Private Tales A hunter in the streets

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Wren remained silent during said exchange, listening raptly to the words and giving the creature no break from the intensity of her stare. The initial abrasive power of Rainer's command was slowly wearing off a bit like the sting of road burn after a fall from the saddle. This allowed her clarity of the present to return, which allowed her a moment of incredulity at Rainer's passing words on debts owed.

Was he mad? "Are you mad?" it just sort of slipped out on a low hiss and a disbelieving glare.

They weren't here to dog around demons like this, they were meant to eradicate them. But, of course, out of the two of them Rainer seemed to have the better ability to process their odds of survival here. At least he was capable of working beyond the adrenaline where Wren was not.
 
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Rain would have responded in some fashion, indicating that he had thought through the process and that he felt this was the only way to get out of this unscathed, but he didn't have time. Orobas beat him to the punch.

"Quite the opposite, little bird. This water-downed husk of his own lineage just managed to circumvent my intentions. But..." He growled. "That doesn't mean I can't have my fun." With a single lurch forward, the roiling mass of shadows rotated what appeared to be an appendage, slamming into Rain and flinging him hard into the nearby shelf. Rain came down in a slump and let out a sigh before toppling over.

Orobas lurched forward again and as if his arm were capable of stretching, it coiled out and grabbed at Wren's throat. Within a flash, they were face to face. "Little bird, little bird. My how you chirp." The shadow lifted Wren from the ground and held his other hand against the center of her chest. His shadowy palm turned red before cutting to orange and finally to white. Flames swirled at the center and jumped between his appendage and Wren.

"Blood and tears, I will have one or the other as due for this forced dalliance. Come now little bird, sing for me."
 
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Attacking Rainer was not a good way to make friends with Wren. There was an unspoken law in this realm that only she got to properly beat him senseless, anyone else attempting to intrude on such things was met with malice. Wide eyes watched her companion go flying across the chamber, distracted long enough for the demon to get his grasp around her throat. Wren snarled, incapable of fighting back as she was bodily lifted from the ground.

Her hands clenched at the limb holding her high, guttural growls tearing through grit fangs. She couldn't wrench herself free, try as she might, but he wasn't going to get tears out of her. Not after the mood had already been set for avarice. Sputtering, Wren gripped his arm, attempting air, and spat at the beast, "FUCK YOU!"
 
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Orobas shook his head and even though it wasn't readily visible, it was somehow apparent that he was smiling. "That is not the sort of dalliance I was referring to, little shrike." The demon clenched his fist, pressed against her sternum, and released an intense blast of energy and heat. Concentrated and focused, he pressed his mark through her clothing and against her skin.

"Benediction and bane, hand in hand. Seek comfort in my breath on your neck, the catch of my boot on your heel. Know that until our covenenant is finished, I will be there. Always. For every slash of your blade, for every fuck and tirade, my shadow will linger in yours..." He stopped talking for a moment, though the searing pain of the brand did not cease. "The false minister's master is of my kind, long from his house and in dire need of a homecoming. Return him to his rest and I will consider remuneration for you and the grey one."

The roiling shadow looked over towards Rainer and in an instant, his grip loosened, allowing Wren to fall to the floor. "Consider yourself lucky. This is a reunion for the aeon's. And you are better set with my mark than the alternative. But your fortune will only last for so long...calamity will soon follow..."

The fire seemed to die back in the pan and the shadow shrunk back, turning into a much smaller version of himself. It proceeded until finally, the shadow disappeared altogether as the fire went out.
 
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She would not give him the benefit of her pain. Wren snarled through the branding, fangs glinting in the firelight, bare feet kicking in fury until she was released at last. Her figure dropped to the floor, crumpling under the lack of breath, and stayed in a withered, bent over heap for several long moments. Her neck throbbed, her throat burned, her lungs screamed, and her chest felt as though a red-hot slag of iron were still stuck to it. Heaving for breath, she could do little more than follow the shadow's progress as it receded from sight.

Orobas words echoed not just in her ears, but in her soul. She could feel him there, an unwelcome guest inside her being.

"Fuck..." Wren coughed, gagged, sputtered as her airways slowly healed from bruising, and slammed a fist against the floor, "FUCK!"

Getting to her feet again was more difficult than she'd ever care to admit, but she wasn't about to stay in here any longer. Staggering over to Rain, she dropped to her knees by his prone body and tugged him onto his back, "Wake up goddamnit!"
 
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It may have only been a few moments from the point of him landing and being stirred to wake by Wren, but it could have been an eternity for all he knew. It had been some time since he was hit hard enough to be knocked unconscious.

"Stop shouting please..." His eyes fluttered open and in his lap sat a red book with white stiching. The Necessary Art of Calligraphy.

He looked up towards Wren and for this moment, the sense of panic didn't register as sensible to him. He had, just a few seconds ago, been in a far off place. "I...I take it something serious happened?"
 
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"An astute observation," Wren snarled, "we need to get the fuck out of here. Can you stand or do I have to carry you?"
 
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He grinned at the comment because, as it stood, he lacked the sense not to. Trying his best to stand up, he gripped the shelving behind him and struggled to his feet. He was shaky at best.

"If you carry me, do I get a choice on how?" It was a joke...sort of. He could walk with her help but he was having a bit of difficulty telling where the floor ended and he began.
 
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The line of her lips had grown thin and blanched as she watched him struggle. This was taking too long. Any length of trudging on his part was going to serve only as fuel to her presently burning fury. So - "No," she growled, leaned in and bent her shoulder into his waist, hefting him up in a fireman carry without much effort at all.

Mortal Wren had been unnaturally strong as it stood.

Undead Wren had strength in droves and more than enough to spare.

Angry undead Wren was liable to use Rainer as a battering ram to get out of here just because she could.

She paid the man no heed for any words or actions he had against his present situation. His legs were locked within her elbow and Wren was now on a mission to find their way out. She went back to the original entryway, hazel eyes peering into the shadows for a latch or a hook or a lever and found one in the form of a cold and dead wall sconce. The gears and chains rattled and groaned and the doorway slowly swung itself open again. Wren stepped through, back into the sun beams of the empty library, and moved to make a hasty exit.
 
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If he was upset about the way he was being carried, he didn't let it show. It may have been that he was overly secure with himself and not at all emasculated in the act of being carried around by his angry companion. Alternatively, it could have been that he was simply overcome with the dire need to ensure his forehead didn't make a seamless transition between upright to planting directly into the once-concealed office flooring.

A mystery for the ages.

As the door swung back open with a creak of the library shelving, Rain winced and lifted his hand to block out the curtains of sun as they moved through the study.

He thought to let Wren know that he was starting to feel a bit better but for the truth of it, he felt suddenly sick to his stomach. And the affliction was only being made worse by the lumbering sway of the...shrike?

He wobbled mentally over the misplaced word and like a cold blizzard breeze impeding a warm home, unfortunately chilled by an opened front door, Rain remembered what had happened. "Wren..." He growled. "What the fuck happened in there?" He groaned and his head drooped again.

Perhaps he didn't remember everything.
 
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Wren trudged brutishly down the adjoining hall of the study, all sense of grace and dignity lost within her boiling discontent. Back up the stairs she went, mind over matter against the weight of the companion flung over her shoulder, and once again down the hall that lead to their chamber.

"We made a new friend," the half-elf growled upon arrival to the room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her before turning to eye the contents they'd left behind. All manner of weapon, affect, and armor remained just as it had been, completely undisturbed. Good. She pivoted toward the bed, bent at the waist and deposited Rainer onto the mattress with a breath of effort to spare him an uncomfortable landing.

Righting herself, she set a seething gaze around their stone and wooden confines, then lifted her hands to the neckline of her shirt and tugged it down to reveal the brand on her sternum.

"He's grown quite attached to me."
 
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He rubbed his head as she explained, trying to overcome the fog as he came to a sitting position. Wren was angry and Rain was still coming back from a faraway place.

And then she showed the branding. A scorched, yet healed, mark pressed against the flesh of her sternum. He felt a sudden jolt as he was on his feet, hand still pressed against the side of his head. "Orobas...Zagan?" He uttered, eyeing the symbol. "Kept by the seed..." His voice lowered as various words and phrases entered his mind, jumbled and without proper orientation.

His perspective, recovering as it was, gave these phrases life yet held no meaning. And he toiled quietly with that notion because he knew it simply wasn't the case. They had met something truly powerful and by all accounts, had survived to recall it.

Without thinking, his hand lifted to hover above the displayed mark and he was immediately met with a temperature variation. The brand was emitting some form of heat. "He..." He paused. "It...is quite powerful. And it now stands between us. Did it say anything else while I was...away?"
 
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"Sorry," Wren replied over a look of abject disgust, "I was a little busy being strangled to do much listening." She scowled, brows furrowing, and gestured at Rain to move aside so she could claim her spot on the bed. The vedymin dropped onto the mattress with the weight of her unchecked anger. Felt like a mountain inside her chest, waiting to explode.

"The false minister's master is of my kind, long from his house and in dire need of a homecoming. Return him to his rest and I will consider remuneration for you and the grey one."

"Consider yourself lucky. This is a reunion for the aeon's. And you are better set with my mark than the alternative. But your fortune will only last for so long...calamity will soon follow..."


Eyes screwed shut and hand kneading at the mark on her sternum, she took a moment to breath, trying to recall the word vomit escaping the geist's foul mouth while she grappled with the curiosity of could she actually die from strangulation when she was already dead? Even if she couldn't, didn't make it any less ... painful.

"Something about the minister's master ... is like him. He wants us to take care of him."

Convenient, since that had been the plan anyway.
 
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This didn't feel like the appropriate time to get in Wren's way so Rain moved silently aside. He felt a certain recollection occur within Wren, as if they were suddenly stumbling upon a revelation, but something felt wedged between them. Something...or someone.

He shook his head and sat back down on the bed, moving his gaze between Wren and their equipment. Everything was where they had left it and yet despite that, it had felt like days had moved between leaving the room and returning to it.

"The Presbyter?" Rain uttered, looking back over to Wren. He didn't move much, beyond shifting in his seat, as he felt the sudden weight of guilt at the sight of her kneading her sternum. He wondered if it would have been better for him to have received that brand. He wondered if the words he uttered, indicating a debit between them and the monster, had incurred that curse.

This felt like his fault. As per the norm.

He looked back towards their armor and equipment. "We should rest. We should leave as soon at the sun dips below the horizon and put this place behind us. There are forces at work here that are beyond us." He squinted and scratched as his jaw. "Though who this Seed is and what their purpose is...and what that monster meant by the Nine..." He sighed, not certain where that sudden bit of curiosity was taking him. But he looked over his shoulder and refocused. "Are you alright?"

His general nonchalance towards their affliction was eroding in the presence of the unknown branding and the weight it might carry.
 
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Less than pleased with the continued numb burning of the mark on her chest, Wren gave up her attempts to soothe it and instead flopped her arm over her head, hiding her eyes in the crook of her elbow. Rain was talking, mostly to himself, so she made no extra effort to listen. He could work things out on his own if he wanted, but under no circumstances was she getting involved in his blibber.

But then the pause and direct question.

"I'll be more alright when you shut up and get in bed."
 
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He could see now that nothing about this would be an easy process. And it certainly wouldn't be solved in the immediate future.

Turning around, he stretched out and laid on his back. Despite the recent concussion, he didn't feel particularly tired or ready for sleep. Given that he felt a pressing need to be quiet and let Wren do her own thing, he took to tracing out the lines of moss and mortar between the stones on the roof.

At first glance, he found at least three spots that were in need of repair.
 
Seemed the whole command thing worked both ways ... just not in quite the same manner. His silent and immediate follow-through fit snuggly between appeasement and annoyance, somewhere beneath the smarting brand on her sternum. Wren decided not to give it much thought, and instead opted to put some effort into following Rainer's previous idea of the night: to get some rest.

Didn't take long. Demon or no, Wren's sleep was forthcoming and deep. If her possession was supposed to impose disturbance, then her uninvited guest was woefully unprepared for just how stubborn his host could be. Wren slept like the dead.

SUNSET

They were up and armored and moving out before the sun's lower edge hit the horizon. A rest that had afforded a few hours of sleep for Wren and ... well, whatever Rainer had managed on his part. Wren's mood had shifted only enough in a positive direction that her marked silence was at least not cutting, though it was heavy. The mark on her chest continued to smart with a faint burning sensation similar to that which lingered when one touched a hot skillet.

It bothered her. Which was probably the point. She tried her damnedest to ignore it, focusing instead on their next move: finding the master of the Presbyter.
 
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Whether he slept or not, that remained to be seen. But he wasn't particularly forthcoming on that notion, having been upright and standing by the time Wren stirred from bed. He was busy clumsily working at a buckle as he looked over to Wren.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you snore?" He uttered with a bit of a smirk, somewhat marred by a bit of exhaustion showing beneath his eyes. He was all there but where there was, it was difficult to tell. "Haven't heard any movement in the keep yet but with the way they move around here, my senses might as well be buggered for all their worth. We should try and depart before the Duke and Cassandra make their way - less opportunity to stumble upon our daylight activities."

He wasn't keen on explaining what exactly happened. On top of that, he wasn't keen on seeing what the Dukes response would be to their new relationship with the one from the book.

Rain leaned over to pick up a few weapons, somewhat dazed at the idea of having to find where to attach them, but slowly got to work mounting. "If we're quick, we'll catch the bonfire before it starts."

A dark comment. But he wasn't exactly in a bright mood.
 
Her sleep allowed her hyper focus, and so she was redressed and buckled in much more quickly than Rainer seemed to be managing. Hazel eyes gave him a look of narrow consideration for his words. The man's attempt at light humor was nothing new - he was deflecting from his lack of sleep. She could see it in his face. Sense it, too.

"Yes," she replied shortly to the snoring comment before shifting across the room to their door and unhinging the lock. The door inched open, granting a sliver of darkening view into the hall. No shadows lingered, but the faint smell of burning candle told her they needed to move quickly. The Help was making the rounds, lighting sconces and candelabras as the daylight outside continued to fade. Wren closed the door again and looked back to see him struggling with his accoutrements.

She snorted and crossed the distance between them, taking on the shared duty of assistance. "Can you do quick?" A blond brow lofted in uncertainty as she buckled in one of various weapons to his belt.
 
He finally managed to get everything secured with that bit of help. "Probably not but it's rarely been an issue until he now." He quipped as he looked back towards the door. "If she's roaming about, I can't tell. So we'll either dodge her or we won't, no point in worrying about it."

He cinched everything down one last time before approaching the door and gingerly opening it. With that, he strode out into the hallway and started making his first few steps towards the door. Based on Wren's coordination this evening, she was likely to outpace him and do it with a more muted elegance.

He was finding it difficult to walk quickly and quietly, what with his appurtenances bouncing against his various pieces of metal armor.

Just as he was approaching the stairwell, he saw the flicker candle light bouncing and moving a floor down. He waved to Wren and found a spot next to the stairwell case, resembling a bit of a nook, and did his best to blend in.
 
Wren was doing her best to be on good, if not neutral behavior. Her brashness had gotten them far more trouble than she felt they deserved, but let no one say Wren never learned her lessons. Shadowing her companion's steps, she hovered behind him at the stairs, leaning to spy the candlestick glow, and followed him with her gaze as he moved to ... hide. No, maids were too keen for that. Perhaps he just didn't know the attention to detail a good housemaid had. They were within earshot, he was slow and noisy, and the woman was on her way.

There was something to be said about boldness compared to brashness. The bold worked off experience, the brash simply worked off desire. Wren knew housemaids. She turned and began making her way down the stairs, keeping her stride casual until she rounded the landing to find the maid on her way in through the doorway.

"Oh good," she sniffed, eyeing the candle, "we're taking our leave. When the Duke rises you can tell him we set off to investigate his suspicions. We should return, with luck, within two days time."
 
Rain thought he was being clever but as he felt his shoulders droop, he felt a ping of disappointed hover over him. Maybe the lack of sleep was actually getting to him.

Walking behind Wren, Rain remained quiet as she chatted with the maid.

"Of course. I will inform him of your plans. He is, of course, awake and currently looking over some manuscripts in his study. So..." The maid paused. "Perhaps I will wait to tell him until he has had his dinner."

She walked passed them and moved down the hallway, back towards their room. Rain felt a sigh of relief escape him, tempered by the realization that their secret was safe for only so long. "Well, off we go then." He uttered, breaking his vow of silence, as he moved to leave the Keep.
 
...looking over some manuscripts in his study...

Couldn't help but wonder if study meant library. Wren felt the urgency to leave motivate her boots to continue moving as the maid stepped past them. Though a secondary undercurrent of smugness also struck her and she didn't feel as though it was her own.

Wren moved with purpose, heading for the main entrance and breathing a sigh of relief as they stepped out into the waning light of dusk, "We'll need the horses if we plan to get there before the bonfire..." but where had their horses been taken?
 
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He took a deep breath as they stepped out into the field that overlooked the town. It wasn't a long way down before hitting Bur'tyga but based on the journey up to the Keep, the distance felt off. Fires were burning like little stars in the distance, painting bits of the town with earthen tones of red and brown and orange. The blue and grey dusk was framed in a moment of stillness, as if the sun had found a ledge on the horizon and opted to take a breather before the final plunge into darkness.

The sound of a whinny echoed against the air and Rain turned, catching glimpse of a barn that they hadn't seen on their ride up.

"Probably boarded up over there..." He nodded in the direction of the stable. Even from this distance, it was clear that the stable hand was busy dealing with the upkeep. That felt odd as well - the timing wasn't particularly appropriate seeing as most horses weren't nocturnal. "Sooner we get off this hill, the better..." He uttered, suddenly speaking through clenched teeth, as he trudged off towards the stable.
 
Having retrieved the horses and put a fair amount of distance between themselves and the Duke's hold, Wren felt herself able to breath easily for the first time since they'd arrived to Bur'tyga. Though she wagered this odd reprieve from whatever anxiety was plaguing her would not last long.

She absently pressed at the spot on her breastplate just over the newest mark on her sternum. It was burning again and she didn't like the feeling it gave her.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the vedymin muttered as they neared the town limits, brow lowered over her gaze that rolled over the pinpricks of torch lit sprinkled throughout the silhouette of buildings.
 
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