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Fantasy Behold, the Shadow Lord Returns

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"There's no problem, consider it a gift from King Brontos. This came out of the royal treasury, after all." Japhet answered Thomas before biting into a piece of chicken. "Watching what you eat, are you? That's good, I'd hate for anyone to get a cramp tonight."
Okay, Thomas will have to remember to thank the king later when they get back. He's not sure if this is going to be one long journey until the evil Lord is killed or if it's going to be short, having them return after something is taken care of. "Yes, part of my rigorous training is eating well but also not eating too much. It takes a lot of work maintaining this warrior's body, but I do so gladly in the service of the king and the kingdom in which I live. Not all elves are of the same mind, we are few and far between." He stops talking, noticing how Sir Japhet looks around for anyone suspicious. After Japhet finishes talking about the rooms, Thomas continues. "How did you come to be at your current station?"
 

"To mothers and nuns then. Where would the World be if every scholar stayed wedded to her books, or every girl suffered a husband for a title?"

Raising her ale with a wink for young River, Val just as solemnly lowered the cup only half-emptied with a wink for Sir Japhet. They had the KIng's coin to thank for the meal after all, and having been told the KIng's enemies for their part intended it to be the party's last, Val would humor the man and at least try to restrain herself like the King's representative had asked. But only so far, seeing, no one, including possible spies—like the stringy-haired one she saw their host's gaze go to—could look at Val and an untouched plate without being on their guard. Or Val and an unsoiled sleeve, or a chin that wasn't dribbling grease. And, well, it was hungry work keeping up appearances.

"Sister! Pay attention!" Val suddenly blurted out right after Ruth, the church knight, announced her part of the party's arrangements for the night. Looking to Sir Japhet, and then River pointedly, she returned to Ruth and leaned over in a low voice. "Didn't you hear? His head's getting big enough as it is."

The big northman turned to devouring her steak. Absently wiping her mouth with a forearm wrapped in dark cloth, she stopped to innocently pose the question to young River.

"So. Ever had a girl invite herself to your room before? Were the nuns ever so forward?"

 
River sat with the others at their table but kept his silence. The others were far more experienced with these matters. So he'd defer to their judgement for the time being. There was a possibility of Shadow Worshippers or spies keeping tabs on them. Sir Japhet even hinted at the chance of a demon. River had never seen a demon in the flesh before. His mothers familiars had given him plenty of information on their kind given the firsthand experience some of them got. Yet that could never compete with actually facing a danger in person. Although he was supposed to be the Hero. The thought of fighting a demon unnerved him. Ms Svengalli ( Nellancholy Nellancholy ) did her best to reassure him that he wasn't alone in this. That being uncomfortable with battle was understandable. River shook his head at the prospect. "It is not battle itself that unsettles me, Ms Svengalli.... it is the cost of battle" uttered the youth in a low voice.

Regardless of whether you were fighting brigands, beasts or cultists in this case. To fight is to kill, to kill is to take a life away from those who cherished it. Protection of ones home, a desire for ones basic needs and a hunger for power were all very PEOPLE-natured motivations. People will be people and they will act in understandable if sometimes twisted ways. No conflict simply ends with no loss. Someone loses something, loses someone. It was an undeniable truth of this world. River had accepted this the moment he chose to leave home. He accepted that by the time this war against the Shadow Lord was over, there would be mountains of corpses. Many of those corpses would be inevitably made by his own sword. What their true enemy was doing was detrimental to the entirety of their land. However what it would take to get to him would be their own share of bloodshed.

His thoughts were interrupted by ( RanRed RanRed ) Val's outburst over Ms Ruth ( Spoiled Bread Spoiled Bread ) volunteering to bunk with him and Sir Japhet. Apparently she was alarmed about something or other. River really didn't understand what the big problem was. Ms Ruth was going to join to help monitor him. Her sword would be a welcome sight in the event of an ambush. Then Val asked if a girl had ever come to his room before; with something about the nuns being forward. Forward with what? They were always very nice and straightfoward when he talked to them.

"Why would they want to come to my room? There's nothing there but my stuff" replied an oblivious River
 
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Silhouette - The Huntress
(and Shader - The Mystical Great Cat)

Location - The Inn at Kirara.





SilSml.jpg
ShaeSml.jpg
Yellow eyes lost their lustre and dark lips pursed tightly together.

The explanation from the Knight regarding the poor, sorry state of this abode was less than satisfactory to say the least. How could the surfacers squander such a welcoming grand abode without a House Matron? The day to day upkeep was relegated to just... 'the guy.' Was this with whom the Apex Hunter of the Armeti peoples, the Hero himself and the Hero's Wardens would pay homage? 'The guy' was without Name and thus not even worthy to be spoken from the personal Knight of the Sovreign...? No, there would be no proper greeting from the Huntress on behalf of her own Mother and her people's Matriarch to 'the guy.'

A mere head shaken in disdain was her response to Japhet's offer to 'fetch the guy running this place.'

An inward sucking sound Sil made instead of spitting. In fact, she did not have the stomach to spit; she felt sickened by the lack of respect that surfacers held for their Matrons proper.
'Compromise...' Bah...

"There's no need to address him so highly. We're his party, not assistants. While he may be of the utmost importance, he is still our equal for the time being and should be treated as such." He could completely understand where they were coming from, and it took all he had not to add his own words of encouragement. "If you exalt him so highly, the kid'll get lonely up there."

Silhouette let out a scoffing exhale of air from her nose then leaned closer to the Hero. She spoke low but loud enough for those that had encroached close enough to River to hear, { Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia } "Better Apex Alone at the Top then buried neath All the Worthless at the Bottom...

'Black before Failure,' says Mother dal-Cherise to the Huntress. And now says the Huntress to the young Hero; 'Black before Failure, Silver River.'"


The pair of giant women with equally giant swords had their back and forth regarding who should stay within the Hero's quarters and Sil strayed away from the conversation. She was an Armeti Warrior Daughter proper and no way would she be found in the laying quarters of a male. And even the mere thought of being suffocated up in such a... boxed cage overnight made inhale deeply and exhale in relief as if she were strangled by such a notion.

"The Huntress will find her own bedding. She needs half the amount of sleep that surfacers need. And she will remain in her Billowing Shadow Cloak all the while..."

Shae grumbled softly and made a small whining sound of protest; he knew from what Sil was saying was that he would have to 'sleep' soon. He would need to 'feed' in the Shadow Cloak so as to have energy when Sil slept. But then again... that would mean he would have chance to visit his runner friends in the stable tonight! Big yellow eyes of the mystic great cat lit up and Sil raised an eyebrow at that but made no comment. Instead she turned and yellow eyes glowed softly like new moons as she looked upward and adressed the 'Hero's Wardens': { Dolches Dolches Nellancholy Nellancholy RanRed RanRed Karcen Karcen Spoiled Bread Spoiled Bread Darkbloom Darkbloom }

"...Shader will take first watch roaming this abode of the Fallen Matron's Name. When she is rested, the Huntress will return and continue the watch. If there is any sign of danger, all will know whether it be Silhouette or Shader. The Wardens will know 'The Whispering' and awaken, no doubt."

The diminutive elf then turned and lay a dusky hued hand gently upon Shader's neck, "And thus her Companion will depart from the troupe now. Rest, little brother--"

࿏But Shae wishes to see his big sister's reaction when she eats the surfacer food and drinks the surfacer liquids--࿏

⁂Yet Shae knows that rest is needed if Shae and Sil are to 'mark' the Hero proper...⁂


The massive midnight hued thing sighed then reluctantly nodded.

The little raven-haired thing scratched at his jowls then leaned in and nuzzled his head. She kissed his nose,
^Shader Return...!^

The hide of the mystical great cat shimmered and rippled akin to a pebble being dropped into a pool of black. Suddenly, his form swirled and coalesced back into the pitch fabric of the Shadow Cloak. The rippling flow of darkness reattatched itself back onto the shoulders of the Huntress. It held there, billowing away as if dancing to some ethereal music from the Otherside.

A collective sigh of relief hit the rest of the surfacers not part of the troupe once the huge predator had been recalled. There was a sense that the tension in the air had fallen tenfold and the patrons breathed easier within that relaxed air. Silhouette could not help but feel a pang in her heart for such a reaction. Shader was her life's Companion: fierce, loyal, intelligent... and considerate. The Huntress sighed. It was two extremes he was met by these surfacers: treated like some kind of pet or some kind of wild animal.

Perhaps the Hero would know him better.

{ Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia }
"This troupe has made it to a worthy resting point. The Huntress, her Soul Charged Companion and the Hero may go through a proper ritual to 'mark' the Hero's scent. The mystical great cat will be able to track the Hero no matter the conditions. Again, only if the Hero so chooses.

Once the Hero has settled upon arrangements with his chosen to lay with him in quarters, and after he is properly fed, Shader will be sufficiently rested. Silhouette and he will then be readied."







 
Viza Zeveh
Mentions:

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Viza had decided to busy herself with her own little tasks after Ruth had cast the dice never learning they had been loaded. That was how you played with the future you loaded the dice to land how you wanted. Still loading the dice in a simple game was easy doing the same to the world was a far more complex matter. Even making sure a battle goes the way you wanted could take a lot of set up and sometimes a few do overs. Viza had pulled forth various objects from nothing, a dimensional pocket a hidden tiny space that could hold a great many thing, though nothing alive. The nechnidims were all for her work and sometimes part of her, well spares for foreseen damage.

"To kill you River I do not forsee that event happening though" viza said pulling her mind from her devices to her meal. Food quality was not something she worried about. She often forgot to eat when working so even having stale biscuits to eat was good enough. "Your death is cultists primary goal do try to be alert around even the most innocent stranger"
 

Her try at humor falling piteously flat, Val picked up her cup, and downed the rest of her ale in one gulp.

"Um, River ... what do you talk about when you and your soldier buddies aren't out doing soldier-y things?"

Watching Sil take her turn to share her plans had the Reaver mercenary briefly turning to her own. She was looking at Viza even before the woman spoke, by her reckoning the most sensible choice to share a watchful night with. Or what soldier wouldn't welcome learning of an attack before it happened? Only, as Val sadly reminded herself, her benefactors hadn't put her in with the others to enjoy their protection. Quite the opposite. It fell to her then to pick out which of the party needed the kind of protecting Val had to offer.

Sir Japhet and Ruth were seeing to young River. Val looked left, then right, and finally remembered to lower her eyes to see the top of Svengali's head.

"Erm, Miss Svengali, I didn't take you to be knowin' about battle." Val put forward, smiling weakly, leaning the outsized sword against her shoulder. "How about telling me all about it later?"

 
"It is not battle itself that unsettles me, Ms Svengalli.... it is the cost of battle"

Of course. The young man ( Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia ) had doubtless grown wise beyond his years thanks to his fate as the chosen hero. What was fate, then? Something given unto mankind by the gods, a track that could never be deviated from? Was it fate that gave the hero his calm nature, or could he cast off his duty and his present state of mind like taking off a coat? Then again, he could simply be repeating pronouncements from the clergy and the villagers that he grew up around. Either way, she looked forward to seeing him tested in the days to come.

And of course, the subject of his love life (or the lack thereof) came up, something that he could not address with the same calmness. Ah, the mating dance. A ritual practically every animal species bore in some form or another. It was a casual observation that Svengali had made during her research that one of the marks of civilization in a species was their ability to choose anything but the fittest mate. Or more precisely, when their biology and social structures had evolved to a point where the definition of "fittest" could no longer be determined absolutely. Surely, the notion that any human might fall for River supported that theory.

As the conversation proceeded, the stout barbarian woman ( RanRed RanRed ) turned her attention to Svengali and expressed curiosity, to which Svengali was more than willing to respond. "I assure you, Val, all my experience in warfare is involuntary, not undertaken by my own initiative. But among the kingdoms of men and other folk, there have never been a shortage of those who find barbaric value in my most refined work." Slightly raising her uncovered hand, she let Val watch as one of her fingertips calcified into a fine needle that could drip with venom, should she intend it. Just to highlight her point. Her tone turned wistful. "To mend the broken. To break the whole. Or to make the whole...something much more. Some of them paid in worthless gold, others with materials and lore I sought. Still others...attempted to hold threats over my head." For the moment, she refrained from pointing out that the king who commissioned their current expedition did much the same. "Of course, one of your stature hardly needs my help. But if it's stories you want, I'll certainly share them with you as the moon rises."
 
River was confused on what Val was insinuating. However his attention was soon grabbed by Ms Silhouette stating that the ritual to have Shader remember what he smelled like was ready. Although most would feel uncomfortable at the notion of getting close to such a ferocious looking creature. River had grown up among the spirits, some of whom could look even bigger and scarier than Shader. Watching the way he returned to Ms Silhouette was an amazing feat of magic, one that his magic deficient body could never pull off. "I hope Shader sleeps well" stated the youth in fluent Elvish. His ability to speak the tongue of elves was due to a demonic crow spirit contracted to his mother. Trading food to the infernal avian scored River some lessons in speaking other languages. There weren't any elves in Oakveil, a predominantly human settlement. However something like the people he wanted to talk to not being anywhere near his town never stopped him before. Though this wasn't the only surprise that night. River wouldn't be able to tell due to his inability to make use of magic. However the spellcasters in the party would be able to see motes of shadow, tiny spirits of darkness gather near him when he treated Shader with the proper respect.

"Mostly they made fun of me for supposedly taking things too seriously even though we lived in the middle of nowhere. Frankly I think they didn't take things seriously enough. The Royal Knights had to pour through hundreds of different maps just to find where Oakveil even was. Which definitely proves that we wouldn't get support in the event of a disaster" remarked a sighing River to Val before his food was brought to him. He had ordered quite a few plates as his appetite could get pretty voracious at times. Thinking on what Ms Viza was saying about the cultists wanting him dead made him contemplate a few additional hours of training before bed. River wasn't anywhere near where he felt he needed to be with regards to his own skills.

BuggaBoo BuggaBoo Karcen Karcen RanRed RanRed
 





Silhouette - The Huntress
Location - The Inn at Kirara.





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Boots and gloves off, wrapped up in a dark sarong and with long bangs pulled back with hairclips, she made herself presentable for her meal. Hands and barefeet pressed at the ground after her small dance ritual was complete. The Huntress then whispered her code, creeds and prayers as she touched each of the 3 braids dangling loosely from her temple and forehead. When she was ready, she knelt at the coffee table before her plate of food and goblet of drink.

She cared not if the surfacers stared at her; this was how she was raised as an Armeti proper to respect and be thankful for what may be provided to eat and drink. Also, she had invoked the will of the Matriarch with her dance ritual; it was a honour to be in this abode that fed her and the Matriarch's will should grace such a place. Surfacers sat and ate too far up from the ground, the Armeti tradition was to be closer to the earth when it was time to eat. So rather than explain her methods and traditions, she just did what was natural to her and what felt right. And so the Huntress found it most comfortable to eat kneeling at the coffee table despite eating alone.

it felt strange to eat without having the meal pre-portioned and stranger yet for a Matron to not lead the meal processions, but again; 'surface with the surfacers.' Regardless she had nodded to each in her troupe despite her bias of them all eating out of order. When she finally came around to eating, she tried to hide that for each new item, she would timidly taste it first before taking in a mouthful. And should Shader have been here, he would have been very, very pleased to see his big sister actually enjoying the surfacer food in this abode!

Silhouette did have a very sensitive palatte and for the most part whenever she ate surfacer food she found it overseasoned with too many flavours as if they were trying to hide the natural flavour of the dish. But here, they seemed to keep true to what it was supposed to taste like without too much enhancement!


"Hail to the Matron's meal..."
said she beneath her breath as she took another bite of the chicken; little did she know it was not over seasoned nor excess in flavourful due to the inn not having copious amounts of money to spend for such excess spices and herbs. But still, the kneeling Armeti was actually enjoying her dinner experience at the Kirara Inn.

Yellow eyes then glided over to River and the memory of his respects to her little brother popped up fresh in her mind.


"I hope Shader sleeps well" stated the youth in fluent Elvish.
Needless to say she was shocked when he had spoke to her in fluent Elvish. Sil herself did not have a full grasp of the surfacer elven language, the Armeti would not be composing complex romantic poems from it, however, she did speak it competently enough to have a conversation. But to save face since she had not spoken it in a while and did not want to sound foolish in front of the surfacer elves proper here, she just nodded graciously with an extended blink of her eyes.

It was when Crescent, her spirit guide, had whispered into existence and 'swam' around the silvery-headed youth that she had perked up. Apparently almost immediately, 'The Whispering' one had deemed him worthy of treading upon the Way of Shadow. A good omen. A very, very good one indeed.

Suddenly she paused eating her food as her eyes took on a moonlit glow.


Cres.jpg
⁂Huntress. I see you. You made a bargain to have the scent of the Hero spirit-marked by your Soul Charged Companion.⁂


Silhouette nodded at her Spirit Guide, Crescent as it manifested upon the coffee table for none to see nor hear save her.

⁂Huntress. Then you do know the risk of what you are offering to this chosen surfacer.⁂

Silhouette sighed shaking her head slightly.

⁂Huntress. Matriarch will know of this in time. I cannot hide that from her.⁂

Silhouette nodded slowly.


⁂Huntress. You have chosen the land then. The Way of Shadow is no longer in the Armeti domain alone.⁂

Silhouette nodded once curtly with much affirmation, eyebrows knitted together.

⁂Huntress. The Hero has been 'scent' from but a 'smell' town I just want you and Shader to 'nose' that. Find him in the Way of Shadow then...⁂

The puns were horrific but still, the diminutive elf's eyes lit up like full moons. She pressed a hand to her mouth but little did that do to smother the bubbly giggles from escaping her lips. When she was done, she regained her composure and continued her meal as if nothing happened at all.

When Sil finished her meal, she wiped her hands and mouth with the napkin and placed it squarely on the plate. Hands were folded neatly in her lap after she had adjusted the setting so it was proper and waited for the servants to collect the dishes. She nodded graciously at them and held out her hand for them to kiss it 3 times. When they just shook her hand, it took all her strength not to strike them down where they stood. Sil did manage to keep her composure and just grit her teeth as she rose.
Compromise... Still the Armeti's eyes burned wicked, lit up and shaped like crescent moons as daggers stabbed into the back of the unsuspecting servant.

A deep breath she took and an extended exhale she let out. No, her mood was not ruined. In fact, she traipsed on over to the rest of the troupe with a soft shyness in the hint of a smile pulling at her dusky lips.


"Sooooo... do surfacers dance right away after their meals, or do we wait to dance until just before slumber time...?"








 
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"I was contemplating having two people accompany the hero so that he could sleep the full night, but if you insist then that makes my decision easier." Japhet replied to Ruth, before turning to Thomas. "I'm glad that you have a good training routine. Back during my days as a gladiator I kept myself on quite a strict routine as well. The results of which were seemingly so fruitful that a young Prince Brontos recruited me to be his personal advisor on an entertainment outing. Funny, considering I seem to remember losing that match, actually." He said before chuckling at Val's questions and laughing at River's response. "Well, it seems we won't have to worry about our friend River here falling to some kind of seductress." He physically relaxed as his companions spoke amongst themselves. Seeing as his lunch was done, he thought about putting his helmet back on, but decided against it to feign weakness to the man watching them.

Japhet gazed around the table. It seemed that his companions had finished their lunch. "So, I trust you've all had your fill? In that case, I believe we should head to our rooms and settle down for the night." He rose from his seat and began to lead them up some stairs, and pointed down a hallway. "As I said, we're splitting up for the night. Me and Ruth shall attend to River, the rest of you can go with whoever you wish. The only restriction, as I said before, is that I want at least two to a room so that we can keep watch while still getting rest. Watch out for bugs, I saw a few in the dining hall." His implication was clear. Even though they had a merry dinner, they were still here to trigger and counter an ambush from their fervent foes. No reason why they couldn't have a little bit of fun before hand, though. "Should you encounter our foes, shout. We'll have someone to hear you in every room." The groups split up to their respective resting place.

Entering one of the rooms, he did a thorough check of the room before anything else, and began to speak after confirming nothing was wrong. "River, your duty here is to get a good night's sleep until you are needed. Although it may seem as though you could do more, this is imperative to our plan. You cannot stand watch, seeing as you're their target. Perhaps they know you are the hero, perhaps they don't. It's still a risk that cannot be taken. You'll have a chance to prove yourself soon enough, son." He turned away from younger man and began to speak to the biggest person in the room. "Ruth, you and I shall switch watch midway through the night. We'll be sharing the same bed, alternating rests of course. Do you have a smaller weapon? It'd be best to have one in a small and enclosed building." He grabbed a short sword from around his waist and offered it to her, hand on its blade. "You don't have to take it if you don't have a secondary weapon, it's just an offer." After either handing it over to her or sheathing it again, he thought for a bit. "Would you prefer to take watch first, or second?"

 
Ruth
Location: Kirara Inn

As the party bicker with each other, Ruth gradually took a few step backs and observed everything from some distance. She's fine with one on one interaction but wasn't too confident with talking in big group. It felts... strange. Or she's probably the one who was being strange, she spent too much time alone that now she even forgot how to interact normally, but at least she managed to secure her position with the hero.

When the dinner ended and everyone went to their respective room, Ruth followed suit and entered hers. She nodded in agreement as Sir Japhet urged the hero to take a full rest and let them handle the night watching. Considering they already know that the party would rest here, it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume that they already know the hero's face.

"Appreciate your concern, Sir Japhet." Ruth lifted her hand to dismiss the knight's offer. "But I already have my own weapon for a place like this."

As if to demonstrate it, Ruth lifted both of her arms and clenched her fists. The gauntlets that covers them made a bit of clanking noise as the metal hit each other. She also showed him a small knife tucked on her belt as an emergency weapon for her.

"You two should go sleep now. I will take the first watch."

Dolches Dolches Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia
 

At first, Val's blank expression was doing little to reassure Svengali's cryptic reply wasn't mostly going over her head. Other than raising an eyebrow at points. But as the much more petite woman spoke on enigmatically about working, mending, and making, the northman suddenly went from grinning politely to blinking in astonished comprehension. Openly gaping as Svengali ended.

"I never... you don't really look like the kind to—" She began to explain haltingly... before gripping the tabletop to steady herself as she gushed, wide-eyed. "Oh—oh! Yes, please, I'd love your stories. It never came to me we had so much in common."

Then she took in River's answer to her probing over why the young man apparently had no hint what men and women did when there wasn't something else to occupy themselves.

Mostly they made fun of me for supposedly taking things too seriously even though we lived in the middle of nowhere.

Blinking, the broad-shouldered woman leaned back in her chair, threw her head back, and laughed out loud.

"... Soldier, that was the whole point of it." She said to drive it home. Then slumped back in the same lazy, unhurried manner she had carried herself the whole evening. At the side of others duty-bound to brave a quest from which they had little hope of returning. And shook her head as she smiled at young River mysteriously.

"Bit of advice, if you think people aren't taking this sort of thing seriously when they talk this way, you've got a lot to learn."

Content to take in the rest of the dinner quietly, she stood and stepped behind Svengali when Sir Japhet showed the party to their rooms. Ducking to keep the pommel of the outsized sword from bludgeoning the doorframe as she entered, it was very quickly plain to see the weapon would be a difficult proposition inside the premises.

"Picked it out himself he said...." She snarled in the direction Sir Japhet had left. Mulling silently, the considerably taller woman spun abruptly on Svengali. Brown eyes moony with anticipation.

"Erm, Miss Svengali... hey, what kind of swords do you make? Do you have a smaller one to lend for the night? It is swords, right? I hope you didn't mean crossbows, because you... kind of look like a crossbows person—aherm, sorry for my babbling, it's just.... I'm still getting over my surprise. I never took you for another weaponsmith, ma'am."

It seemed all Val could do to keep from rushing over to smother little Svengali in her arms as she babbled on excitedly. Briefly taking breath as she squinted at Svengali's fingers inquisitively.

"But what are the needles for, where do you keep them?"

 
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River really did want to protest that there was so much more he could do at the current moment. However he knew Sir Japhet had a point. If he wasn't rested, he was of no help to anyone. Less like a Hero and more like a walking target for those Shadow Cultists. So he decided to obey orders for now and get some sleep. Sitting on his bed and drawing his sword. He stared into the River reflected in the blade. Anxious, uncertain and lost. It appeared what he felt on the inside was so easily seen on the outside too. Sheathing the weapon and laying it against the side table. River lay back and did his best to close his eyes. He chose to sleep with his gear on so he'd be ready in the event of an attack. A cold wind blew outside, causing the trees to dance about in the gale. Ms Ruth would take first watch. She seemed really strong to River, so he was happy to have her watching over he and Sir Japhet while some sleep. Struggling to enter the realm of dreams at first. River soon found himself drifting away into unconsciousness.

Darkness...

All River saw was shadowy void as far as the eye could see. The only sound he could discern was that of his own heart beating in his ears. His throat was incredibly dry as he gulped in nervousness. Shapes began to form right before his eyes. At first they appeared to be amorphous blobs of pure darkness approaching him at alarming speeds. Soon the blobs morphed into far more humanoid forms with red eyes that glowed like fireflies. Taking a few steps back before booking it. River had no idea what was going on. If this was some kind of nightmare, he'd very much liked to have woken up by now. However the pounding in his chest felt real enough that River didn't want to see what would happen if those things chasing him caught up. He didn't have his sword and no back up weapons. Magic was out of the question for a dud like him. Looking over his shoulder to see if the shadow creatures had given up the chase. River felt an impact that knocked him onto his rear end. Raising his head to find a bone chillingly familiar pair of red eyes staring down at him. A searing hot pain spread throughout his shoulder as the creature pierced it with a shadowy tendril. This hurt unlike any kind of pain he'd ever felt before. Piercing, burning and headache inducing all at the same time. His vision faded in and out as he desperately tried to remove the tendril. Soon he felt his body begin to numb, vision darkening completely.

SHING

The sound of steel filled Rivers ears as he felt the pain in his shoulder disappear. Falling onto his back and breathing unsteady breaths. He tried to get a good view of what was happening. Looking around as his eyes tried to regain their clarity. River saw a slender figure standing in front of several piles of shadowy goo. More of the shadow creatures attempted to attack the stranger but they held out their hands, a pair of blades flying into their hands. As if moving a knife through butter. This mysterious savior vanquished the monstrous blobs with little effort. When the final creature died to the skilled swordsman. River saw the two swords morph into what looked like ravens. The stranger turned to River, revealing their appearance to be a female elf. She looked quite a bit like Ms Silhouette but also very distinct.

"When the Beloved One requires the services of this long-gone Sword-Singer... merely call my name"

River awoke in a cold sweat, his heart ready to burst from its chest. Turning to see Sir Japhet still sleeping but Ms Ruth standing guard. A hand was placed over his chest to try and still his beating organ. Unfortunately the experience he just had made him all too sure that such a thing could not be a dream. Some kind of attack by the Shadow Cultists? Maybe even the Shadow Lord itself had tried to fry his brain while he slept. All he knew was that if that Elf Lady hadn't saved him. There was a chance he wouldn't have woken up. He wished he could have thanked her at the very least.

Dolches Dolches Spoiled Bread Spoiled Bread
 
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The barbarian woman's demeanor had shown a sudden turn as she all but grabbed the smaller being in her arms, seemingly passionate about hearing about her "weapons" and the stories of the past that Svengali had promised her. Of course, she wasn't quite on the mark there, but Svengali wasn't one to condescend or disappoint. Not right now, anyway.

For a split second, Svengali's joints seemed to turn to fluid as she bent and slipped out of Val's grasp, before landing on the bed sat upright. "My, quite the mood you've gotten into, I see." She thought about crossbows. Recalled her hand's tendons and bones unraveling and folding back, forming an arch and string. That was an old experiment, more of a proof of concept really. If you wanted to hit someone that wasn't in arm's reach, there were much more efficient ways to do it, least of all having a longer arm.

"You see, young one, I could certainly be called a forger or builder of sorts. But it is the mortal body that serves as my furnace, my anvil, and my ore. So some call me a healer..." She wondered what kind of shamanistic traditions the Reaver clans up north still practiced for the palliation of illness and injury. She had not yet gotten a chance to visit them in the current age. "...but I do not claim such a title for myself. Your people know the value of a honed body and mind, and I simply...enjoy testing the limits that seem to be placed before both. If you placed me before a forge I could make you little. But if say, you desired a sword..."

She reached into her sleeve, her smile dry as she produced a small vial containing what looked like a small, curled-up gray shrimp. A parasite that could burrow straight to the bone and would leech calcium to form a wickedly sharp extrusion through the bearer's flesh. "...feed this with yourself, and I promise you a blade keener than any that a blacksmith could hammer." She did not actually hand the vial over.

"Why, even the shields of the Halbergs could be rent by such a weapon..." She certainly didn't miss an opportunity to praise her own work. As for the story she was about to tell, she deliberately picked the name of a clan that used to be much larger in past generations, but had been significantly diminished. An infamous, marauding clan that used to hold a large chunk of the northlands, almost certainly having subjugated or warred with the clan Val hailed from at some point. And no doubt were the targets of innumerable grudges...

"I hardly think that their craftsmanship had gotten any better, now has it? After all, they're still paying for their foolish ambitions. Having conquered much of the north, they firmly set their sights on the continent. You would think their longboats would have had trouble landing on the coast considering the emplacements built there by the Garlean Theocracy, but in their audacity they entrusted themselves to their gods and advanced on the night of a great storm..." She closed her eyes, recalling the battles of a few generations ago. "...their fleet was smashed, but enough of them landed, red in tooth and claw, to begin their conquests. The Garleans fought back valiantly and took the Halbergs to a standstill over months, but they were still enough to cause a great amount of collateral damage unless killed to the last viking. So King Lanius of the Theocracy (the current Pope's grandfather) called out the Halberg chief...Leif? Laukr? Some such like that, my memory fails me." Svengali chuckled.

"The king challenged the chief to single combat, and the laugh he gave as he accepted the challenge was quite the thing to hear...I daresay his flaming red mane burned ever brighter as he bellowed. And you know, King Lanius wasn't quite as good a swordsman as he believed. The duel was ferocious, dragging on for hours. But the chief was the one who wouldn't falter. Until then, I was content supporting King Lanius by treating the wounds his men suffered. But now I chose to act. Before Chief Laukr could take Lanius' head off...I intervened, from a distance. With a prick from a dart no deeper than a mosquito bite...the chief's flesh grew as red as his glorious beard, and it ruptured. And so on that day the Garlean Theocracy and the continent beyond was saved...and I allowed them to think that the wounds Lanius managed to inflict simply caught up to his opponent. The ground that the Garleans still walk on today would not have been kept without me."

"I could have held the truth and his debt to me over his head...but I didn't. And what does his grandson repay me with? A nice stay in the dungeons for 'witchcraft'."
Svengali pursed her lips, childishly blowing a raspberry. "Far more honor in the blood oaths of your people..."

RanRed RanRed
 

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