitchen. There, she throws open the door to stumble across Molly McGee hard at work. Molly, I'm going on a, well, on a mission with Sharimel. I'm going to need some ration. Liz does not expect or wait for Molly to gather the rations for her, instead she starts to fill a small sack with dried rations and a few fresh items as well. Alright Molly, I think this'll do. Be good, you'll be out of here soon yourself.

This is so weird. I don't even now why I'm so expected. Is it the reconciliation? Is it the chance for some excitement, just putting the drudgery behind me? The thoughts fly through Liz's head as she races back up the steps toward the armory. Am I happy to be serving the church or simply getting away from it?

Sister Sharimel, I'm back.

[Davey Bones]

Excellent. We need to wait, I think the armorer is searching for anything of use to lend me from the Church's stores.... Sharimel says somewhat impatiently. Did you find anything yet? She cries out, or are you making the scrolls as we speak she mutters.

So, Liz, tell me what you are capable of. I need to know what you can and cannot do...

[copatt]

Liz looks down at her bare toes, the redness rising in her cheeks. Well, until a couple of months ago, I could command arcane energies to a number of ends- changing my appearance, magically armoring myself, affecting the minds of others, even burning a man alive. Now, well, not so much.

Liz shifts uneasily from foot to foot. I suppose I still know a fair amount about magic. Given the resources, I could produce a number of alchemical items. I'm also familiar with the workings of noble houses- yhe nobles themselves and their servants. I doubt I'll be of much use in a fight to you sister.

[Cheaplaffs]

Jared Is Jared an alcholic? I only ask because it may be an interesting character trait, and I have rules for addiction. Let me know if I should apply them. The hooded informant turns his head just long enough to hork up some flem and spit it onto the floor. His voice is gruff and low, but you recognize it as one of your men from the mainland. You are indeed in the right place. "Its good 'a see you made it over the channel in one piece, Boss." The mercenary says, grinning under his hood. "The lads are ready when you are. What's the plan, then? Should we head straight for Greystone?" Greystone, the largest city in western Europa. If there's any work or action to be had, its sure to be there. Rumors of supernatural activity are rampant in the area, something about the city's necropolis being boarded up. This may or may not be of any concern to you, depending on what your goals are...

Brothers Grim and Maeva "No!" Elliot barks as the two hurry after the men. "I need them alive!" Possibly mortally wounding one of the men could ruin everything. It was important that they follow these two back to wherever they came from. Chances are if they're evil, they have some kind of inkling of what's going on in Greystone. The Brothers Grim had arrived here in Greystone just two days ago on their way East, and hearing word that malevolent forces have taken over the city's necropolis, the monster hunters couldn't turn down the opportunity to square off against the legions of evil. Hired on by a private contractor working for the noble council, the Brothers have been working hard for days with little success. Whatever this "evil force" is, its been harder to track down than a needle in a haystack. These two scouts may be the only lead they'll ever get. Hearing an additional pair of feet behind them, Elliot took note that they were being followed as he tried to keep up with Patches and his brother, whipping through the dark streets, now eerily abandoned. Already the hunter could tell where they were being lead - the necropolis. Up ahead the brothers and Maeva can see the tall statues and crypts looming just around the next bend. The two men duck under the chains on the gate and dissapear somewhere inside. Elliot stops at the entrance and looks back, trying to spot the person following them. "Keep your gaurd up..." Elliot grumbles to his brother, "Something isn't right. This smells like a trap." Drawing one of the revolvers holstered on his waist, Elliot sweeps the darkness with the barrel and shouts, "You there! Show yourself!"

Lady von Drachen The farm and surrounding area seems quiet enough. Despite the noise of your horse and normal woodland sounds, the night is actually quite peaceful. At your knocking, a shutter slides away on the door revealing the adult eyes of a weary farmer. Once he spots your armour and horse, the simple man quirks an eyebrow and asks, "Who goes there?"

[omglolnub]

OOC Yeah, he's a functional alcoholic, but an alcoholic nonetheless.

If there's work to be done that gets us the coin we need to wage our fight back home, then we go to Greystone, he said, taking another swig out of the near empty bottle. He hated being off island, always felt like something big would happen back home and he wouldn't be there to help his men. Still, here was here, and there was coin needed, so he wanted to do what was needed, and do it fast.

Shall we leave?

[Cheaplaffs]

Jared Right, so while he's under the influence of alcohol, Jared will function normally. I will consider you moderately addicted, which means you need to drink about twice a day, maybe more or less, to avoid withdrawal. Doing this in excess, as in drinking too much, will still result in intoxication, which could be just as deadly if you need to keep your wits about you. If that's too much, let me know. "Right 'cha are, boss. Less' go." The hooded man replies happily with a grin, rising to follow you outside. Loitering nearby are a number of other men you recognize from your company, one of them smoking and the other waiting patiently. Once they spot you and your companion, the one flicks away his cigarette and they join you without much but a nod. "So." The hooded man says, crossing his arms. "Any ideas?"