Fantasy World of Gea: The Greatest Adventure [IC] [CLOSED]

[EdwardDewey98]

"I'm always scared when it comes to revealing what I am, madame... The thought of one of these fine folk deciding to try and lop my head off with a sword or axe has crossed my mind a few times. Others have tried before, of course, but... you never really get used to it."

"I... I imagine it must be hard, seeing good people suddenly change their entire demeanor because of your nature." said the scholar as the Jester looked at the ground between them. "But don't worry, I'll try my hardest to make this easy for you and everyone." She added before Devereaux explained that the half-Orkney, Kat, knew of his nature already and was likely to defend him should the company become rowdy. "That's good." she said before Devereaux continued speaking.

"...I'll try and make my case to them all, if I can. Hopefully they'll listen and give me a chance."

Cécilia tried her best to give Devy a reassuring smile but all she could muster was a look of uncertainty. Half the company was Eranoirain and most were religious. "I'll be honest with you monsieur, making your case will not be easy. Most members of the company are Eranoiran and are part of the Church of Gaia... and even those that worship the Cult of Gods are not exactly fans of the Vampyr Pantheon of the East." She said, knowing full well it would plant further doubts into Deveraux, but she had to be honest with him. "But... it's not impossible, you have many allies, and I hope that those that belong to either the Church or Cult show their sympathy for you." She added while petting the Jester's shoulder. "Either way, you have my support, that's got to count for something, oui?" She said with an awkward smile on her face.

"Well... certainly! There are plenty of large families with two men together - why, it's practically tradition! - I don't suspect there is much issue in them being human or not, or anything. We Minotavurs certainly aren't like those... disagreeable folk from Waterham. Usually. Well, to be honest, sometimes, but not everyone!"

Paulin's eyes were glowing at this point, his legs and arms trembled as Petrocles fondly talked about the more open minded views of his people. The young Eranoiran's heart was beating like never before, for he had a chance! All he had to do now is muster up the courage to ask the Minotavur if he would be interested in him.

"Do you have a crush on someone? I'm no priest but I can help you speak with them, if you need help."

"I... I do have a crush on someone." He said as his eyes looked directly into the Minotavurs. Not far from them, Gsera and a few others stared at the young Eranoiran and the Minotavur. "Holy Hel, he is actually going to do it!" said one of the company fighters. "Hmph, ten denars that he will chicken out last second." said another company member, the Dverger known as Hrongar. "Hah! Make it 15 denars and you have a deal." said the human fighter as Sera and the others watched expectantly. "I really... really l-"

"Everyone! I need your presence immediately." shouted Cécilia as she stood outside her tent.

"Merde, ça ne peut pas attendre!?" shouted the peasant boy as he looked over his shoulder, but he did not realize that Cécilia heard him. "Who said that? Paulin? Paulin, I am still the head of the expedition, and when I need everyone, I mean everyone!" she said while looking over the crowd to look at Paulin, who meekly looked away in frustration. "I need everyone around the campfire as soon as possible, I have something important to discuss with you in a moment and it's of extreme importance." She said before heading back into her tent. "You heard the chief cartographer, everyone." said Alberto as he stood up. "Come on, you can continue talking tomorrow!" he ordered before walking into the tent.

"Does it have to happen tonight?" asked the old knight as he approached Cécilia and Deveraux. "We can't delay this any further, monsieur." responded Cécilia as she prepared herself. "I'll call the wizards in here first, then we will have the talk with the group." she said before patting the Jester on the shoulder again. "Tell me when you are ready Devy."

 

[Infab]

"Either way, you have my support, that's got to count for something, oui?"

Devereaux smiled. "...Yes, it does. And I thank you greatly for it." he said, before standing. He followed Cécilia, as she stood herself and stepped outside her tent to announce for everyone to gather together.

The shout from Paulin earned a chuckle from Devereaux. He must have been in the midst of something rather important. As Alberto moved over and into the tent with Cécilia, Devereaux followed behind and stood alongside Cécilia as he spoke with them.

"Does it have to happen tonight?" asked the old knight as he approached Cécilia and Devereaux. "We can't delay this any further, monsieur." responded Cécilia as she prepared herself. "I'll call the wizards in here first, then we will have the talk with the group." she said before patting the Jester on the shoulder again. "Tell me when you are ready, Devy."

Devereaux sighed, before nodding. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, madame." he replied.

In truth, he wasn't ready. He was never ready for something like this. Revealing what he was to others. He wasn't a mind reader, but he knew what would soon be running through the heads of the others. And the question of his trustworthiness would be brought up from now on. Whispers would pass through the company about him. He'd have to ponder every second of every day if people were being truly honest with him, or hiding blackened thoughts of him and what he was.

"...Call Kat in as well, when you gather the wizards. She should know what is about to happen. And ask her to fetch my satchel as well. She knows what it looks like." requested Devereaux. His grip on his mask in his hand gently tightened. No no, Devy. You're not running. You're going to man up and take this.

​

"T-Thank you very much. It's not every day that someone does something kind. Showing me magic is a special gesture to me, even though it may seem simple to one such as yourself."​

Malthara smiled, as she lowered the ball of water to the surface of the lake and let it disperse. "If you'd like, I could show you more sometime. I'm more than happy to share what I know of the magical arts with others." she said, returning to treading water for a few moments. She... seems quite lonely. "...And if you need someone to talk to, I'm always available. I know how it feels to be alone... I summon elemental golems to speak to at times while traveling. Sounds odd, I know, but I do enjoy having company." she added afterwards.

"I need everyone around the campfire as soon as possible, I have something important to discuss with you in a moment and it's of extreme importance."

Malthara's attention shifted back towards the camp, as she heard Cécilia call out for the company to gather up. "Well, we should do as she asks." she soon said, before swimming back towards the shore where her clothes were. When she arrived at the shore, she moved from the water to the bushes, where she used the end of her cloak to dry herself as best she could. She then clothed herself quickly, leaving her hair damp and slicked back but tied into a loose pony tail. Once she was done, she moved to where Nora was. "Let's go find a seat... and some food."

 

[Vexumin]

The small woman made sure to keep her eyes away as Malthara made for the shore, even if there were bushes in the way and preventing her from seeing anything she shouldn't. The sorceress was right though. The small woman could hear the commotion of the camp, a call for all to return to its fires for one reason or another. Nora takes a deep breath in through her nose, preparing herself to walk back towards the group. She couldn't help but jump as Malthara emerged from the bushes. She was just caught in thought and that tends to make her jumpy.

"Let's go find a seat... and some food."

Nora nods her head at this. Oh food. When was the last time she had eaten? She looks down towards her stomach for an answer, a small and soft hand resting upon her belly. There was a light growl that emerges from her rather empty stomach and thus she had her answer. "Oh. Yes. It's been a while since... food." Though the half-gnome wasn't really picky, there are certain camp foods that she simply was not a fan off. Gruel being likely the only one that she will willingly pass up. However, as the two grew nearer to the camp. the smells promised a good meal. Nora almost couldn't help but drool in hunger, but she made sure she kept her fluids to herself.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

It had been a few, awfully quiet minutes after Cécilia had gathered everyone in the company to the campfire. She had abandoned her tent for a moment to speak with the company sorcerers of the situation at hand, they seemed shocked, one even appeared to be quite disgusted, but they all eventually nodded as she walked back into the tent. This only stoked the flames of rampant curiosity among everyone in the company.

After a few minutes of silence, Cécilia, Alberto and Deveraux emerged from the tent, both leading figures had a serious expression on their faces as they looked at everyone in company. It wasn't Cécilia who broke the deadly silence surrounding the campfire, but the Dverger Hrongar, who attempted to lift the mood a bit. "Well, who is getting sacrificed, eh?" he said while looking at his companions, some chuckled, the rest remained quiet as Cécilia's expression remained unfazed.

​

"I've gathered everyone here for one reason, there is something all of you need to know." Cécilia said while her eyes slowly looked at every single member of the company. "I am not one to dally when I speak, but I want to ask everyone here to... to have an open mind to what I am about to reveal to you." Everyone looked at each other, some appeared to be nervous, their gaze shifting violently between Cécilia and Alberto, others appeared to be impatient and some even annoyed to be around the campfire.

"Devereaux... is a... a Vampyr." she said as nearly everyone's expressions shifted. Some looked surprised, others look horrified, and a few looked enraged. "Now before any rash a-" Suddenly, a group of men got off their seats, pulling out their swords, axes and maces. "Oh, for the love of Gaia, sit down right now!" commanded the scholar as she faced the armed adventurers. "Have you lost your damn mind, mademoiselle?! We should be killing this damn thing before it even tries to do something." shouted a warrior as he pointing his axe at the meek Devereaux. "Silence! You've all have been travelling with Deveraux for nearly a month, you've been dancing to his music and enjoying his company, he has not harmed a single soul in this company, we would have known! So have the decency to hear him first!" She commanded as Alberto pulled his own sword out to protect the Vampyr from any overzealous companion.

"No! You really lost your mind!" shouted another warrior. "Vampyrs are deadly, wicked fiends! I served under hunting group once, looking for their kind, I have found entire villages decimated by their kind. They are monsters, even more vile than the most wicked Fachan or rapacious Cockatrice, they feed on Wer and Helwer as if we were nothing more than cattle! Whatever words he will spit out will be honeyed and enthralling, he will try to convince us he is a kind soul only to wait for the opportunity to lead us into a Vampyric den!" Suddenly, one of the Skæglin Barbarians travelling with a company let out loud, violent chuckle. "Ye were not complainin' when ye were dancin' to his music before, boy! But now the bat shows his fangs and ye act like ye belong to the bloody church!" he shouted with a deranged grin on his face. "Let the lad speak, he's been a good companion, has the passion of a Skald!" he added, much to the disgust of the warrior.

"Of course the fucking HEATHEN would come out to protect a creature that emerged from Nyarlaexedum's rotten dick itself!" shouted the warrior, his face becoming more read with each word he shouted. "Please, children..." the soothing and calm voice of the Meleissian Monks caught the attention of everyone. One of the monks, a portly friar who proved himself quite a fearsome warrior despite his advanced age and size, started to speak with a calm, serene tone in his voice. "Once upon a time, a pious man was bitten and convereted into a Vampyr, driven by desperate hunger, the Vampyr had slaughtered a Wildebeest that was owned by the local tribe leader in the city of Hiret. They were about to kill a pious and kind man for his new nature, who had purposefully chosen to slaughter an animal than to slaughter a man. - Saint Melek, who happened to be in the town, stood in front of the council of Hiret to defend the Vampyr and said these words "You've lived and walked alongside this man for many moons before his corruption, you know of his zeal, his love for the Goddess but most importantly, his love for his fellow man. You who believe and carry the justice of the Goddess, I ask you to remember of true kindness and love, for this man, despite being corrupted by a potent malady, is still a man deserving of love", I believe that we must listen to Deveraux, he deserves the love any other living being deserves."

A few people nodded after the Monk told his opinion on the matter, but it was clear that most in the company were unhappy. Before the angry warrior could speak again to spew his violent hate, Alberto spoke, silencing him and any other desidents trying to speak. "The monk is right, we need to listen to Deveraux, he deserves to have a word." said Alberto while looking at the angered adventurers. "Devy... please speak..."

 

[Infab]

Devereaux sighed quietly, as the monk spoke up in his defense. Suddenly, I feel like reading up on the saints. And soon enough, it was time for him to speak up. "Ladies and gentlemen...no, my companions in this expedition. My friends, on this journey of journies..."

Devereaux soon removed his mask again, pulling back his hood to reveal his youthful visage. He ran a hand through his hair, his bright green eyes looking to the others before him. "Its best I speak to you, without the mask. You deserve an honorable face-to-face explanation." he stated, handing Cécilia his mask to hold.

"...My full name is Colinus Devereaux. I am one hundred and twenty seven years old. The story you know of me already, a humble harlequin turned adventurer, is true. My father Gracien did die from the Brick, as well, but... that was over a hundred and thirteen years ago." he began. "...My mother Ascelina was, indeed, in the picture. She was a kind, caring woman... Beautiful, intelligent, talented. She and my father were quite the pair. But when he fell ill with the Brick, she was at a loss over what to do...and this lead her down a path you can figure out quite quickly."

"In an effort to save my father from the Brick, she researched different methods and remedies. Desperate to find a way to save her one true love. And as the disease progressed, she grew more... mentally disturbed in her search. She happened upon a group of vampyrs, of the Nachzehrer bloodline. There are... various different vampyr bloodlines, but I don't really know much more than surface level things. Anyway, she made a deal with one of them... and became a vampyr herself."

"She... attempted to turn my father. Maybe she thought that the Brick hadn't progressed far enough. Maybe she had already lost her mind. I... I don't know. But it didn't save him... and he died shortly thereafter. It was in the years following, during her grieving, that I believe a thought popped into that corrupted little mind of hers. What part of my father was still here? Still living, breathing..."

Devereaux's eyes drifted to the dirt before him. "...Years later, long after my father's body had been burned and his ashes were scattered across the countryside, my mother snuck into my room one night. Her eyes burning red, like this." he said, before blinking. His bright green eyes had become a hellish glowing red as he looked back up to the others. "...And she cursed me with this."

He blinked again, and his eyes returned to their bright green. "... After surviving the curse and becoming... this creature before you, I departed from our home. I wished to get as far from my mother as I possibly could. Nothing she could say or do would convince me to forgive her for turning me into a creature of the night. I travelled the realms, for one hundred years, going from job to job. Still entertaining people as a harlequin and actor, and doing jobs as a hunter and adventurer. My enhanced abilities helped a bit, thankfully."

"... I'm not going to lie to you... I have drank the blood of my fellow man. Marauders and bandits, those that would seek most dead if only to line their pockets with ill gotten goods. But that was decades ago, and I do not actively seek to drink from others. When I encounter other vampyr, I purchase vials of blood. Enough to last me a few weeks at most. It keeps cravings at bay, and I stay alive."

"... I wanted to tell you all this because I didn't want to keep secrets from you. You're my companions in this adventure. I want you to be able to trust me, like I do all of you." said Devereaux. "I have done this sort of thing before. Most... tended to take things the way some of you did. I understand the hatred. Believe me, I do. I'm some kind of blood sucking monster. But I'm still Colinus Devereaux too, and I'm trying to be a good man. I'm trying to make people happy, and make a little coin on the side. Maybe even see the world and discover new cultures. If I'm cursed to live forever as this, I can use it to do a little good... right?"

He took a breath. "... If you want me to leave, I'll leave. I'll pack my things, and I'll depart right now. You will never see or hear of me again. Ever." he soon said. "...But I genuinely care about all of you. I want to help. To be part of this."

He then went quiet again, eyes looking about to the others before him. Waiting for an answer. A question. Comments. Vitriol. Anything.

 

[Dmaster]

The skull-faced mage had been standing with the others, no bowl of food in hand and having no desire to sit himself on the ground before they were all ordered to gather outside of the cartographer's tent. Not having any pressing matters to see to, he had no reason not to attend. Upon hearing the announcement from Cécilia and the bickering that followed from the company members, Gawain visibly rubbed his index finger to the side of his bare cranium with confusion. Perhaps there was a time where he would have detested the thought of traveling with some crazed vampyr, but somewhere between losing his face and being asleep for over a hundred years he outgrew such an aversion.

To that end the undead wizard was capable of sympathizing with Devereaux's affliction, the soldiery's reaction to his desire to join the expedition when it first began still fresh on his mind. It was easy for Gawain to be rather apathetic to the views of others, as he tended to focus on his work rather than win over hearts and minds more often than not. People were quite often disappointing, whereas the trials and tribulations of arcane studies gleaned many lessons in its successes and failures alike. Still, the wizard could tell that telling the entire company like this meant something to the harlequin, as there would be little reason for him to be doing this grand gesture and regale everyone with the tale of his turbulent past.

"Personally, I fail to see the problem," Gawain spoke up as extended fingers made a cage over his dead heart. "Vampyr can indeed be ravenous, insane individuals in a variety of circumstances but so can any man or woman. What have you to fear from the jester, exactly? Do you expect him to sneak into your tents and devour your necks? Please..."

His hand transitioned to behind his back where its counterpart grabbed it by the wrist, the wizard spreading his feet somewhat as he searched for the best words to state his view. "Those of you that are upset by this development seem to forget the purpose of this expedition. We are to chart the entirety of this world to the best of our ability, moving far and wide to places that have never been seen before, in search of wonders undiscovered. A true and grand adventure to some, surely." A pause left him before he took a moment to lower his hood, revealing his slightly yellowed skull to the company.

"Yet many a wonder is concealed by countless horrors, some horrors are even wonders in their own right - and I can attest to that, believe me." His hood being down is hopefully enough to convey the meaning behind his words. "As we just encountered with the Hobs of Waterham, blind ignorance can be quite detrimental indeed. For what is to come, I can see Devereaux's condition being more of a boon to this company than a curse. This should come as no surprise, considering that I too bring fortune to us through the use of the remains of... deplorable individuals. Please, ponder on everything before you would remove someone who has done no wrong to us so far, hm?"

 

[Breadman]

The camp fell silent. The trio of bards who always would use any excuse to play a tune, now dared not pluck a string. The sisters now looked among each other unsure of what would happen next. Would they company stand with Devy or would they descend on him like a pack of wolves. They were together with him but a few days, while others traveled with him for a month now. Olga's eyes traced to Alberto. She didn't want to be in his place. Whatever would follow, he would have to control. Holga's eyes were glued to the other knight. Ser Waylond gave off the aura of a man who chases after any skirt, but that seemed fake somehow. Now there was something else on his face. He was serious and looking towards Devereux, but unlike the contempt in the warrior's face, Ser Waylond looked pensive. His hand usually would be around the hilt of his sword, but now both were crossed firmly behind his back. What was stopping the chivalrous knight from taking up arms against a vampyr, she wondered.

Volga was looking away from where her sisters were. Instead she looked towards the woman they met. The self proclaimed barbarian and guardian stood next to her short friend with the bushy beard, her hands balled into fists. Something had stirred a fury in her, but there was no way the cambion could guess what it was. She could only stay and follow the barbarian take a few steps forward. She could feel a pang of fear about what would follow. From Sentry, from the company at large and for Devy.

"You..." Sentry spoke, her voice heavy as she approached Develeux "...blasted jester..." She extended an arm in an quick fashion. Whatever some were expecting to follow likely shocked them as her hand found its way around Devy's side and pulled him closer, the other one hooking in him in for good in her embrace. "You blasted theatric obsessed fool!" her tone was different now, calmer almost laughing. She let him go eventually after a few moments, but kept one hand on his shoulder "If I believed you were what they say you were, I wouldn't dare be near you, let alone entrap you." She turned to the rest of the company, eyeing those who called for violence "If he wanted to feed on us, he would have done so already. There were many chances both on the road and in Waterham and yet nothing of the sort happened. Master Gawain is right and deep down in your soul you know he is." She now stood with her back to Devy and fully facing the company. "But should any of your still cling to your fear and hatred and wish to act out, I can't talk you out of it. But..." She cracked her knuckles as her arms shifted to their stone form. "I am not going to let you lay a finger on him without paying a price."

 

[Elenion Aura]

Calocis sat close enough to the other members of the company to still enjoy the fire’s warmth, but not close enough to risk contact, let alone conversation, with any of them. The day's labors had been exhausting enough, what with that half-elf's interrogation earlier. The imprint of his hand on Cal's back still stung with the impropriety of his unwarranted touch. Still, since then he'd had something to eat. His days of fasting were now over. It had come as a kind of acceptance. Despite the quiet of his God, he still needed to maintain the dark altar of his body if he wished to be of any use to Nyarlaexedum and his ineffable will.

With his cloak of shadows wrapped tightly around his slender frame in an effort to shoulder off the chill of the evening, Cal met Cecilia’s fleeting glance with a gaze of his own, trying to glean some insight of what thoughts swirled behind those eyes of hers. Some small, paranoid corner of the dark elf's mind thought, This is it. The reckoning. They were preparing to oust him from their Company, mark him as Enemy. And they would be wise to do so... At best, Cal envisioned they’d let him leave their encampment with his life, under pain of death should he ever return… Though he would not have balked if they instead decided to execute him on the spot, out of fear of the Great Elder Darkness he served. They are correct to fear, Cal thought to himself, reminding himself albeit briefly of his Lord's Dark Majesty, if only to quieten the flutter of his heart within his breast as he prepared to flee for his life, if it came to that...

Suddenly on edge, a suspicious Cal let his gaze wander in turn to each of the other faces around the fire... Hm... Perplexed, Cal wondered if he might be inventing threats where none existed. After all, if they knew what was coming, they did not let it show on their faces. Curious, he thought, and found himself leaning ever so slightly forward, sharp ears pricking to hear what was so important that the leaders of their company had gathered them all here. He was leering at one of the sellswords when she at last let the hammer stroke fall.

"Devereaux... is a... a Vampyr."

At once, Cal’s eyes snapped back to the front of the column, first landing on the scholar who'd spoken the word before his gaze found its way to Devereaux himself. A Vampyr, hm? Curiouser and curiouser...

Then came the uproar.

"Hmph." Cal couldn’t help but smirk, scoffing aloud at the murmur that fell over the crowd following a sudden, violent outburst from some of the more plain thinkers that filled their ranks. How typical. They fear that which they do not understand. But Cal understood. He had read of the Night Creatures, studied long their Veiled Lineage in the Lukrirh—the Night Library, a vast, subterranean archive of the hallowed and the profane… Cal knew well the curse, and the boon, that was the Vampyr's insatiable bloodthirst. It was said to have been a malediction of Nyarlaexedum himself, bestowed firstly upon twelve of His most loyal thralls. The legends say that the twelve were forever changed by His tainted touch, becoming the first Great Vampyrs, from which all spawns issued. They were fearsome creatures, borne of the same Night that had birthed Calocis... Though his kin, they were not. Even so, he had not expected to find one of the Nightkin here, in this place. Cal eyed Devereaux curiously, wondering at what manner of creature this was that stood before them?

The sound of his lord’s name—one of them, anyhow; the one most likely to pass carelessly from the lips of fools and dullards alike… Why is it that those who know precious little of what they speak often squawk the loudest?—being uttered with such irreverence by one of the Company's warriors chilled Cal’s blood. The Dökkálfar marked the man’s face, the one who’d dare blaspheme so openly… This man needn’t fear a Vampyr’s fang with a shadow dagger piercing his heart… Though, thoughts of retribution would need to wait. After all, Cal found himself somewhat surprised to learn that he actually wished to hear what this Vampyr had to say.

It was... A surprisingly personal tale. Cal didn't know what he'd expected, though it hadn't been this. It was all quite mundane come to think of it. As he gazed at Devereaux—watching bemused as his eyes shifted from green to red, to green again—he found himself wondering if he knew his Lord. His True Master... Given time, and opportunity, Cal would like to teach him. And if that were not reason enough to stick up for the Vampyr—as a fellow Creature of Night—Cal could not ignore the faint halo of moonlight that shimmered around the harlequin. Twas the same glow that had bade Cal to save the Half-Rakshasa woman... The same glow that he'd spied encircling the half-elf's head like a crown of silver. The sign that he'd followed ever since Waterham. He could not afford to let Devereaux, a bearer of the this starlit grace, leave the Company. Cal knew not the meaning of it yet, but it was a sign from his Lord... These people, all of them, had been chosen for a glorious destiny in Darkness. None would escape it. Of that he would make certain.

"All men are monsters. Didst thou not know?" Cal rose to his feet as he spoke directly to the warrior who'd previously derided the name of Nyarlaexedum and cursed Devereaux in the same breath. He had looked to Cal as if he would speak again, in spite of the Stone Barbarian's warning. "Wherefore dost thou fear?" Cal paused then, raising his voice, addressed the warriors of the company at large. "I had not marked you—from whom the shadows of Wateham fled—base cowards, quivering in the light. None of you wouldst endure the face of True Darkness, if this fledgling curdles the blood in your veins."

 

[Beann]

It had been a couple of minutes since Cécilia had gathered the company around the campfire, keeping them all in suspense. Kastalli could only imagine that the lady had plans to properly introduce the new members to the rest of the company so she waited patiently. The conversation that she shared with Ser Alberto earlier was still fresh in her mind but she tried her best not to dwell on that topic, for she feared her eyes would begin to water again. Kastalli took a deep breath to quell her emotions, glancing from side to side to make sure no one was particularly paying attention to her.

Luckily, they were all focused on Cécilia as she, Alberto, and Devereaux emerged from the tent they had disappeared into several minutes ago. Her tail swayed from side to side, reading their serious expressions with a growing curiosity. She was starting to think that this gathering was not a formal welcoming party for the new members. Just like the rest of the company, she listened intently to Cécilia’s words, her tail swaying even more in curiosity at what she was about to reveal to the rest of them.

And then her tail froze in place.

Devereaux was…a Vampyr?

Kastalli’s gaze shifted to Devereaux as several company members broke out in anger and disbelief. It would seem a lot of them were against their traveling musician now that his secret had been revealed. The half-Rakshasa couldn’t help but wonder how that would change anything though? Devereaux was still Devereaux!

Ser Alberto managed to silence the more angered adventurers, encouraging them to at least listen to what Devereaux had to say in his own defense. He spoke of the tragedy of his parents, and how he exactly became a Vampyr. Her eyes started to swell once more as her heart ached for her friend but also at the fact that she felt like she would have done something similar in his mother’s position. Kastalli too loved her husband dearly, had they recovered his body then…then she may have gone to any extreme to save him or bring him back.

She shook her head out of those thoughts though, right now the focus was on Devereaux! Her tail whipped back and forth as she waited for Gawain to finish speaking, she had a few words to say too! However, before she could speak up, Sentry decided to go next in defending Devereaux. Okay — she will go after Sentry! To her surprise though, Calocis also spoke up — well, in a more confronting manner to the warrior but the message was still there.

Kastalli took a quick look around the company to make sure no one else was about to speak before quickly making her way up to the front, taking her place on the other side of Devereaux.

Using Motherly Voice: People in the range of Kastalli’s voice are oddly soothed & calmed. Defusing escalated arguments and bolstering morale.

“Hello, everyone!” She blurted out nervously, the realization that all eyes were on her had quickly hit her. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I am sure you all know me as the lady that chimes the bell — or the lady that adds Shigese herbs to the food to strengthen the flavor — uhm, anyways —! I am also the lady from Skæg. It is no secret that my people are known for raiding, pillaging, and uhm — a lot of other vicious actions! So — for those considering Devereaux to be a monster just because he is a Vampyr, then I suppose I am a savage for being a Skæglin, right?”

“No, of course not — why would that make sense? Please do not punish Devereaux for the actions that were not his. He did not choose to be a Vampyr but he has chosen to be a talented musician, entertainer, and most importantly — a good friend. Please do not allow fear to sway your opinion, Devereaux is a strong asset to our company. Just as Gawain is with his extraordinary knowledge and Calocis’ new perspective on religion, everyone here contributes to the company — so — please do not discredit Devereaux because of his background.”

With that, Kastalli bowed her head politely and offered Devereaux a quick hug from the side before rejoining the rest of the members.

 

[joshuadim]

After having watched Paulin's attempt to confess his feelings to Petrocles suddenly be interrupted by the announcement to gather from Cécilia, Gsera turned her attention to the matter that was developing as she continued to finish her food. It was a rather delicious meal as she savored each bite while darting her eyes around with both curiosity and confusion. What could warrant such commotion or necessity for the whole company to hear? Perhaps it was a surprise of sorts? Or maybe news of something that benefits everyone? Gsera felt anticipation grow as people gathered around at Cécilia's behest.

However, it was neither of such things as it soon became clear as to what exactly this was about. Gsera was at first shocked by the revelation and completely stilled with her spoon in her mouth, soup remaining atop her tongue as she listened intently. First to Cécilia's words and then to Devy's own explanation and story. She dared not make even an ounce of noise as this was discussed and progressing. What made Gsera afraid however was the immediate reaction coming from some members of the company who saw fit to draw weapons almost immediately afterwards. She worried for her friend but she also didn't understand why they would just... turn on him so quickly? Wasn't he a friend? She didn't know really anything about what a Vampyr meant or what exactly it entailed for Devy, but she wasn't about to allow him to get hurt. Maybe it was just all a misunderstanding?

One by one, members of the Company, Gsera's compatriots and friends, spoke up in defense of Devereaux. Speaking words of wisdom and calming to do their best to try to prevent anything violent from occurring, and once Kastalli finished Gsera felt it was right to speak up. She put down her bowl of food and quickly walked over to where Devy stood and faced the mob of angry members as best as she could yet she was visibly quite nervous at this prospect. Yet she had talked to many of these people before, they were good people at heart and maybe they could be reached out to?

(Friendly Demeanor: Due to her friendly nature, Gsera receives a +2 bonus points to Persuasion Rolls.)

Gsera cleared her throat and straightened her posture in order to gain some additional confidence before finally opening her mouth to speak: "I... admit that I don't know much of anything about what a Vampyr is, or what it entails. But I do know what Devy is." she spoke before giving a quick look to the jester before looking back at the crowd, "A friend. Full of life, and happiness, and joy that he shares! His music and his dance is what brings joy to our travels together." She then looked at each of the angry faces within the company as if to gauge their attention. "Do these times of joy not mean anything to you that you would throw it away over... this?" she then asked, "Does such bonds mean nothing that you would throw them away at a whim about this? What does that say about your own friends? Or to the people next to you?"

"Back in my home, having a friend meant something greater than just being there for them. It also meant you had their back, through thick and thin. And having left my home to see the world, I was alone and without anyone. For a while I traveled without anyone having my back, it was scary. It was scary that I had left all that behind for something that I had no idea about, nor having any idea about what I was getting into. But then I came across... this." she motioned to her surroundings, "All of you. And Devy was one of the few I could speak to and enjoy being around, and build my own bonds here. And that, to me, is everything. I will stand by my friend, even if you won't." she then finished, firmly planting her feet where she was next to Devereaux. She was on the verge of crying from the frustration she felt from this situation, from the malice that had been directed towards her friend. But she quickly wiped them away and put on as brave of a face as she could for Devy.

 

[Zillamaster55]

Anija felt a heat begin to roll through her. Devereaux, Vampyr or otherwise, was a trusted party member. Something began to claw at the back of her mind. She felt angry. It felt angry.


"Do...something...friend...guides us...cannot lose him. Cannot...lose...guidance."

Her fists clenched as she slowly rose from her chair, glaring at the warrior. Her eyes darkened.

"Hateful...hateful...like villagers...in past...to...us...stop...him. Any...means...necessary."

She slammed a hand on the table. "ENOUGH" she screamed. She jabbed a finger at the warrior and then at Cécilia. "I will hear no more of this. The rest of the party has made their case, and now it is time to make mine!"

Her right began to twitch as she muttered something through clenched teeth. Embers began to swirl around her fingertips, and a soft reddish light glowed from her palm. "I will not stand idly by and watch a good man be thrown to the wolves. Vampyr? Perhaps. But a damned trustworthy one. He is no monster. I refuse to let you call him that."

The embers grew brighter until her hand was wrapped in a hot ball of fire. The flames licked up her forearm, though mysteriously, her robe refused to catch alight. Her eyes began to turn a deep red. Teeth still clenched, she flashed a look to all of Devereaux's accusers. Her voice darkened. "Back down. Now."

 

[Roda the Red]

After his lovely conversation with the seemingly just misunderstood priest. Syll went on to seat among the many mercenaries, positively excited for the meal ahead, his wait however was cut short, but not by a warm bowl or platter, but with an announcement from his dear employer, the scholar Cécilia.

Wasting no time and without embelishing her words, she dropped a pretty shocking bit of truth: Devereaux, the wandering acrobat and archer who's joined been with them since the very first day of the company's forming, was in fact a Vampyr...

Just like many other mysterious, terrifying and wondrous things, Syllannan had read of these creatures from books, more especifically from biographies written by heroes of the past. Vile and bloodthirsty creatures who had surrendered their humanity in order to attain great power and immortality, as well as constantly attempting to drag others down into their world of shadows and temptation. He's... almost never read of them as anything other than evil creatures to be eliminated by the great heroes, Syll unconciously clenched his fist in frustration as he was deep in thought.

Quickly after Cécilia, Devereaux stepped forward and gave his own words, he spoke about the truth of his origin, of his family, and of his journey which led him to this point in time. This was Devereaux, the man Syll has talked to, sang and danced with, and even fought beside with, could it really be true? That whatever comraderie he's felt from him all this time was just the trick from the honeyed words of a creature of darkness? Or perhaps, there was honesty in him, just a misunderstood being cursed by causality.

Just as the half-elf's mind continued to be clouded by doubt and hesitation, some of his peers proceeded to step up in defense of the jester, such as the wizard Gawain, Sentry, Kastalli and Sera, one of the new recruits even jumped to an unexpectedly aggressive threat, and CALOCIS of all people did as much. But ultimately, their words had reason, and biggest of all, empathy.

Syllannan walked towards Devereaux and proceeded to reach for his holstered battle axe, but with a quick twirl of his wrist, he rotated his body, giving his back to the jester, and firmly placing the axehead against the ground, both of his hands resting atop of the end of the handle. He looked behind his shoulder, staring at Devy, and gave a calm smile.

"You proved yourself to be both a friend and an ally time and time again, to me that matters more than whatever runs through your veins".

He turned his head forward once again, silently yet stoically holding his stance in front of the company mercenary. No words were necessary, after all, what could he possibly say that his companions haven't said already?.

 

[FloweryMuffin]

He had to think for quite a long time in order to give Anija a proper answer. Spells a witch should always know…At some point during his musing- a great question did that young woman come up with for him indeed- his bowl of soup has been forgotten somewhere on a log near the campfire. Perhaps Korzhev was imagining in his head as time passed by the year, when in reality there had been no longer than few minutes that have gone by. He still had found nothing to say to her, but there was no longer any need for that, because their conversation was cut short by Cécilia’s announcement. He spared Anija a final thought though, he wondered what brought about the sudden changes in, the airiness. He hoped it was herself who was talking to him.

It was revealed to them their resident jester, Devy was in fact, a Vampyr. How curious. Suddenly it made more sense why he never got to see the man never ditched his mask. A pity that was, since much like the other members of the company, the gods had taken care to bestow him with one of the more attractive faces that he could’ve had. His interactions with the jester had been limited, if there had been any in the first place. Even still, there was not one bad thought that came to mind when he thought of Devereaux.

He listened in to everybody’s thoughts. To Korzhev, the situation was fairly simple. There was no point in judging his nature now, after such a long time spent among them.

Korzhev left his spot next to the campfire to sit himself next to one of the hostile mercenaries at the front.

“Now now, is it truly within your best judgement to demand mister Devereaux be chased away now, after so many nights of performing? Which, I am quite sure you had been drinking along to! And cheering! If he were a creature of evil, well, he wouldn’t be singing now and you would be dead in a ditch somewhere, young man!” he stopped briefly to take a breath before continuing his little rant, “I must have to ask you to put those weapons down, unless you wish for me to do it for you!” Korzhev raised his staff threateningly.

Finally, he turned towards Devereaux.

“Now, my thoughts aren’t all that complicated, mister! I must agree with the folk here that if you wished to kill us, perhaps you would have done so many moons ago! I should hope that in your quest to find yourself a purpose, it finds you soon enough! There are still many lands to see and many secrets to discover and this old man would be happier if you were to ever be in our company.”

 

[Vexumin]

There was something about the gathering crowd that had drawn Nora's attention, especially the silence and tension slowly ramping upon each other until it was likely nigh unbearable for some folk, but the cambion took advantage of the silence, slipping through person after person until she reached the ever growing scent of food. Though she was often a dignified lass, if she could help it, hunger was always something that she dd not cope well with. There was a little gluttonous monster behind those dark eyes, and it was clawing its way to the surface. Without her usual trove of good meals set aside for when the hunger settles in, she had to act quick.

She finds the source of the scent and helps herself to a rather large portion of what was available, clutching her bowl as if it was some manner of grand treasure, wielding her spoon and fork like weapons in her clenched fist. She scampers off towards a small spot a short distance from the gathering before she settles down. Finally it was chow time. By now the people had started to become rowdy from whatever was announced. Nora had been fetching her food by the time what needed to be said was said. From what she could hear it was a lot of anger, but soon enough she started to catch on to the topic of conversation. Vampyr, eh? Well, that certainly was a new one for Nora. She has never before seen a vempyr with her own two eyes... as a matter of fact, she knew almost nothing about such creatures other than an obsession with blood.

Though she had really only been with these people a day, she knew that she could trust their thoughts about the man who revealed himself to be a vampyr, It was the same fellow that Kat had considered a good and kind fellow. Someone that she knew well enough. Nora believed that she could trust this Deveraux, not that she had a reason not to trust him in the first place. Honestly, the reveal that he was a vampyr did not bother her in the slightest, even though it probably should, with her being half a succubus. Does that make her blood more appealing to vampyr kind? Surely not... she hoped.

Nora scoops up another spoonful of what she had in her bowl, still listening in. She was impressed with a lot of this company. Their openness and kindness. Though there were some that were a bit easy to frighten, Nora knew that everyone only had the best for each other in mind. She couldn't help but grow a bit more excited to travel beside these people, though in this moment she felt that she should keep silent. It was not her place to comment on another's species or... cursed race? Even if it was in good faith, it was better not to create any more tension by having the half-demon side with the vampyr. Even though that's what she really wanted, she only wanted the situation to go smoothly. Besides, she was eating. Didn't want to have that be interrupted.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Petro gave Paulin a hardy pat upon the back as they strolled towards the gathering, which seemed to have the air of an emergency meeting of some sort. "Don't worry about it, you can tell me all about it later," he chuckled.

He joined the others in the crowd as the little meeting went under way, arms crossed and standing well over a head taller than most. Back home a crowd like this could be mayhem - too many elbows and horns, as his father often said. In the same space it took a Minotavur to stand, three entire humans could be smushed unhappily together. At the very least, Petro remained mindful of those near him. He might not be one getting pushed around, but if he so willed it, he could clear a very comfortable island of peace around him just by buffeting his arms out.

Petro frowned as Cécilia began to speak - her tone was rather foreboding and he was beginning to worry there was a serious problem at hand. And in a way, there was.

The quick outrage from some in the nearby crowd over the reveal that Devy, their wonderfully talented friend, was a Vampyr nearly toppled him over as the energy surged through the press. His blood ran hot as their cruel words were spat out without thought or care, and his hands twisted into fists. He knew many a tale of Vampyrs and what they were capable of, how many were strange, eccentric creatures, or outright monstrous beasts. As if they were unique in such barbarity! Devy had been with them for so long, there was no possibility that he was evil. Few were capable of such bold-face lies and deceit, and if he was truly masquerading among them only to cause pain, then he would be one of legendary depravity. Petro did not believe for a moment their kind-hearted jester was such a foe.

As quick as some were to hurl hatred, others were swift in the defense - perhaps swifter and more clever than the frothing farmers ready to conduct violence. It was almost laughable. They knew not what they said, nor suggested. If they were so fearful of a Vamypr tearing them limb from limb, then they should be fearful of him doing the same. If a Vampyr could somersault through the air and trapeze upon their shoulders with violent grace, then he could wade through the crowd like a light surf, lift anyone up, and skip them like a pebble upon the water's surface.

Everyone's impassioned defense stirred him. When Kastalli spoke, much of his anger was abated, his tense shoulders relaxing as he sighed at length. A spell woven into her words, perchance? It made his mind a bit clearer - he was much less inclined to slap any of those braying fools across the crowd on the back of the head now. Anija on the other hand was like a spark again on the dry grass - her magical demeanor was murderous.

"No more of this nonsense," he bellowed. "Have some of you drunk too much tonight already? Devy is our friend, he always has been. You act as if vampyr means something special. Others have said as much, but I will make it certain like stone. What you are, the lands you tread, the gods you pray to - these do not determine who you are. Even you fools over there, sharpening your axes and lighting your torches already, are more than just dirt-squabblers. Our brothers and sisters from Skæg are not all reavers of the coast, come to pillage. None of you fear what they can do. What of you lowland and highland knights? Have you not seen villages emptied and towns ground into dust for your banner?" Petro shook his head, rather irritated. "What of me? You think me ignorant of my own history? My kind have toppled kingdoms and carved a bloody scar into history. None of you dared say I have no right to be here. Or is that the point - only when someone appears weak, you think you have the upper hand to become a ghoul? Shameful. I see no warriors, I see only cowards."

Petro let out another long sigh, a practical bull-like snort. A year ago he couldn't even speak this language, now it only took some proper heat to temper his words.

 

[Woffy]

Abasi knew what was about to come the moment Cécilia had gathered everyone. He tried to give his bardic friend a reassuring smile when the jester stood in front of everyone as the scholar spoke. However, once the secret was revealed to the rest of the company, Abasi watched in disgust as some members were advocating for the death of his friend. Luckily for the Vampyr, many allies emerged from the crowd to defend the poor jester. Each one giving their argument against the wild ravings of the angered warriors. After Petrocles had argued in favor of the Vampyr, Abasi stood up from his seat before approaching his friend, still smiling.

Abasi then stood next to Devy first looking at him and then at the rest of the group "I would never wish you to leave for such reason, but if the rest decides so I will leave with you, I do not care to judge you for what you were forced to be, but who yourself choose to be like... and you have shown that you are someone we can all depend on." He then placed a hand on his shoulder giving him a smile. "So what if you have to do some difficult things to survive? I believe most here myself included... have gone trough our own share of hardships just to be here, be it things we had to do to ourselves or to others yet malice was never in our intent".

 

[EdwardDewey98]

​

The company fell into uneasy silence as Devereaux told his tale. A tale of disease and sorrow that ended in a terrible way, with a mother, blinded by pain and madness, infecting her own son with the curse of Vampyrism. Even those who wanted Devereaux to be killed or expelled could not help but to feel even a smidge of sympathy for the Vampyr. But of course, the story fell into the deaf ears of those who wanted the most violent of outcomes.

(Undesirable: Devereaux receives a -1 penalty to company-related rolls.) (Deveraux's Defense: 1d10-1 = 6) Still, one of the warriors that had pulled his sword to attack Devereaux put it back on it's sheathe. The virulent warrior that was leading the movement against the Vampyr took note of this and started to talk once more. "If the tale you are telling is true, Vampyr. Then you have my most sincerest of apologies. But the moment you found out you were infected with this curse, you should have done the right thing - stand in the middle of a field and let the light of Azaru take you." Cécilia couldn't help but to scoff at the suggestion. "You insane buffoon, you wanted him to burn alive under the sun?" she asked with an incredulous tone to her voice. "I've met real men and women who've done it, just to save their souls for the curse." with a huff, the scholar shouted once more. "You are telling him that he should have killed himself right after his own mother infected him, don't you realize how awful that is? It was his own mother that infected him." The warrior did not respond, he just kept staring at the jester with murderous intent.

Silence engulfed the campfire once more as the company stared at Devereaux. No one knew what was going to happen, were they going to try and kill the man? Who besides Alberto and Cécilia would defend him? The virulent warrior looked at those who had gathered behind him, it appeared he was gathering silent support from his companions should he jump towards the Vampyr - but then, the silence was broken, none other than by Gawain.

"Personally, I fail to see the problem, Vampyr can indeed be ravenous, insane individuals in a variety of circumstances but so can any man or woman. What have you to fear from the jester, exactly? Do you expect him to sneak into your tents and devour your necks? Please... Those of you that are upset by this development seem to forget the purpose of this expedition. We are to chart the entirety of this world to the best of our ability, moving far and wide to places that have never been seen before, in search of wonders undiscovered. A true and grand adventure to some, surely."

"Yet many a wonder is concealed by countless horrors, some horrors are even wonders in their own right - and I can attest to that, believe me. As we just encountered with the Hobs of Waterham, blind ignorance can be quite detrimental indeed. For what is to come, I can see Devereaux's condition being more of a boon to this company than a curse. This should come as no surprise, considering that I too bring fortune to us through the use of the remains of... deplorable individuals. Please, ponder on everything before you would remove someone who has done no wrong to us so far, hm?"

(Undesirable: Gawain receives a -1 penalty to company-related rolls.) (Gawain's Argument: 1d10-1 = 8) Those against Devereaux looked at each other in pensive silence after the undead wizard had spoken. Another warrior sheathed his blade as the leading warrior rolled his eyes. "Boon? Is that what you call your unholy abilities, wizard? You... you are a despicable being, not because you are a wizard, but because you think it's right to strip the soul of our enemies, for what? Give us undead minions that must hold in cages on the wagons? or watch as your little ghastly lover wanders around in ethereal pain? I was able to look past these things for the mere fact that you are a master wizard and not entirely insane, for the sake of this company! but a Vampyr? That's something I cannot overlook." said the warrior while pointing his axe back at Devy. "Don't forget people, he is a monster! Whether he became one voluntarily or not is now irrelevant... many undead never choose to be what they are."

Some took heed of the warriors words, they had seen the horrors a Vampyr was capable of, but once again, the silence was broken by the booming voice of woman. Sentry, who started to approach Devereaux, some thought that she was going to attack him, defend the company from what could be a future threat, but then, she embraced the Jester. Many looked at the the barbarian with confusion until she turned around to face the company.

"If I believed you were what they say you were, I wouldn't dare be near you, let alone entrap you. If he wanted to feed on us, he would have done so already. There were many chances both on the road and in Waterham and yet nothing of the sort happened. Master Gawain is right and deep down in your soul you know he is. But should any of your still cling to your fear and hatred and wish to act out, I can't talk you out of it. But... I am not going to let you lay a finger on him without paying a price."

(Aunt Sentry: Sentry receives a +1 bonus in company-related roles.) (Sentry's Argument: 1d10+1 = 11) Sentry's powerful voice and threatening disposition was enough to calm down some of the other hostile warriors, but her generally well seen image also made the younger adventurers in the company sit down. They knew that if she was defending Devereaux, it must be for a good reason. While most of his allied had been intimidated by the warrioress, the leading warrior did not even flinch at the threat. "I do not wish to hurt you, Sentry, but if it comes down to it, I will." He said, almost unfaced by the fact she was a powerful Runeseeker, it made sense, he appeared to be a veteran warrior. "Stop with this nonsense, Berchar! You'd have to cut through both Sentry and me to even get to Deveraux - experience or not, the odds do not favor you at all!" shouted Alberto, pointing his sword at the warrior, whose grip on his axe tightened after realizing that the knight was correct. But the tension that was building up was suddenly broken when the soft-spoken Kastalli interjected.

"All men are monsters. Didst thou not know? Wherefore dost thou fear? I had not marked you—from whom the shadows of Wateham fled—base cowards, quivering in the light. None of you wouldst endure the face of True Darkness, if this fledgling curdles the blood in your veins."

(Undesirable: Calocis receives a -1 penalty to company-related rolls.) (Calocis' Argument: 1d10-1 = 6) With the rising tensions, some of the warriors gave the dark Elf murderous glares as he made a riducule out of them, but some understood what he was saying, the company had helped capturing Belnach and the Tengu assassin, and while they didn't participate in the battle, they were ready to fight the Chort and the cult, why would they be so unnerved by Devereaux?

“Hello, everyone! I am sure you all know me as the lady that chimes the bell — or the lady that adds Shigese herbs to the food to strengthen the flavor — uhm, anyways —! I am also the lady from Skæg. It is no secret that my people are known for raiding, pillaging, and uhm — a lot of other vicious actions! So — for those considering Devereaux to be a monster just because he is a Vampyr, then I suppose I am a savage for being a Skæglin, right?”

“No, of course not — why would that make sense? Please do not punish Devereaux for the actions that were not his. He did not choose to be a Vampyr but he has chosen to be a talented musician, entertainer, and most importantly — a good friend. Please do not allow fear to sway your opinion, Devereaux is a strong asset to our company. Just as Gawain is with his extraordinary knowledge and Calocis’ new perspective on religion, everyone here contributes to the company — so — please do not discredit Devereaux because of his background.”

(Motherly Voice) The warrior and his followers remained quiet as the bard spoke, arguing in favor of the Vampyr, as the finished speaking, most of them had put their weapons away. Some of them looked away, in both frustration and a bit of embarrassment. The leading warrior, Berchar, had also put his axe away, but continued to look at Devereaux with contempt. (Motherly Voice: People in range of Kastalli's voice are oddly soothed/calmed. Defusing escalated arguments and bolstering morale. +1 to her persuasion roll.) (Kastalli's Argument: 1d10+1 = 3) While her words had calmed the company, her argument did not appear to change many minds on the matter, at least not visibly. "You might have a point, Kastalli - but I've seen the brutality of both the men of the wild north and of the Vampyr, and what they can do is worse than anything a Skæglin can do." he said, this made the Skæglin warriors in the company to chuckle out loud. "Heh, want to see how brutal we can get, friend?" said the Barbarian while giving Berchar a devious grin. "Enough with this dick measuring the lot of you, let people speak." said Pepin, one of the most experienced warriors in the company, who seemed to be standing away from the other warriors who wanted to kick Devereaux out of the company.

"I... admit that I don't know much of anything about what a Vampyr is, or what it entails. But I do know what Devy is. A friend. Full of life, and happiness, and joy that he shares! His music and his dance is what brings joy to our travels together. Do these times of joy not mean anything to you that you would throw it away over... this? Does such bonds mean nothing that you would throw them away at a whim about this? What does that say about your own friends? Or to the people next to you?"

"Back in my home, having a friend meant something greater than just being there for them. It also meant you had their back, through thick and thin. And having left my home to see the world, I was alone and without anyone. For a while I traveled without anyone having my back, it was scary. It was scary that I had left all that behind for something that I had no idea about, nor having any idea about what I was getting into. But then I came across... this. All of you. And Devy was one of the few I could speak to and enjoy being around, and build my own bonds here. And that, to me, is everything. I will stand by my friend, even if you won't."

(Friendly Demeanor: Due to her friendly nature, Gsera receives a +2 bonus points to Persuasion Rolls.) (Gsera's Argument: 1d10+2 = 3 | RE-ROLL: 1d10+2 = 9) ( joshuadim runs out of Re-Rolls.) Everyone in the company knew that Gsera was an emotional woman and so, her argument in favor of the Vampyr was heavily emotional. Her words moved a few of those who wished to harm Devereaux, but to those who had already made up their minds about the Vampyr rolled their eyes. "I would expect a Tuatha, out of all the creatures that delve in the Emerald Woods, to hate a Vampyr." said Berchar. "After all, they believe that all of the unliving are an insult to the natural world, isn't that right?" Cécilia scoffed at the question. "Perhaps the Tuatha have a much more open mind when it comes to this sort of issues." Another warrior chuckled loudly when he heard this. "Open minds? In the Eonach Coillte? Hah hah hah! Nonsense, most of them are stubborn traditionalist heathens, but the Tuatha are the worst ones - so mademoiselle Sera here has an unnaturally open mind." he said while eyeing Sera with suspicion. "And so what? Can't she have an open mind? I am a Hob, but I am not as conservative as my fellow Hobs!" shouted Cassandra, who was sitting next to Noradriia and Malthara.

"I will not stand idly by and watch a good man be thrown to the wolves. Vampyr? Perhaps. But a damned trustworthy one. He is no monster. I refuse to let you call him that. Back down. Now."

(Anija's Argument: 1d10 = 9) Suddenly and inexplicably, Anija got off her seat to threatened the crowd who was against Deveraux. Using her natural magics, the witch appeared to intimidate several people, but some of the more experienced warriors were unfaced, and now rather annoyed by her intimidation attempt. But perhaps most surprising for the witch was that Cécilia was also annoyed by this. "Anija, what the Hel are you doing? Sit down! They already sheathed their weapons!" She shouted, unaware of the voice whispering into Anija's ear. "A trustworthy one? You been here for a gods be damned day, witch! What would you know about him being trustworthy?!" shouted Berchar while pointing at Anija. "And shove your stupid magic up y-"

"You proved yourself to be both a friend and an ally time and time again, to me that matters more than whatever runs through your veins"

Before he could finish his sentence, both Berchar and Anija turned to look at Syllannan who stood in front of Devereaux and was now was facing Berchar. (Syllannan's Statement: 1d10 = 2) People took note of this and some genuinely were surprised since Syllannan, while technically a petty noble, was raised like a commoner. Berchar simply shook his head before crossing his arms again, awaiting for the next person to speak in defense of Devereaux. That's when Korzhev's croaky voice echoed from the back of the crowd.

"Now now, is it truly within your best judgement to demand mister Devereaux be chased away now, after so many nights of performing? Which, I am quite sure you had been drinking along to! And cheering! If he were a creature of evil, well, he wouldn’t be singing now and you would be dead in a ditch somewhere, young man! I must have to ask you to put those weapons down, unless you wish for me to do it for you!” Korzhev raised his staff threateningly - Now, my thoughts aren’t all that complicated, mister! I must agree with the folk here that if you wished to kill us, perhaps you would have done so many moons ago! I should hope that in your quest to find yourself a purpose, it finds you soon enough! There are still many lands to see and many secrets to discover and this old man would be happier if you were to ever be in our company."

(Korzhev's Argument: 1d10 = 4) Berchar and his followers simply rolled their eyes as the old frogman spoke. Once more, he brought up the point of Devereaux having several chances to kill the company. While he had repeated something that was already stated, many agreed with Korzhev. "If a Vodyanoy can look past Devereaux's disease, why can't you?" asked Alberto. Berchar didn't respond and waited for somebody else to speak their support for the Vampyr.

"No more of this nonsense, have some of you drunk too much tonight already? Devy is our friend, he always has been. You act as if vampyr means something special. Others have said as much, but I will make it certain like stone. What you are, the lands you tread, the gods you pray to - these do not determine who you are. Even you fools over there, sharpening your axes and lighting your torches already, are more than just dirt-squabblers. Our brothers and sisters from Skæg are not all reavers of the coast, come to pillage. None of you fear what they can do. What of you lowland and highland knights? Have you not seen villages emptied and towns ground into dust for your banner? What of me? You think me ignorant of my own history? My kind have toppled kingdoms and carved a bloody scar into history. None of you dared say I have no right to be here. Or is that the point - only when someone appears weak, you think you have the upper hand to become a ghoul? Shameful. I see no warriors, I see only cowards."

(Paulin's Affection: Petrocles gets a +1 bonus to his persuasion attempts.) (Petrocles' Argument: 1d10+1 = 6) Petrocles went above and beyond, not only expressing his support for Devereaux but to also call the warriors out for picking on Devereaux now in his most vulnerable moment. Some of the warriors looked away in shame, but Berchar now looked furious, he huffed like a bull before pointing his finger at the Minotavur. "What the fuck does a Minotavur know about Vampyrs? Do you have any idea what they are capable of doing? Does ANY of you have any IDEA of what they are capable of doing?!" he shouted while looking at the rest of the company. "I know what they are capable of doing and yet I still choose to trust Devereaux, monsieur." said Cécilia before turning her gaze over at Abasi, who was approaching Devereaux.

"I would never wish you to leave for such reason, but if the rest decides so I will leave with you, I do not care to judge you for what you were forced to be, but who yourself choose to be like... and you have shown that you are someone we can all depend on. So what if you have to do some difficult things to survive? I believe most here myself included... have gone trough our own share of hardships just to be here, be it things we had to do to ourselves or to others yet malice was never in our intent."

(Abasi's Statement: 1d10 = 10) Even if he was not making a direct argument against those who were attempting to banish his friend, his finals words were relatable to many in the company. Most present around this campfire had to do difficult things to survive. Adventuring is not a life for the faint-hearted, difficult choices have to be taken constantly. Even Berchar looked away in a pensive manner as the young half-Basteti gave his support for his Vampyric friend.

Support for Devereaux: 74​

​

After Abasi took his place by Devereaux side, the campfire was engulfed by unnatural silence as uneasy eyes started at the Vampyr. After waiting a few seconds more, Cécilia tried to speak to the company, only to be interrupted by the swarthy rogue known as Ahmed. "Sorry, ukti Cécilia, but I cannot stand here in silence! The leading team gets to have a word on this but not us?" said the rogue while eyeing Sentry. "I mean no disrespect, I know you've chosen them to be at your side for a reason, but we are as important as them, naem?" said the Kassemidian rogue while crossing his arms. "Aye! Why don't we get to give our opinion on this, eh?!" shouted a lady warrior while shaking her fist at Syllannan. "It's almost like they don't care what we say because we don't have flashy armor, or some strange powers!" shouted a company archer while eyeing Gsera. Cécilia sighed as she raised her hand to quiet everyone down. "Then so be it, give your thoughts! We are a company, the voice of everyone here will be heard." She said while putting her hand on Devereaux's shoulder. "Be strong." She whispered as the company stood up, gathering by the fire. "Well then," said Alberto as he looked upon the company members "Who will speak their mind first?"

• Adventuring Fighters •​

"I'll go first..." said Berchar as he stood in front of the majority of the company warriors, much to the dismay of Cécilia. "Don't look at me like that, mademoiselle, I am not some riled up peasant as some of you paint me up to be, and neither are most of my comrades." He said as he stood in front of the fire. (Support for Devereaux: 66) "Perhaps I reacted too harshly, I believe Devereaux's story and I understand his pain to an extent." he said while eyeing the other members of the company. "But my words do not come from blind zealotry like some of my comrades, nor does it come from a place of ignorance. I hunted beasts all my life... but few beings out there can be as brutal and as cold as the Vampyr." with a deep breath, the veteran warrior looked at those behind him, his following question shocking most of the Eranoiran travelling with the company. "Who here knows of the Massacre of Soleiville?"

Cécilia's eyes opened wide, "M-merde..." muttered Paulin as he meekly stood behind Petrocles and Sentry. "I can see by the look on your faces most of you know what transpired there... but I can also tell that our brothers and sisters that are not from Eranoire have not heard of this tragedy - Soleiville was small hamlet in the County of Beaugendre, it was inhabited by 249 people, the majority of them were farmers who worked on grapes. It was a village like any other in any corner of the world." he said as turned around to look at Devereaux. "But a year after the Maelstrom had devastated the countryside, they were attacked by Nachzehrer Vampyrs and out of all those 249 people, only 4 survived. I was there, in the aftermath of the massacre, looking for survivors of the Vampyr onslaught."

"The count had tasked me and my comrades to hunt for monsters in the area, we were heading to Soleiville to relax after a long day chasing after a voracious basilisk... but then we saw the smoke coming out of the village that cold autumn morning. When we arrived, the village was devastated... I looked through many houses, hoping to find a survivor, but all I found were dead families, drained of their blood or butchered by vampyric jaws and teeth, their flesh consumed by the damn fiends. Eventually, I found a young Myrkálfar girl who hid on the cellar, she watched through cracks on the wood as her mother was eaten alive by at least five Vampyrs." The eyes of the warrior trailed down to the firepit beneath him. "Some of you might say that Devereaux is not one the Vampyrs that attacked Soleiville, and I know that is the case, but I still choose to not trust him, why you might ask?" He asked before looking at the company.

"One of the four survivors was the the town watchman, an old goat of a man who was wandering around the village, as he normally would, but stopped when he noticed a sizeable group of Wer approaching, it was the dead of night and their eyes were glowing under the light of the moon. He hid behind a house and attempted to sneak his way towards the watch tower where they had an alarm bell." He paused, his eyes staring down into the fire as he continued to remember what the town watchman had told him that cursed morning. "But when he approached the tower, he watched as a young man emerged from the tower hold the bells clapper. Still hidden in the shadow, he watched as this group of Vampyrs approached the saboteur, that's when he realized who it was... none other than the towns leatherworker, the same man who early that day was cracking jokes with townsfolk and singing songs in the tavern revealed himself to be a Vampyr, a man who had lived in that village for ten years and appeared to be a friend of everyone, led this Vampyric coven into the houses of those who had the power to resist them... when the townsfolk realized something was wrong, it was too late. It was a carnage."

He then pointed at Devereaux. "This is why I do not trust Devereaux and I don't think I'll ever trust him." He said before looking back at his companions. "Could I be wrong? Of course, I am Wer, I am a human, we make mistakes." The rest of the company watched as Berchar pulled a dagger from his back sheath, Alberto moved in front of Devereaux to protect him if the warrior attempted anything. "...but Vampyr's are dangerous beings... even if Devereaux is who he says he is... what will happen the day he goes hungry and is unable to satisfy his needs?" He said before cutting his own hand and clenching it over the firepit, his blood dripping down into the fire, it's intoxicating aroma immidiately detected by the Jester supernatural sense - even if he was well fed, even if he tried his best to mask his powers, he couldn't control his eyes as they glow bright red.

(We are Many: Due to being the majority, company fighters get a large +4 bonus to their argument roll.) (The Fighters/Berchar's Argument: 1d10+4 = 14) Even those among the company who trust Devereaux were a bit intimidated by the Vampyr's red eyes. Other fighters started to shout, some demanding Cécilia to expel the vampyr. "I've seen many hamlets destroyed because of these beasts!" shouted a warrior. "He's a menace! A danger for this entire company!" shouted a warrioress as she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.

• Adventuring Rogues •​

(The Rogues Argument: 1d10 = 4) Before either Cécilia or Alberto could calm the company, some of the rogues travelling with company started to shout. "How in Hel can we sleep safe knowing a servant of the dark sits among us?" one of the rogues spoke up, angry and with his hand resting on a sheathed dagger on his belt. "Tis a bad omen to have him with us. We should remove him and keep ourselves safe from his dark influence." He then said, garnering grunts of approval and audible ‘ayes’ from his compatriots.

• Skæglin Barbarians •​

(The Skæglins Argument: 1d10 = 7) One Skæglin warriors visibly scoffed at the accusations thrown around about Devereaux, rather annoyed by the remarks having been made so far. “Does it really matter what he happens to be?” one of the Skæglins spoke up, seemingly annoyed by the outcry given by many others members in the company over Devereaux. “He’s been able to fight and has fought alongside us without fear, that makes him worthy to stay in my mind.” His compatriot nodded in agreement and grunted aloud signaling his approval of such an emphasis.

• Adventuring Archers •​

(The Archers Argument: 1d10 = 4) One of the archers then stood up, aggravated by such blind notions of bravery emanating from the Skaeglins. "I’ve had to face these bloodsuckers before, especially after they had killed friends of mine when hunting these creatures. Hunted for murdering families in their own homes for their rotten needs!" he yelled aloud, whipping his fellows into a flurry of shouts and jeers. "I won’t have a parasite walk among us, free of fear to feed on us and kill others when he falls to his urges. They all do."

• Adventuring Wizards •​

(The Wizards Argument: 1d10 = 7) This comment in particular got one of the company wizards to speak up, shaking his head in disapproval. “How uncharitable do you have to be to take away all the trust that had been built?” he asked the archer with a frown, “He had never once shown any intentions to feed or attack any of us. And I believe that he won’t do so anytime in the future.” He garnered a series of nods from his fellows as he looked at the jester with sympathy, “His struggle is one we should support him in, not cast him out for. For how can we call ourselves a company if we break the bonds of fellowship so easily?”

• Zervaki Barbarians •​

(The Zervaki Argument: 1d10 = 6) The two Zervaki barbarians, who had thus remained silent so far, took the time to speak finally and voiced their opposition. “We’ve raided and fought against the Vampyr time and time again. We've been used as feeding stock by these creatures, our kin stolen from us in their own raids as well.” one of them spoke, her voice stern and icy in its tone, “We won’t be laying in camp next to one of them either. Simple as that.”

• Dvergr Warriors •​

The dvergr with the company shifted uncomfortably as the humans around them made a ruckus and a fuss about Devereaux, much to their confusion concerning such events. The trio muttered among themselves as the scene unfolded, unsure as to what to say or do in such a situation, until one of them stood from where he sat and looked about: “Does any of this really matter?” he asked aloud with a tone of moderation. “Is vampyrism really such a big deal among you fulken? I get that ye don’t like his kind, but its puzzling to me that ye treated him well before this only to now hate him. Can’t ye lot just… ignore it?”

• Hobs Adventurers •​

(The Hobs Argument: 1d10 = 5, 3, 1) “Didn’t you hear what was said?” one of the Hobs then cried out, “He’s the embodiment of evil! Servant of foul practices and magics!” A small finger pointed directly at Devereaux, as his face displayed a mixture of anger and genuine fear. “He’ll be the one to bring us to ruin!” another of the hobs then yelled, “I don’t care how much he says he’s suffering, he’s accursed! A fiend! We ought to burn him in the sun to save ourselves before we too are cursed and doomed!” Her voice rang out, bringing out chants of approval from those who had already made up their mind about Devereaux, and additional displeasure and anger from those who support him staying.

• Meleissian Monks •​

“Cease this madness, in the name of St. Melek!” one of the monks suddenly cried out, unwilling to listen any longer to what was unfolding and unwilling to let it transpire further into chaos. His example was quickly followed by his fellows as they too stood with him, motioning with their hands for peace and calm.

“We understand your fears, and your mistrust towards one of the undead, but I believe he means us no harm! For not all such beings are truly evil or ill-intentioned. He chooses his path, to stay away from the urge to feast or to kill, and thus has not broken the sacred bonds of trust we placed into one another.” The monk then continued, “We must understand others and feel compassion for their suffering, as we do with all living beings. For if we do not show compassion to those who need it, how can we ever expect such compassion to our own sufferings and plights?”

Another of the monks quickly joined in to speak, “St. Melek, blessed be his name, understood this better than anyone. For it was he who was traveling on his great pilgrimage across the lands, and found a lost lamb, stricken with disease. He halted his journey to care for it, and to nurse it back to health before returning it to the great fields. And once he was lost, it was that very lamb that shepherded him to safety to its masters, finding him a warm room to rest under and food to be shared.”

(The Monks Argument: 1d10 = 4) A third monk stood up, with a hand across his chest and looked around warily to the rest of the company: “All beings have a right to live, no matter how sick or afflicted they might be, for such deeds of compassion will be rewarded in kind to thee. And he is no different,” he then motioned to Devereaux, “For he did not ask for such an affliction. And so we must show compassion and care for him as such.”

• Qurai Adventurers •​

The Qurai adventurers with the company had remained silent this entire time, their gazes speaking louder than words as they looked at Devereaux with a variety of feelings towards him, none of them charitable. As the eldest Qurai among them shifted in hear seat and cleared her throat to speak, it would become evident as to why: “He might not be one of them. But all I’m reminded of when I look upon him now is the horrors we had endured under his kind.” She stated, her voice rattling through the air and deafening the clamor of the others as they tuned in.

“All I see is the tales of the Princes of Damirev, and how they would bleed my grandmother to feast on her blood. Her suffering for their pleasure as they enjoyed their feasts.” She continued, her voice beginning to tremble which caused some of the younger Qurai members to look at her with concern. “The tales she told after my escape haunted my dreams, and the dreams of the generations that came after. Warning us always of the evil in those red eyes. Their capacity for cruelty.”

“You don’t have to continue…” one of the younger Qurai whispered to her, but she quickly waved her off. She looked straight into Devereaux’s eyes with both apprehension and anger, and her hands balled into fists as she looked into what she considered to be the great enemy of her family, and people. “How they whipped our kind, beat us, used us as cattle and chattel. Made us less than Human.”

(Pain of Thousands: Due to generational trauma, the Qurai get a +2 bonus to their argument roll.) (The Qurai Argument: 1d10+2 = 6) “You are not them, nor have you tried to do such evil, but I will never sleep well knowing You are walking with us so long as we are part of this company.”

​

The company fell in utter, painful silence after hearing the anger and pain on the Qurai elders voice, this continued for a minute before Cécilia broke the silence, to the surprise of many, with an apology. "I believe I owe some of you a genuine apology." She said as she looked at Berchar. "Your fears are not unfounded, and while some of you speak from superstition, it is clear to me now that most of you genuinely fear Devereaux for valid reasons. I dare say reasonable reasons." but then, she placed one hand on Devereaux's shoulder. "But I will never kick someone out of this company for who they are and specially in a case like this - Devereaux did not ask to be what he is now, he was turned against his will by none other than his mother, can I ask all of you to put your selves in his shoes? What would have you done in his place? Because I refuse to believe that all of you would seek answers in the Crossroads." She added as she walked towards the company.

"We have been travelling together for two weeks, some would say that's barely anything... but 14 days of marching together, eating together, sleeping near each other... With the exception of those who joined us this morning, I dare say that most of us here has a decent idea of who the other is, who here can say Devy is a liar or a knave? He chose to reveal his nature to us, what Vampyr would choose to do that?" She asked, many members of the company looked at each other. "Devereaux might be a jester hidden behind a mask, but his honesty is commendable." Added Alberto, who then gave Devereaux a friendly smile.

"Indeed, he revealed his secret to us because he wants us to know, he wants us to trust him - and I want all of you to trust him." She said to the doubtful crowd of adventurers. "...and to trust me." She added later. "This expedition is my life's work, everything I've ever wanted to do in my life is here, I would never do anything to endanger it and those involved in it. You are part of my team, you are all my responsibility, your lives mean a lot to me and I mean this." She said as her caring eyes looked at the company members standing behind Berchar. "I ask all of you now... to please.. Trust me."

Support for Devereaux: 92
Hatred for Devereaux: 43

Devereaux wins a new Perk - Misunderstood Thespian: Devereaux gets a +2 bonus to Company related rolls. He is no longer considered an Undesirable.​

Berchar remained deathly silent as Cécilia spoke, listening to what she had to say with intent but also with a pent-up frustration. The air was tense as that same frustration could be felt among those who had gathered to his side as well, their own feelings guiding their thoughts about this whole situation. Some others in the company had also moved to side with those who went to Devereaux’s defense, though not a great many compared to what Berchar had accumulated. Though a wind of change was appearing in the air around them.

Cécilia had asked them for trust, and respect, for Devereaux as a living being. The same two things that any one of them are afforded without question or second thought. Of course, there were some soft-spoken mutterings between those who had made up their own minds about Devereaux, but Berchar remained quiet. He looked between both Cécilia and Devereaux, giving each a glance, as he pondered this. He had seen what Vampyrs could do, what horrors they could commit, and now he was being asked to make his peace with one?

It was a frustrating proposition, but he sighed and looked at Cécilia once more. "Very well, madame. If you insist." He simply spoke. He shot another quick glance at Devereaux before turning to head for his tent. Those who had gathered behind the warrior looked at each other confused, some were dissapointed, others pondered if they had chosen the right side of the argument, but now there was no sense in delving in it, soon the crowd started to disperse, most heading back to their tents while a few remain sat around the campfire.

"Ya better play better songs from now on." said one of the Skæglin barbarians who then slapped the Jester on the rump. "Quit it you! Still... Devy, I'm... sorry you had to go through that, but I think... I think we got through them, I think they'll leave you alone." said Cécilia as she stood in front of the Jester. "...come here." She muttered before she gave the vampyr a hug. "You are a friend now, you matter a lot! Not only to me but to all of us who stood with you."

 

[Dmaster]

Tensions were quite high as emotions ran rampant in the arguments of many, the undead wizard choosing to stand with his hands behind his back as he listened. He had very little to say as the exchanges were made, having already said his piece and seeing it completely unnecessary to muddy the waters further. Though the early suggestion that the wraith was his lover did get him to reply with a "In life she stabbed me, I did not appreciate that," and he spoke no further on the matter. He didn't have much to say about his few skeletal minions riding on the wagon cages, figuring that he would have to establish a proper marching order once he had more at his disposal.

The story of a vampire attack on a small hamlet would have made Gawain twist his lip with scrutiny, failing to see the connection and relevance to the current situation. If the settlement was razed by a handful of axe wielding maniacs instead of vampyr it would be just as illogical to hate people merely for wielding an axe. He only gave a neutral sigh at that, knowing full well that little could be done to convince this warrior otherwise. The skull-faced mage had talked to enough brick walls in his extended lifetime already.

Fortunately he did not have to do any further talking, as eventually the hardheaded soldier backed down and agreed to the company's wider position. Gawain's head cocked to one side upon seeing the slap to the jester's rear and the hug Cécilia gave him after. "Yes. You are a valued member of the team. Do not expect me to engage in intimate physical contact with you, however."

With that he clapped his hands, wrapping his fingers about his own palms as his own way of adjourning the meeting. "Well then! The matter's sorted. With any luck, the next company meeting will be me showing off a detained god."

 

[Vexumin]

Nora had sat in place, eating away at her food while everyone discussed their ire concerning Deveraux's species. She had to admit, she got a great deal of what she sought during her adventures in that single occasion. History and a passion for ones beliefs. The story of the village sacked by ravenous invaders and people turned to items to be used by such creatures. Though the history was far from pleasant, that was indeed what she was looking for. One can never expect only to encounter the stories that people want told. Sometimes Nora knew that she would have to endure the tales that broke ones heart to hear.

Despite all she had felt, the tension that had persisted caused her body to take actions on its own. When confrontation begins, especially one that results in weapons being drawn, she must respond in kind, even if she is simply on the side lines. She had to be attentive to all advantages that presented themselves to her, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't already quite a bit on the side of the vampiric fellow. She was ready to make her way to the man that had started this chaos between members of the company. When the madness had finally ceased and the veteran retired to his tent for the night was the only time when she finally sheathed the dagger hidden under her tunic and beneath her arm, so subtly retrieved during the discussions.

A whole lot of her was blessed with a wave of relief that things did not turn violent. Ultimately, blaming one for the evils of others was unfair. This man, Deveraux, seems like a far cry from the creatures told in these peoples stories. Pinning such cruel words upon a man that had nary an intention of harming anyone present was simply unfair, no matter how one looked at it.

Deciding to take her mind off of what had happened, Nora stands and makes her way back down towards the lake. Stepping down natural steps until she was by the lakeside, the cambion could not help but fear similar treatment from the company eventually. She was thankful that there had not been any incidents thus far, but it had only truly been a day since she joined this lot. Eventually her succubus blood would finds it purchase in the mind of someone about here. No! Nora would not let such a thing happen. She was careful and always doing what she could to cover for her curses. With a shake of her head, she dismisses the thought as she cleans her dish, scrubbing it thoroughly with her thumbs and between her fingers. Soon enough she stands once more, staring into the night sky. These folk sure where a handful, huh? Well, such things didn't matter much to her.

Everyone is trouble in their own way. Just a matter of adapting to what hardships are brought from their personality. Nora liked to think that she was good at such things. Then again, that could just be her own troublesome nature hidden from herself. Returning to the camp, she places the now clean dish near where she had at first fetched it before she sets off for one of the wagons. She searched for a while for a nice spot to spend some time. Preferably somewhere that, if she passed out and did not wake up in time with everyone else, she would not be left behind.

 

[Breadman]

"Donkey brained idiots." Sentry muttered to herself as the crowd dissipated. The warrior and rogue were on a short list themselves as far as she was concerned. Berchar's temper and willingness to reach for the sword was going to be a liability and Ahmed was too comfortable with giving her the eye. She would have to forget their existence for the moment to let things really calm down.

"Eye, listen to the book mouse." Sentry added after Cecilia spoke and placed one hand over his shoulder. "Any of them give you anymore trouble you call to me, alright?" She didn't say anything to Gawain however. There really wasn't anything to add to that.

Nearby Waylond stood with his arms half-crossed in front of his chest. An uneasy expression on his face as one hand fiddled with a talisman hanging from his neck.

"Are you alright, ser?"

"Oh?...Yes, I'm fine, Pot." The knight stammered out "Just lost in thought about what we witnessed."

"You didn't seem to have an opinion on the matter, which is unlike you." The squire continued, rather confused than his usual witty self "Rarely do I see you like this."

"Perhaps I wanted to know more before acting out...or perhaps I didn't want to strike down a man afflicted with something he never asked for." Waylond looked to his squire "Perhaps his story was a familiar one." Pot nodded as he understood where his sire was heading. "In any case, I would have sided with ser Alberto and lady Sentry on this one." Waylond now spoke with a more upbeat tone "I aim to follow the right course and I think they are better judges of his character, having spend more time with him, don't you think?"

"And if they were absent or sided against him?"

"A good question." Waylond clutched the talisman "But you already know my answer."

"I do." Pot had to nod his head in agreement.

 

[Roda the Red]

After what felt like hours of tension between the two sides razing the earth with bitterness and hostility, some even directed at himself. Syllannan felt he could finally sigh in relief without the end of a dagger attempting to pierce through his throat as he proceeded to once again place his weapon back in its holster. Everyone's sentiments had been laid out on the table, not pulling any punches whatsoever. But even though it was done with hesitation and contempt, it seemed like the company as a whole had decided to give Devereaux the benefit of the doubt.

In truth, the situation seemed so dire at times, that part of him thought that a battle would break out eventually. And the last thing that the mage wanted right now was to end up fighting those who at this point had grown to call his comrades, even if they were just blinded by either rage, ignorance or just plain short-sightedness. He also considered that perhaps he should have tried to properly vocalize his desire for peace, but alas, it was meaningless to think about what could have been.

Syll approached Devy, who did not seem to be in the highest of spirits at the moment, and understandably so. He leaned his back against a nearby and gave the, admitedly now far more intimidating, Jester a reassuring smile.

"I am very sorry that you had to go through such an experience, I know it must very painful, having to conceal this burden of yours, even after so many years"

He took a short pause before speaking once again "I hope you don't let this get to you, I know that what they have said just how must have stung, but like I said before, I believe your actions can speak much louder than your words, you will get their trust back, every one of them."

Infab

 

[Infab]

Devereaux remained silent through the ordeal, simply looking on as each of his friends spoke up before listening to the rest of the company's response to both him as well as his friends' statements. This was something he had asked for, having revealed himself to first the leadership of the company before revealing it to the company itself. Everything that would be coming to him would be a consequence of his own actions.

It would have been a lie to say that he didn't feel physically sick as time went on. But he kept a straight face, almost stoic as he quietly took everything in. Most of the warriors wanted him dead, lead by Berchar. Most of the rogues and archers, the two Zervaki barbarians, and several Hobs too. The Qurai wanted him gone, one way or the other. The only ones of the main company that defended him were the Skæglin, the wizards, and the monks. The Dvergr didn't seem to care one way or the other.

At the end of things, Devereaux knew four things. The first was that he didn't trust a large chunk of the company now. These people called for his head literally the moment it was revealed that he was a vampyr, and if it hadn't been for Kastalli's soothing voice, they likely would have attempted to claim it. It didn't matter if he was a kind, gentle soul. It didn't matter if he took care of himself, and made sure to never drink from another being. It was the simple fact that he was a vampyr that ignited the fires in them.

The second was that he could never trust Berchar. This man had to bear witness to the aftermath of a massacre, caused by a group who's very blood coursed through Devereaux's own veins. He placed all of that at Devereaux's feet, as if he had been involved in it himself. And he most likely would have been the one to try and kill him if it hadn't been for Kastalli. The only reason he wasn't doing anything now was because of the shifting of the tide. He was in the minority now regarding what to do with Devereaux. But a man with that much fire inside wouldn't stop just because of that. The wheels in Devereaux's mind began to turn, pondering when Berchar would attempt something.

The third was that he would need to move his tent. After all that had happened tonight, and all that was said, these people wouldn't bear sleeping near him. Especially the Qurai. He wouldn't force them to. He could simply pack his belongings and move them out of the camp. A short distance away, down by the lake. That would make for an excellent spot. He'd also get a little time alone to think all of this over as well.

The fourth? The only people he could truly trust he had around him. These people he had fought alongside and had spent time with over the past month. These people he cared the most for. He could trust Alberto and Cécilia as well. Both had defended him, Cécilia having spoken the most in his defense over nearly everyone. These people, he could do anything for. And likely would, in the coming days.

As Berchar spoke a few final words to Cécilia, cutting him a look afterwards, Devereaux's eyes were locked dead onto Berchar's face. And there wasn't a single trace of happiness or even smugness on Devereaux's face. This was something the harlequin wouldn't forget. Afterwards, the slap on the rump from the Skæglin barbarian startled him briefly. "...Yes. I'll do my very best." he responded, as the Skæglin walked away.

"Quit it you! Still... Devy, I'm... sorry you had to go through that, but I think... I think we got through them, I think they'll leave you alone." said Cécilia as she stood in front of the Jester. "...come here." She muttered before she gave the vampyr a hug. "You are a friend now, you matter a lot! Not only to me but to all of us who stood with you."

"...I hope we did." he responded to her first statement, before she surprised him with a hug. Afterwards, he spoke again. "I thank you all for your kind words and actions, truly. I'm glad to know I have people I can really count on here."

"Yes. You are a valued member of the team. Do not expect me to engage in intimate physical contact with you, however."

"I'd never expect or ask that of you, Gawain. I respect you too much, plus you really don't seem the type for that sort of thing." responded Devereaux, with a faint chuckle.

"Well then! The matter's sorted. With any luck, the next company meeting will be me showing off a detained god."

Devereaux chuckled faintly again. "Well, let's hope we get that far!" he said, before glancing to Sentry as she stepped over.

"Eye, listen to the book mouse." Sentry added after Cecilia spoke and placed one hand over his shoulder. "Any of them give you anymore trouble you call to me, alright?"

"I'll be sure to." he responded, smirking. "You could probably beat the fire out of most of the people here."

Then, Syll gave him a smile and spoke.

"I am very sorry that you had to go through such an experience, I know it must very painful, having to conceal this burden of yours, even after so many years"

He took a short pause before speaking once again "I hope you don't let this get to you, I know that what they have said just how must have stung, but like I said before, I believe your actions can speak much louder than your words, you will get their trust back, every one of them."

Devereaux nodded. "... I'll try my best. The sheer quickness at how fast everyone got up to kill me just at the mention of being a vampyr was... alarming to say the least. Even after having been with the group for nearly a month. Its like... my loyalty and truthfulness never mattered to them."

He sighed. "I get it, though. Everyone's thoughts on things, Berchar's story, the statements from the Qurai elder... Vampyrs can be complete and utter bastards." he then said, "...I get the fear and hatred. And I should have expected as much from them. I even expected a bit from some of you, but... that never came. And I'm glad."

 

[Elenion Aura]

Cal cared little for the proceedings that followed. He cared not for these people, nor their plight. As the trial reached its conclusion, he slipped away, his hands disappearing into the heavy folds of his eclipse cloak. It was the warriors' hypocrisy that had driven him to speak. He held no love for the Vampyr. At least, no more love than he held in his heart for any among this rabble. They were a means to an end. A means to The End... If only Cal had the wherewithal to see the thread that connected this ragtag band of brigands and savages to Nyarlaexedum's great, infallible plan.

If only He would speak to me, Cal thought in a brief lapse of madness. He nearly cuffed himself across the face. He said a brief, fervent prayer, beseeching his Dark, Silent Lord for forgiveness for his thought's blasphemy. He could not think that way. This, too, was a test. His Faith would remain unshaken. Besides, there were none here with whom he could share kinship. Not even his kindred. These surface elves were blind to the true order of this world. None of them were worthy... None of them would understand...

Save, perhaps, one.

Calocis observed the Witch of the Wilds as she tarried near the flame. He could hear it, even now, her dark patron, muttering to her in her mind. In short order, the Dark Elf emerged beside her, peeling back the shadows that clung to his cloak.

"Prithee, witch. Follow."
Cal did not wait to see if she acquiesced before he retreated back into the darkness away from the prying ears of the flames.

 

[Woffy]

Abasi sighed in relief as the majority of the company scattered to their tents. Even if that didn't go perfectly it could have certainly gone worse. But in the end, he was just happy things didn't escalate even more. After Cecilia and Syllannan gave Devereaux some reassuring words, he quickly shifted back to his usual cheerful mood, he then turned to kiss Devy in the cheek and looked at his eyes, a vibrant smile adorning his exotic face.
"Well, now that's all solved! Don't worry about the grumpy ones, I never do!" He then took Devy's hand softly "Come, why don't we find a place to relax and maybe play some music to clear our minds?" He said with a playful grin on his face.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

"I thank you all for your kind words and actions, truly. I'm glad to know I have people I can really count on here."

"Do not even mention it, we are here for you, mon bon ami." said Cécilia with a genuine smile on her face. She watched as others gave their support to their Vampyric friend. She was thankful that every member on the main team had formed good friendships with one another, at least the majority did. "Well, if you'll excuse me everyone - I have another meeting now... Alberto, can you meet me at my tent in a moment?" She said before looking back at the rest of the company. "Pepin, I know it's late but I want to have a word with you in my tent now."

Everyone who was still gathered by the fire looked at old Pepin, who was sitting on a log about to light a cigarette. The old warrior sighed before getting up, walking next to Alberto as the old knight grinned. "Tired, my old chum? Don't worry, we will get to rest our weary old bones soon enough." He said before walking into the tent behind Cécilia. "What a terrible night." said the scholar as she sat down on a stool. "Pepin, as you can see... Me and Alberto are going to need more help regarding the company, I dread what would happen if recruited another Vampyr or... some other badly seen creature or species." said the scholar while rubbing two fingers against her temple. "I worry about our path through southern Brannoria, the Ælians are a zealous people, they might not take kindly to the sight of the Cambion sisters and Nora." said Alberto while gently stroking his beard. "Pepin, you have experience marching in companies... what would you have me do if this happens again?" asked Cécilia while looking at her fellow Eranoiran.