Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Ascendancy [IC] [CLOSED]

[demytra]

The Tsavanian-Atracan Front
​

The Great Retreat is what Tsavania's rout had been called following Atraca's general offensive across the Highlands, pushing Tsavania nearly two-hundred miles further inland and on the verge of losing home territory towards Atraca's military. While generally speaking the retreat had been well-organized in comparison to Tsavania's offensives, and had resulted in averting complete disaster, to say morale was crushed was an understatement. Hastily made trenches and fortifications replaced the deep encampments that had been made in the highlands, which in turn left the broad majority of soldiers being left in the miserable climate conditions of Tsavania's outermost reaches. Wet trenches only compounded the problems of empty bellies and broken spirits while the bombs sounded in the distance - a perpetual exchange between the guns of two rival powers.

Artem gazed out into the new ravaged territory that separated their lines and those of the enemy, a thin mist trailing across the ground that wrapped around broken trees, corpses, and barbed wire. Hell had changed its face again, and he could only watch now was the war grew closer to home. A crow cawed in the distance to add to the misery, which drew his attention to a hazy sky. Everything was wrong. How did it get so wrong so fast?

["See any crumpet-munchers?"] a familiar voice asked, belonging to Sava as he took up position next to Artem.

["No. Quiet in our district. Got a smoke?"] Artem asked.

Sava dug into one of his pouches and pulled out a pair, two little soldiers standing at attention like the ones about to drag them: ["Last that I have. I'll get more on our rotation."]

["If we live to see it."] Artem replied bluntly as he allowed his friend to light it for him. Smoke filled his lungs and in turn provided a temporary comfort amidst the ruination. The two shared a moment of silence as they smoked, the faint glow of embers on the filters of the cigarettes remained overpowered by the mist and smoke. ["I've been thinking-"]

["That's a first."] Sava interrupted jokingly, forcing a chuckle out of Artem for the first time in weeks.

["About that pamphlet you showed me some time back."]

["What about it?"]

Artem was quiet for a moment as he mulled over what he could possibly say, considering that he was uneducated in the politics of matters. But he figured it didn't matter about what he knew, but rather what he felt. He took another drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke out through his nostrils before speaking again: ["We're getting fucked by everything, but how do we fight against it all? I mean, I'm just the little guy."] He turned to Sava with a melancholic twinkle in his eye: ["A small cog in a very large machine."]

["Well, that's what I've been reading about actually."] Sava said, offering a soft smile in return. ["It doesn't matter how small we are. Sure we're like ants just by ourselves. But together, if all of us fight for the same thing, we can make things better for us all."]

A moment of silence passed between the two of them, marked over by the distant rumbling of artillery that turned their attention over briefly. ["But how many of us are willing to do that?"]

---

The Next Day...​

Artem rushed across the battlefield with rifle in hand, dirt and mud exploding around him as he and countless thousands of others rushed to the enemy's lines. An offensive had been ordered by those in the Imperial Stavka to retake "every inch", which was worded quite differently for the more nationalist inclined. Artem felt no pride or joy in this matter as comrades fell into the mud below, bleeding into the Earth and losing their lives needlessly. At least after all this he would be put on home leave for a few weeks on rotation... if he could survive. Another explosion nearby made Artem trip into a crater, curling up to protect himself from the falling dirt. He wanted to scream, but only let out a raspy yell as more explosions went off around him. A man's limb fell right on top of his legs, torn from its host with such violence that most of the skin had been peeled off.

Artem stared at it for a moment in horror, panicked breaths forcing him to come to terms with what had literally been put in his lad and left him batting at it to get it off. Scrambling back up, he managed to regain his footing and continue onwards towards the objective that they had all been sent on. The main Atracan line was perhaps a hundred yards away, a distance that seemed as vast as the great tundra of the far north; but it was then that the whistles sounded once more, beckoning them to retreat. Another wave of bodies having been felled for yet another failed offensive, leaving those at the bottom-most rungs to suffer the consequences. But even as they all ran back to safety, the Atracans continued to fire without remorse for scared boys and wounded men.

Artem himself stumbled into another crater to wait out the misery being inflicted on his fellows, only to find the hole occupied by a much larger figure. A wounded werewolf with most of his hide burned off lay curled, barely breathing. What had identified him as being a part of Tsavania's military had been reduced to a few scraps of clothing that had managed to survive the carnage, unlike most of the rest of his body. Artem, with a shudder in his breath, put his rifle down and instead slowly crawled over to the dying creature. Pained eyes stared at him, watching his movements as he put a hand on top of the man's head.

["I... I'll get a medic over-"] Artem managed to get out, choking on the white lie.

A pained groan from the werewolf was all the creature could muster vocally, as it only just turned its head to Artem. The look in his eyes could tell the entire story: I'm not going to make it. Artem gritted his teeth as he watched, yet again, someone else dying in front of him. He felt powerless, as he had so many times during this war, as he brought himself closer to the werewolf to try to comfort him.

["I'm sorry."] Artem said, taking a deep breath to try to compose himself. ["I... do you want me to end it?"]

The werewolf was quiet for a moment before slowly nodding.

 

[Infab]

Two Days Later...

Castle Dorchester, Braumwich, Kingdom of Atraca

​

"My lord. I've received word that Thorgran and Keggoth have been slain. Their remains were discovered in the mines beneath the dwarven citadel. No sign of the artifact, so it is assumed that the Saint's group has procured it."

The tone of Mazgith's statements was filled with boredom, as if she really didn't care what had gone on in Northern Daristein. Though really, Mazgith always sounded like that unless she was truly interested in something. Usually, those things were the ideas and plans that her brother had.

Sazak shifted on the Atracan throne, letting out a sigh as he let his head rest propped up atop his fist. "Of course. Thorgran and Keggoth performed their duties to the letter, and the Saint's lot did as expected. Things are going all according to the Gods' plan." he responded, "They'll be on the way to northern Escaria next, to locate Undite's staff."

"Indeed. Ah, the perks of having an informant..." said Mazgith, with a slight nod. "...Speaking of Escaria and the staff..."

She then shifted her gaze, turning her head slightly until she found herself staring at a pair of the remaining Icons standing at the base of the small staircase leading up to the throne. Sekath and Sagath. The Icons of Lust and Envy, respectively.

The pair of demonic women looked between the two, as Sazak's gaze soon shifted to them as well. They both hesitated, taking note of the look in both Sazak's eyes as well as Mazgith's. Eventually, however, Sekath would speak up.

"We've located the staff's general location. All we need to do now is simply dig it up. That will take some time, of course... years of storms and erosion have left the site covered in dense forest and vegetation."

"...Excellent work." responded Sazak, a smirk appearing on his face. "You won't need help with that, will you? I assume your succubi and incubi can do the job?"

"Yes, my lord. If you need to shift your troops, then please do so." responded Sekath, quickly bowing in response.

Sazak glanced to Mazgith, and waved a finger towards her. "...Pull the Tsavanian troops back. Have them move back into Tsavania, and shift them west. Time to begin Tsavania's downfall. Leave the Daristeinian troops as guards. I'm sure they can handle things with what I have planned."

"Yes, my lord." said Mazgith, giving the Demon King a nod before vanishing through a hellish portal that opened up immediately behind her.

Sazak then shifted his attention back to the Icons before him, standing from the throne as he spoke. "...I'm sending you both back to northern Escaria. Do not leave it until that artifact is in your hands." He smiled afterwards, walking down the staircase but stopping three steps from the pair of Icons. He then spoke again. "...Before Keggoth died, I had her do something very particular, in regards to Cassandra Bainbridge. I'm quite sure it paid off, if the pureblood managed to get her hands on the artifact in the citadel. The woman's psyche is damaged, as you both know... Exploit that. As for the others... be creative. You two beautiful women are experts at that."

His smile grew wider. "If you're successful... as a special gift, I'll let you rule over the very continent that your mother did. You may do whatever you wish with it, including turning the Oni lands into a crater."

Sekath and Sagath's eyes shifted from looks of fear to sheer excitement. The beautiful, exotic lands that their mother, Ibaraki, ruled over? They HAD to do this. They HAD to win, now.

"Oh... and a funny thing about that Saint's group, that I'm sure you'll just... absolutely love." he then said, raising a finger. His smile shifted into a grin. "...One of them is an Oni. He goes by two names. Takato, or Xiaòzhou... These days, it's more of the latter."

As quickly as the excitement had appeared in the eyes of the Icons of Lust and Envy, it was replaced with rage. They had an Oni among them? One of the worthless scum who slew their magnificent mother?

"Say no more, my lord. We'll see it through to the end." stated Sagath, her tone laced with seething rage.

"I know you will." responded Sazak, his grin fading back into a smile. "Go. I've my own work to do."

Not long afterwards, the pair of Sekath and Sagath vanished into their own portals, leaving Sazak alone in the throne room. He looked around briefly, taking in the extravagance of the room's decorations. I might take some cues from this, and have the palace below decorated the same way. Newmont had taste.

Then, he snapped his fingers. A trio of portals opened, and not long afterwards, a trio of demons stepped through. Sazak's three top lieutenants: Barath, Zollmar, and Dazzilan. Each was in charge of a specific group of possessed Atracan soldiers, and each would be getting marching orders soon enough.

"Ahhh, my boys. Thank you for attending our meeting so promptly. Hope I wasn't interrupting anything of note."

"Nah. Tsavanian front's goin' well. I had just told a captain to make sure nobody interrupted my coffee break." responded Barath, scratching his scarred jaw. He chuckled after that. "I'm good for around thirty minutes."

"Boys at the Daristein front are itching for action, my lord." stated Zollmar, a crooked grin appearing on his face. Barath and Zollmar then shifted their gaze, looking to Dazzilan.

Dazzilan shrugged. "We're all stocked up and ready to move, sir. They're eager to see those nice, fancy streets and the big cathedral that you mentioned." he said, "Not much else to say, beyond that."

"Mmm, excellent." responded Sazak with a gentle nod. "Well now, let's not keep them waiting any further, eh? Here's your orders."

He then motioned to Barath. "Your group will continue their work. Push towards the Tsavanian capital, surround it, siege it, and capture it. You'll be receiving aid from one of Mazgith's lieutenants, coming from the east of the capital. Tsavania falls, and falls soon. Understand? Once its done, you take Nivarden."

"Understood, my lord." was Barath's simple response.

Sazak then turned his attention towards Zollmar. "Your men on the Daristein front will have three objectives. First objective: push into Daristein, as you are now. Force them to submit, so that our friend in the Alchemist's Guild can get her little prize for assisting us." He held up his hand, two fingers extended. "Your other two objectives? Invade the two neutral nations of Trechstaat and Schwyz. Make them capitulate, and it should make things easier for you to capture Daristein."

A wide grin appeared on Zollmar's face. "Finally. No more neutrality."

Sazak grinned as well, then looked to Dazzilan. "And finally, it's down to you, Dazzilan." he said, waving his hand towards him.

Dazzilan waited quietly, wondering exactly what his own orders will be. Stay put? March?

"Order those at the Stiusil border to begin the operation. We take Stiusil." said Sazak, "...And your army?"

"...March them right onto the Gods' precious little doorstep in Eternis."

CHAPTER THREE: DARKNESS



​

It took far longer than it had for the group to arrive at the small pond just outside of Stühmold, near the Grey Forest. It really felt like weeks, as they made their way carefully through Daristein. Making detours to avoid troops heading to either front, groups of Alchemists going about their business, and law enforcement just trying to keep the peace with the war going on. Sebastian, as well as Riberta, managed to keep the group safe with their knowledge of both the language of Daristein as well as routes that the group could use to detour away from heavily populated areas.

The sight of grey trees was rather interesting, as the group could see the beginning of the Grey Forest not far from the pond. They were completely devoid of color, resembling something carved from tall slabs of stone. The bark, the limbs, the leaves... all a dull grey.

"...Strange sight, isn't it?" said Riberta, at the edge of the dock on the pond. She pointed out over the water, at the off colored forest in the distance.

"It certainly is." responded Rebecca, as she walked onto the dock. Behind her, in the ankle-high grass along the edge of the pond, the group began to settle in for the wait. Cassiel was already there, distributing supplies and such to those that needed it. The wait, really, was for Riberta's niece, Evelyn. At least it was a sunny, beautiful day.

Behind the group sat Stühmold, a quaint little town. Most of its citizens were a mix of farmers or woodsmen, living more simplistic lives compared to most. As Cassandra looked back to the small buildings from where she stood, she mulled over how different everything was compared to the larger cities that she often frequented. She was more used to crowds, noise, and the general liveliness of modern society. It was a bit more exciting than that of small villages and towns full of 'peasants', as some of the high society types, would call them.

But these 'peasants' lead honest, hard working lives. It was respectable, honestly.

As she stood there, she suddenly felt a sharp, intense pain in her right temple. It was enough for her eyes to twitch, shutting completely before opening with rapid blinks. Maybe its the stress. I shouldn't have used those damn gauntlets.

She rubbed her temple for a moment, before turning about to look at the others. Just... one more artifact to go. Three more Icons... and one Demon King, plus his sister.

 

[K0mori]

Peltragow, Atraca
​

The hour was late, and aside from periodically checking in on his lone patient - a dying woman who was trying to regain her strength ahead of a journey to a sanitarium nearer to her home on the mainland where she could spend her final months near family - Dr. Sullivan Cropper had little else to do aside from sitting and reading in his parlor. His home being attached to his office offered him plenty of comfort and convenience, and granted him a leisurely pace in life that perhaps infected him with a persistent optimism and goodwill to others.

There was a knock at the door, and he didn't question why. Everyone in this area of town knew that he was a physician, and so a late visitor was often someone in need of help. However, when he opened the door, he found a stranger who seemed rather relaxed. He took the pipe from his mouth and greeted her. "Well, good evening, ma'am. Is everything alright?"

She smiled at him, her hair and eyes the same shade of gold as the brass lamps lining the street. "Good evening to you as well, doctor. All is well, I assure you, and I won't bother you for long."

"It's no bother," he replied quickly, his curiosity piqued. "What can I do for you?"

Dorothy smiled. "There's something in your home that I need... something that belongs to someone I'm due to meet a long distance from here."

"You're going to need to be more specific," the doctor replied, a bit wearily. He took a puff off his pipe. "I don't think any of my patients have left anything behind lately, but I keep a handful of items in my basement that might be what you're looking for."

Dorothy shook her head. "It's something else... Something you have on display. A blade...?"

---​

By the time the group reached Allenrode in eastern Daristein, Sebastian began to recognize the names of major towns and the lay of important roadways from his time in basic training, prior to the war. His melancholy deepened, although he was back to speaking again, with each passing mile on the way to the border seemingly draining him further and further. Gone was the young man delighted to be home again; here was a veteran - a reluctant survivor - marching to war along the same roads that brought him there the first time.

He was smoking a lot, and sleeping very little. He oscillated between anger and sadness, and spent a fair amount of time writing his thoughts into a journal that he acquired somewhere along the way. After three days on the road, he awoke from a nightmare, startling the others as he cried out in terror: "don't let me die here - not in the dark!" ...But when pressed, he wouldn't reveal what had happened in his dreams.

 

[Breadman]

Some time before entering the Gray forest

Constantine moved away from the camp for tonight. His turn to stand watch was over, but as he didn't need to sleep, he would just spend the evenings staring up into the sky. The moon and stars didn't exist in the Abyss. Not in this form at least. Sometimes a parody of the night sky would show itself to remind the wretched souls that even the most basic things was outside their grasp now. To him the bodies in the sky reminded him of how things were. Before his damnation. Details that were still faint, but as he gazed above, he could feel things become clearer.

Once during his watch Sebastian woke up screaming in the night, but would keep quiet as to what caused him to do so. Perhaps that journal holds the secret, but he wasn't ready to part with it anytime soon. As for the rest, he would exchange pleasantries and stories until they retired for the night. Not tonight though. Under the full moon, he walked alone away from the camp. He needed to be alone for this.

Under the moonlight, he drew a circle of runes in the dirt. Next he sliced his palm with the boot knife he carried. Following the incantations, he summoned the form of his patron demon, Lozon.

"You are late." He growled with annoyance.

"Nice to see you too."

"You were supposed to make contact days ago."

"The full moon is tonight, old man. I can't exactly tell it to shine brighter a few nights early so we can have a talk."

"Spare me the agitation, Constantine." Lozon lifted his hand to stop his line of thought "Just tell me if its true. Have the Icons of Greed and Gluttony been slain?"

"Is the information slow to get there? They've been dead for a week at least. Burned the corpses with the Saint myself." Something wasn't right. Lozon had to have known that they were dead by now. There was something else behind the demon's words.

"It is true then." The old man 'smirked' "Their minions were sent into complete chaos and have been a nuisance to hunt and take down over the past weeks. Compared to now, they were a well behaved horde before."

"Greed were always the better organized ones. Easier to loot when everyone worked together. Fight for the lion's share after."

"And Gluttony have ceased with some of the more...dishonorable tactics." There was a palpable tone of disgust in his voice. He must have ran into something bad down there.

"They don't leave rivers of vomit and stomach acids behind them I take it."

"Were it so sanitary. How about you, Constantine? Any progress with your own quest?"

"If you're asking if the greedy bastard was with his queen, no such luck." The wraith lit a cigarette before he continued "Bastard is still loose somewhere and if he hasn't lost his cool with her death, then he's got a stronger grip on things than I hoped. Not good for anyone up here, but I'll have to worry about that after the artifact business is done."

"Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Your health, Constantine! How is your health?" The flippant answer visibly pissed the old man off. He was barking at the wraith. What did he want exactly?

"Lozon, I'm an undead man straight from the bowels of the Abyss, walking the earth. How do you think my health is?" He almost started to scream at the demon. What a stupid question. "If you were so concerned you should have sent for Colette to do this meeting instead."

"I ask with a reason." The demon's voice was calmed but with effort on his part "When you left, your aura was corrupted and decaying just as many others that have their souls bound to the Abyss. Now there's something else. The damage my bonds have afflicted to your spirit is...healing."

"What?" Constantine took the cigarette out of his mouth "What do you mean healing?"

"I can only guess as to why, but it seems that unlike Royland, this mission has a positive effect on you. Slaying the Icon of Greed was something that you contemplated before, was it not?"

"As much as anyone trapped in the Abyss thinks about killing the Icons." He shrugged "What are you saying? That I had a dream I fulfilled?"

"No, that would be wishful thinking. That kill wasn't just motivated by your need for revenge. It was righteous. Something the wraiths had largely forgotten."

"But wasn't Royland also righteous? It was why he managed to escape the Abyss in the first place."

"He believed himself to be and indeed many of his acts were righteous. However, his patron's blood-lust encouraged other acts that were masked as just. it was with her aid that he escaped the Abyss. Belief is yet another piece of this puzzle that I don't understand."

"So what now? Keep at it with this mission to see if I become an angel or something?"

"I doubt you will land yourself anywhere close to the Heavenly host." Lozon stroked his chin "But I wish to see if the wound on your spirit can be mended. If something like that is even possible for a wraith. An experiment like this is something we lucked into and I would regret it greatly if we were to waste it."

"I have no intention to be your toy, Lozon!" He raised his voice enough to be heard back in camp to anyone who's still awake. "I came here to do the job the tin man couldn't and to get my own payback, nothing more."

"Think for a second for someone that isn't yourself you cretin." The old demon spat back "Even now your own self-serving nature blinds you to the obvious. If you can claw yourself out of the hole our deal put you in, then there is something for the others to cling to. With your own guile you have forced fate to give you a chance that they haven't seen. Do not squander it."

"Fine, I'll bite." He dropped the cigarette bud on the ground and stomped the flame out. So that was it. He was the new golden boy. Something for the other wraiths to aspire to. The old fool had completely lost it." But why me? What make me so special? Why couldn't Royland do this?"

"I do not know, Constantine. Perhaps it is chance or perhaps there is something else. The shades seem to be drawn to you. Colette especially." There was a sillence in the air for a moment "Why do you wish to help her so much anyway? Is it the prize she will give upon her release or is there something else?"

"Why are you so interested in my redemption?" Constantine crossed his arms.

"I cannot say for now."

" 'Fraid I have to say the same to you."

Now

The forest was just as the shades had described it all those years ago. Devoid of color and leaving you with a sense of unease. Perfect place for a picnic really. His gaze wondered to the rest of the group but stopped at Cassanra.

"You fine there, Cass?"

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou remained an aid as he usually did during their travels, offering when possible to scout ahead with his abilities and being on watch when possible, though he felt incapable to aid Sebastian, who continued to be dour. It left the hermit contemplative, especially as he watched the stars and studied the Hangyaku-no-Tsurugi. He thought back to Shi Jing and her disciples, all he had learned both in technique and the state of things at Shouki Shrine, Zhongjing, Upper Redonia... he thought back to the Abyss, to the Northern Wastes and the Oni Village, to Abahai, to Algin, to his mother, Nari, to Yinjian and its constituent parts, Youdu, Luzhou, Sakai, Yangchon, et al... they must all be struggling throughout in this conflict in their own ways. The oni could sense the blade's rage as he began practicing it, as if what he knew flowed into it, and enraged it to an extent never-before seen.

With it a zhanmadao/oodachi, Xiaòzhou knew he had to ensure swift movements with it. Traditionally, such weapons were used for cavalry, and in turn paired with others such as polearms, to ensure that the target - the legs of a horse - could be struck down. With the sheath having carried on his back alongside his bag, it would have to either be unsheathed magically or through multiple motions if handled by only one person, so he concentrated on the latter for his early training, using his right arm to draw it out and allowing him to grab hold of it mid-blade to swing at the enemy before getting both hands on the handle. From there, the hermit tried to understand the means such a weapon would be traditionally used against a horse's leg, focusing on downward swings and front-facing horizontal swings, trying to utilize what weapons training he has had to get comfortable with the size of the weapon. The oni needed to understand its capacity to be able to use it in a way that Onimaru would've.

By the time they had arrived at the Grey Forest, Xiaòzhou had yet to finish his practice, but he hoped he would make further headway soon. He could only nod in wonderment at the sight. As they waited at the pond, the hermit waved to Cassiel, and expressed to him the progress he was making with the blade, which was slow, but steady. Suddenly, Cassiel could see on the oni's face that he noticed something, and saw as Xiaòzhou turned his head towards Cassandra, whom Constantine was already approaching. Xiaòzhou turned back to Cassiel with a worried look.

 

[Infab]

"You fine there, Cass?"

Cassandra's attention shifted, moving to look to Constantine as he spoke up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Guess it's just the stress from those damned gauntlets." she said, "...I also haven't actually fed in a while, so that might also be the problem too."

As Riberta returned from the dock, she overheard Cassandra's comment. She reached over onto the saddle bag on her horse, drawing a canteen from it and tossing it towards her. "Its blood." she said, "Lamb's blood, but still blood."

Cassandra didn't hesitate, unscrewing the cap and taking a few gulps from the metal container. Once she was done, she recapped it and wiped her mouth on her sleeve before tossing the canteen back to Riberta. "So, where's your niece?" she soon asked, attempting to move the conversation away from her.

Riberta shrugged. "Should be close, if Cassiel told her where to meet us." she responded. Then, a foreign voice called out to them from the direction of the town. Heavily Daristeinian in accent, and female in tone (though a bit on the boyish side.)

"Close isn't the right word, tante." called out the voice, drawing the attention of several members of the group. As they looked towards its source, they would find a lone woman riding a pale white horse. She definitely looked a lot like Riberta, though with medium length black hair, lighter skin, and a rough scar on her face stretching from the corner of her mouth to her right ear. Her piercing yellow eyes darted between the group as she rode up, eyes narrowed slightly.

As the horse arrived near them, she dismounted and strolled up. Walking allowed the group to get a better view of her, noting that she was dressed in a blackened leather jacket, what appeared to be a white blouse shirt beneath, blue jean pants, and riding boots. She seemed to be wearing a scarf or bandana around her neck as well, colored similar to clay. On her hip, a holster with a Luger shoved into it. The barrel on it seemed to be slightly longer than that of the one that Sebastian was carrying.

​

As she stopped, she drew a cigarette from a pack in her pocket, slipping it between her lips and lighting it with a match. "Guten tag. Willkommen in Allenrode." she said aloud afterwards, waving the match out and flicking it aside. "I'm Evelyn Rosenkrantz, and as you can tell, I'm a werebeast. Werewolf, specifically."

 

[demytra]

Stühmold was a place that didn't inspire much in the way of appearances, at least to Azathor, as the group made its approach to the Grey Forest; if anything, it was just a reminder of that - even in a time of calamity - there still was space apparently to keep those at the lowest rungs still in squalor. Such ruminations were for a different time, however, as their task was still the most pressing matter. The forest itself had an unsettling appearance with its unnaturally desaturated colouring, as if it were a photo still made manifest, which made the demon prince wonder what caused it to be in such a state in the first place. Magic? Something esoteric was the first possibility to cross his mind, though there was also the notion that it simply was the way it was.

But his attention then drew over towards Cassandra, as concern was brought over to her well-being. This made the demon prince still and observe with a soft frown, hoping that Cassandra was telling the truth and not simply brushing off a very real problem. With Evelyn's arrival, Azathor offered her a wave but kept silent otherwise as he listened and observed.

 

[Dmaster]

The huntress seemed focused and somewhat dour as they went through the exceptionally long journey across Darinstein, any sullen nature to her gaze and demeanor hidden by her drive to see this mission through to the end. As she had alluded to she was not terribly excited to venture to the ruins of her homeland, having had the luxury to be abroad doing this important work than keeping tabs on the destruction the war has wrought upon those lands. Beyond her horrifying exposure to the attack on her estate that Sebastian rescued her from, she hadn't been back to Escaria for quite some time.

Camille wasn't blind to the rest of the group however, nor did she shut herself out as deeply as one may expect. If anything seeing how melancholy Sebastian was becoming gradually spurred her to be more attentive and outgoing, at least toward him. When his nightmare took place, she had tried to ask him what plagued his sleep yet was unable to get an answer from him, which was disheartening yet she understood why the man wasn't keen to pour his heart out in that moment. Camille's routine of traveling, training, and resting continued as they all soldiered on through these war-torn lands.

When they could see the Grey Forest in view, the huntress hung her gaze on the colorless expanse in what seemed to be contemplation. However, her eyes soon fell upon Cassandra as she seemed to struggle with a sudden onset headache. As she observed the vampire, Camille squinted with extreme scrutiny, practically scanning the pureblood for anything else that might be amiss. Once again she found her hand reaching behind her cloak, verifying that the white oak stake still had yet to leave her person and that it was at the ready. If Cassandra were to reach a breaking point, Camille would not hesitate to fulfill her sworn duty.

In time the leering lessened yet did not stop outright, merely relegated to quick monitoring glances leveled at the vampire as they waited for this contact. When Evelyn arrived, Camille performed a quick nod and offered a greeting. "Good to meet you. I'm Camille Giguere," she replied, her voice somewhat flat from what could be fatigue even with the warmer intonation of her words.

 

[K0mori]

As Cassandra seemed to take ill for a moment, Sebastian reached for his shotgun which, as per usual, was loaded with silver shot. What wasn't usual was the slowness and indifference with which he moved, as if he wasn't truly living in the current moment. As the others made conversation with the pureblood to verify her continued stability, he lost interest and turned away, keeping watch on their surroundings.

Stühmold was exactly sort of town that Sebastian spent most of his life living in until he joined the army. It was the "sort" of town because he moved frequently, as a result of his father chasing opportunities that never seemed to materialize. Life moved at a slower pace; he missed that. Regardless, he couldn't allow himself much comfort from his surroundings, as the Grey Forest intruded upon the natural landscape just as the supernatural had intruded upon Sebastian's life. And as he stood there, accepting that the simple and mundane is rarely so, and the fragile veneer can be torn away on any given day, there in the middle of the picture appeared a woman who broke him out of his trance.

She was arrestingly mysterious and beautiful.

"I'm Evelyn Rosenkrantz, and as you can tell, I'm a werebeast. Werewolf, specifically."

"Darüber macht sich hier niemand Gedanken," he replied as he gestured to the odd assortment of creatures among them that Evelyn doubtlessly sensed already, a very but very tired smile appearing on his lips for the first time that day. "...Ich heiße Sebastian Ackermann."

 

[Infab]

"Good to meet you. I'm Camille Giguere."

Evelyn's attention shifted to Camille, her eyes looking the huntress over for a moment. Then, she spoke. "The Raven of Escaria. Honestly, I'm not surprised to see you here. Especially with those two things among you."

As she spoke, her hand lifted to level her index finger on Cassandra nearby, then Azathor. As she finished, she lowered her arm back to her side, before looking to the next person that spoke. Sebastian.

"Darüber macht sich hier niemand Gedanken... Ich heiße Sebastian Ackermann."

Evelyn's eyes seemed to relax, and a faint smile appeared on her face. "Es ist eine Gewohnheit. Manchmal denken die Leute, ich sei ein Dämon, wegen der gelben Augen. Ich verabscheue Dämonen, deshalb sage ich, wenn ich mich vorstelle, zuerst, dass ich ein Werwolf bin." she said, with a faint chuckle and a wave of her hand to the side. "Es ist mir eine Freude, Sie kennenzulernen. Ich begann zu glauben, dass ich in unseren Farben kein weiteres freundliches Gesicht sehen würde."

 

[demytra]

"Azathor." The demon prince kept his own introduction brief, so as to not delay any more than they already have been. But he did offer Evelyn a nod as well so as to not be rude.

 

[Breadman]

Constantine shrugged at Cass' excuse. Likely the gauntlet. He had it on for a minute and knew how that thing felt. At least its nothing worse...he hoped. The wraith turned his attention to Riberta's niece. Good to know that the werewolf aura was friendly this time. Should have guessed as it was similar to her aunt's. He glanced at Sebastian as he introduced himself and that boy was wearing his feelings on his face. He actually smiled.

The Raven of Escaria. Honestly, I'm not surprised to see you here. Especially with those two things among you.

The wraith assumed she meant him and Azathor. He was half-right as Evelyn pointed to Cassandra. Either she didn't notice him or she didn't have a high opinion on Attracans

"Howdy." He introduced himself anyway. "Name is Constantine."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Rajko provided assistance whenever possible during the long trek underneath the war's shroud; from dodging around the patrols to evading the caustic attention of the alchemists, it wore down the iron-edged focus. The inquisitor had been awake when Sebastian's nightmares struck and started the war-weary soldier, he could provide no balm to soothe the spectres that hounded his mind, conscious or otherwise. Motes of empathy had occupied his thoughts, tugging at his mind, however, Rajko knew that only he could resolve the dread darkness that clouded his existence now. It was a lesson learned long ago.

As the journey progressed, the inquisitor's thoughts were preoccupied with their accomplishments. His ponderings were flooded with suspicions, from the acquisition of the relics to the slaughter of the Icons so sin-stained, it was dogged by a malicious providence. He would imagine himself in the arch-fiend's august station with his bent proclivities, with the pawns in his palm. It would be easy to conclude that they had been victorious, besting and disposing of his lieutenants is not a trivial feat, except that is what Rajko would do in his stead, sacrifice his stock for an advancement in his schemes. Why would they matter if he succeeds? The inquisitor could not shake the speck of dread clutching in his heart like a thunderous storm: that the former Icon's deception befouled their duty, obfuscating their perception to a grim portent. It bore a sense of helplessness that Rajko allowed to linger, to consider, though knowing that it could be yet righted.

Rajko's eyes slowly surveyed the recuperation, the distribution of supplies by Cassiel's efforts. The filth of war that fractured the lives of the destitute and benign.

Beyond the water's edge, peaked the Grey Forest — a ghastly visage underlining the severity of the reality at Stühmold. But as Rajko's hardened gaze lingered at the multitude of trees that littered the forest floor and jutted towards the sky like spindle fingers scraping the heavens, he felt a peculiar serenity. A paradoxical peacefulness. The tall grass, which lapped at their ankles fully, stilled as the wind died. For a moment, there was nothing as Rajko's hands hid in his coat's pockets.

Just as he was about to relish the sudden calmness, Constantine, like the others, reacted to Cassandra's precipitous ache. Rajko watched carefully as Cassandra's eyes fluttered rapidly. He was prepared. However, he felt the intrusion of that earlier pall that bound to him as though chained around his neck. As quickly as the moment tensed, it relented, tension melting from the very air. His shoulders slumped, Rajko looked away.

A presence sidled towards them, mounted atop an ivory steed. Rajko turned a second before the voice called out, thickened by the Daristeinian accent and the pitched tone. The resemblance to her aunt had been stark, the lineage encapsulated within her features. The others made haste with their introductions, though Rajko noticed the preference for the language amongst Sebastian — seldom would the colours of the nation matter in things such as this. As it came to him, Rajko nodded. "Rajko Sottaks, Inquisitor. Werebat." He answered, affecting a dark trench coat over the little remainder of his inquisitorial garb. "Out of curiosity, is the modification your doing or a different model?" He gestured with his eyes towards the Luger at her hip, allowing his intrigue a moment's breath.

 

[Damian0358]

With a smile and a nod, Xiaòzhou turned away from Cassiel towards the approaching aura, to see that Riberta's niece had arrived. Everyone began coalescing around her to give their greetings, and, not to be one to abstain from such, made his way over.

"Greetings!" the hermit greeted, with a slightly upbeat tone, "Xiaòzhou, nice to meet you," he finished with a slight bow.

 

[Dmaster]

"The Raven of Escaria. Honestly, I'm not surprised to see you here. Especially with those two things among you."

The huntress glanced to who those fingers pointed at, her expression neutral before she put on something of a half smile. This woman seemed to be rather... opinionated, and there was a part of her past self that she saw in the way the word was spat with such contempt. "My reputation continues to precede me, I see," Camille replies with a nod. "And yes, well, we live in interesting times. There are few things I am not willing to do if they would allow me the opportunity to cut Sazak to ribbons."

 

[Infab]

"Out of curiosity, is the modification your doing or a different model?"

Evelyn glanced downward towards her hip, before responding. "Its custom. Higher velocity, more accurate." she stated, "Based off a model I saw not too long ago. It had a stock, while mine doesn't."

She then looked back to Camille, as she spoke.

"My reputation continues to precede me, I see," Camille replies with a nod. "And yes, well, we live in interesting times. There are few things I am not willing to do if they would allow me the opportunity to cut Sazak to ribbons."

"Yeah. When you do that, make sure to cut the pieces extra small." she said, "Easier to feed to the pigs."

Riberta then spoke. "I'd rather just burn the remains. Less of a chance to taint the pigs with his filth." she said, with a chuckle. She then looked back to the others. "Anyway, this is where I leave you. Listen to Evelyn, and be careful going forward."

As she spoke, she walked over to where Evelyn stood. Once she was close enough, she reached out and hugged her niece with one arm before giving her a kiss on the top of the head. "Sei vorsichtig, Evelyn. Kümmere dich um alle. Wir sehen uns bald. Sag Remington, dass ich Hallo gesagt habe und dass ich aufhören soll, so viel von dieser verdammten Schokolade zu essen. Es ist schlecht für ihn." she said softly. Evelyn's expression softened a bit, and she briefly returned the hug before Riberta released her.

Not long after, Riberta vanished from sight, walking off into the distance and vanishing amongst the trees. Evelyn took stock, looking everyone over again before shifting her attention towards Cassandra and Azathor.

"Cassandra Bainbridge." she began, "My aunt likes you, and spoke favorably of you after her return from the Abyss. However, I don't like you. I know the things you've done, and I know of your condition. You're far more of a bane than a boon. However, I accept that I have to work alongside you. Don't expect me to be polite with you, though. Are we clear?"

"Honestly, at this point, I'm not expecting really anyone to like me. So yeah, crystal clear." responded Cassandra, folding her arms.

She then shifted her attention to Azathor. "...And you. You're a demon prince, and you have the same taint my aunt has. Sazak's taint. You're his spawn, correct?" She let the question hang in the air only for a moment, before continuing. "If you're here with a Living Saint..." she said while motioning to Rebecca nearby, "...then you must have done something right. I'll give you a chance, but don't expect me to be polite to you, either."

Finally, she looked to Rebecca. "Saint Witlocke." she said simply, giving the saint a slight nod. Rebecca returned the nod, and gave her a polite smile.

Afterwards, Evelyn glanced to the supplies next to Cassiel. "Once everyone is through resting and stocking up, we'll head out." she stated aloud as she folded her arms. She then looked over towards Sebastian. The same smile she had before appeared again. "Möchten Sie reden, während die Vorräte aufgefüllt werden?"

 

[demytra]

Azathor stiffened on mention of his father, wondering if in the brief moment of tension that passed between the two she would unload on him; fortunately, however, she seemed to give him the benefit of the doubt regardless of his heritage. Rather than test his luck, he simply offered Evelyn an acknowledging nod before moving to where Cassiel was. "She's an intense one." he commented quietly, in confidence so as to not be overheard properly. "Any news from the Abyss?" he then asked, "I'm eager to hear how my men have been doing down there with Lisykna leading the charge."

 

[Breadman]

Off to a great start with her. Two of their company are put under watch, and one of them wasn't him. Granted, one was a demon prince and the other was a pureblood vampire that should have been dead years ago, yet here she was walking among them. For some reason, she didn't take any issue with him or the oni. Come to think of it, Constantine knew next to nothing about him still, yet they were riding together for weeks now. By now he had learned details from many of the people he's traveled with, either willingly or against his will and better judgment (such as Tiloc).

While the prince went to talk with angel boy and the others would talk among themselves, Constantine walked over to Xiaòzhou, packed of cigarettes in hand. "You smoke?" The wraith asked while picking one out for himself. Gut feeling said no, but you never know with some demons. If he can be described as such, "So, what's your story anyway? The rest I picked up on details or can make some guesses, but you're kinda unknown to me."

 

[Damian0358]

With introductions now in order, Xiaòzhou considered what to do next. Maybe he could help Evelyn, though it seemed Sebastian was free to handle that. Azathor approached Cassiel, and if he needed any further help he could ask him instead. As he thought to himself, Constantine strode up beside him and offered cigarettes. The hermit waved his hand, making his lack of interest clear.

Xiaòzhou was surprised by the question though. Ever since Constantine had joined them back in Peltragow, the two hadn't really spoken much. They had just concentrated on the work ahead and that was that. He wasn't even sure what Constantine meant by his story - did he mean his background just as he had told Sebastian, or did he just mean his involvement here? He decided to stick with the latter, for now.

"...I ended up getting involved through the Beaumont Mission, with one of the High Inquisitors recommending I offer my services to the church. I would be chosen by Velin and Cassiel to partake, due to what my services entail, as an Oni Hermit. And I've remained involved since, fighting against the rupture of the status quo that the current Abyss-induced affairs represent," Xiaòzhou put simply, "I've walked upon this realm for around 800 years, and here in Adonia for the past rough century, and the last thing I want to see is it suffer another Age of Darkness."

 

[Breadman]

"The Beaumont mission?" That's a name that rang a bell. Constantine raised an eyebrow and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, he pointed to Xiaòzhouas he asked another question, "You were with those mortals that came down to the Abyss and did all that damage?" He shouldn't be surprised, really. A veteran of that whole affair would be an asset to the current mission. "Shame about the train. Never got a chance to ride it, only look at it as it drove by." He shrugged as he wasn't that torn up about it. He likely would have racked up a huge tab with their bar owners. "What did you do for 800 years anyway? I only got out because my comrade in damnation decided to flip his lid on you, and my demon overlord is desperately searching for something."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou nodded as Constantine reminded himself what the mission was, though then he received the pointed question of what he did for the past 800 years.

"I was only a child, growing up in the west of Northern Redonia, when tragedy led me down my current life. My uncle had been killed while he was out trading with the humans, and in my young rage I nearly got killed trying to find out who had done it. I was rescued by one of the oldest hermits still alive at the time, Shan Douzhou, and have lived outside of oni society since, living with a magically-induced human disguise," the hermit began, as he allowed it to fade briefly for Constantine to see his oni features, his actual skin color was much redder, and in turn, his eye and hair color slightly lighter, before returning to how they were previously.

"...I spent the next three to four centuries under his mentorship and care, until he was assassinated - as hermits who live far past their natural date of passing, nature seeks means to kill us - and I spent the next century by myself. Then, in an assassination attempt against myself, Douzhou's home had been burnt down, and I spent the next century as a wandering hermit, before my nature as an oni was accidentally revealed, and with that, the next century spent on the run as the 'False Hermit'. The shrine master of the land would come to slay me before I convinced him that there was nothing false about myself, and so he took my arm as proof of my death, and arranged for me to flee to Adonia," the oni continued.

"So you could say I had spent in my life in largely solitude, developing my body, mind, and soul, while occassionally helping people on my way through. And you could say I continue to do so to this day..." Xiaòzhou concluded, looking wistfully in the distance.

"The Beaumont Mission would be the first time I had seen the Abyss as 'demonspawn'... it was enlightening," he added.

 

[Breadman]

"Neat trick." Constantine commented on the oni's ability, "Glad I'm not the only one keeping up appearances in order to not spook the living" He realized the big lie he just told as soon as he said it on account of his Abyssall features being obvious. Removing the skin was hardly a surprise to some of the group if they knew what a wraith was due to Royland. "Sorry, keep going." The wraith invited Xiaòzhou to continue his tale. Listening intently as he shared what sounded like an abbreviation of events on his part. He must have told this story a hundred times. Can hardly blame him if he wants to skip out on some details and give the need to know parts to those who asked. "Not counting the tragedy, a better spent life than mine, I'd say." He looked in the same direction as the hermit did. The forest wasn't as depressing as it was, before.

"I take it you were less than pleased to find out what your cousins from the Abyss were like" He pointed to himself, "This is what a merciful one does."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou shook his head.

"In some ways, they're closer to those in this realm than most would likely want to admit," he turned back to Constantine to give a smile, "if the living had the same powers as those in the Abyss you know they would do exactly the same as them. It's not the realm which decides how a people will behave, but the system by which they live by and live in. And those systems can change over time, alter what they constitute... among the many things I learned from my Shadow, that's one of them, and many of the folks we met showed this truth too," the oni elaborated.

"Systems change, and the status quo evolves, and all we can do is work towards ensuring such change is for the better, not worse. So even a 'merciful cousin' such as yourself can truly consider himself such one day," the hermit finished, his smile beaming.

 

[Breadman]

"Heh, I'm no demon, friend." Constantine looked to Xiaòzhou with some amusement, "I'm just a sinner that struck a deal with the first devil that offered him one. The power, the tricks and the tools all come at a price that I've been paying ever since. One of a legion. But maybe things will change one day as you say." He finished off his cigarette and dropped the bud to the ground to stomp it out. "You've been mighty polite in indulging me with my questions, but haven't asked me any back. Is there anything you're curious to find out? S'only fair."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou just chuckled, knowing that his point remained unchanging despite Constantine not being a demon. But when the opportunity to ask back was presented, the hermit scratched his chin.

"...what is being a wraith like?" Xiaòzhou asked, "Royland had shared what wraiths are and do, so I have an idea on that, but as I keep to myself, I don't know much on the 'is' of a wraith," he elaborated with a curious expression.