Open Chronicles Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

[Maranae]

Dead silence hung on the air.

It should not have been so; the mountains to the east, climbing and piercing the heavens themselves, should have been a place where myriad animals lived and yet, for all that the forest actually encroached on the little village of Heath, nary a bird sang. No crows, no deer; the lowing of cattle could not be heard callign across meadows where timber had long ago been felled. No sheep bleating, no goats. No flies, no bugs.

Nothing.

Heath lay at the base of a steep-sided ridge that climbed a thousand feet up into the foothills of the Spine, and the wending, rutted wagon road leading out of town and into the dense, old growth forest stopped here and there at the open adit of this mine or that. Much of the region was given over the mining and to logging, but this region in particular was known for its mineral wealth: iron, copper, zinc, lead, and occasionally, gold and silver. Miners had worked the region for a hundred years, and still the mineral wealth had not been exhausted.

No miners moved about the slopes. No wagons trundled up, bearing supplies, and nothing came back down with raw ore. The mill in the village was silent, the chimney's cold. The scent of wood smoke was absent, or the brimstone of the mills when they processed the raw ores.

No, the scent of smoke was absent, but the scent of death lay thick about everything, a cloying miasma of rot.

No one would have suspected that hell on Arethil could possibly look so peaceful, or so picturesque.

***

The wagon rocked violently as it wended its way along the rough road heading into the Spine. Poorly maintained, it was a miracle it hadn't been washed out at several points along the journey out of civilized lands. Alliria was far behind them, as was Oban and Vel Anir - home, sweet home - and all that lay before them for hundreds of miles was wilderness, mostly untamed, mostly uninhabited.

Torean looked at his sister, she who sat in front of him playing with the oversized shirt she preferred to wear. Taller than he was, she carried an air of innocence. Maranae was no longer the little girl he had known in his youth, and at times the changes that had been forced upon her boiled his blood with rage. Those who had abducted her had done wrong enough by stealing her away, but all of the cruelty that came afterwards?

Vengeance was a dish best served cold. He had long ago made his vow to find her killers and, when he had discovered that she wasn't necessarily dead, well, then he had smoothly shifted his desire from vengeance over her murder to punishment for her defilement.

Mara simply played with the shirt, oblivious to her brothers stare, twisting it about her fingers in a rather bored manner. Pale of complexion, like he was, with the same fiery red hair and freckles decorating her face, that was where the similarities ended. He was, at least, human. She was something else, something alien. A chimera, fabricated of beast and human, souls entwined in a way that he lacked the ability to understand or comprehend. An abomination, she was.

His hands tightened on his knees.

"Hey," came the sound of the driver's voice, and Torean looked up. "The Ford is just round the corner, boy. That's all the further I will take you and your girl," he said. The fellow was older, and lived a couple villages back. He had no desire to go into the plague-ridden mining district and take his chances with whatever had - theoretically - killed everyone up there. But coin was coin, and Torean had offered him a couple of silver marks for the ride up, along with some travel provisions for himself.

Maranae generally provided for herself. The thought made him grit his teeth.

"Ok," Torean said, and sighed. "Do you think anyone else will have come?" he asked, not expecting an answer.

"The governor of the district is offering a fair reward for going in and clearing out the beasts that are causing all the trouble," the driver said, and shrugged. "If you ask me, its not worth it. Someone dug up something that should have remained buried up there, and this is what happens when you unleash old terrors."

Torean grunted.

"Is it time to walk," Maraane asked, suddenly, and her brother looked upon her with kind eyes. "Is," he said and started to gather the few belongings he had brought with him. "We need to get some things from the town before we head up the mountain, and we might be meeting up with other people," he said with clear mixed feelings in his voice.

She gave him a cheerful grin, and nodded her head. In her simple world, he doubted that she understood the complexities of what it was they were doing. Not for the first time, he felt a stab of guilt at involving her in any of this. The vendetta was his, not hers, even though she was the one most affected by it. The only reason they were here, as it turned out, was a simple similarity of stories told by some of the few survivors.

Similarities between what they had witnessed, and what Maranae was capable of. Tenuous threads to go chasing snipes halfway across the world over, but the villains in this story had been exceptionally skilled in covering their tracks. He had only threadbare leads, and surely something would eventually come of one of them.

The trouble with this plan, though, was that so much could go wrong. As the wagon rounded a sharp turn in the road, the bank dropping to a swift, wide stream to their right, thirty feet down, the town - The Ford, as it was called locally - came into view. There might have been five or six hundred souls living here, primarily humans, but there was clear evidence of outsiders here. Some things you learned to pick up on quickly, once you had ventured out into the world, and things that were out of place stood out far too easily, just as he knew that he and his sister did to the locals.

The Ford was to be the casting off point for the expedition to Heath and to the mines and surrounding areas, searching for any survivors from the attacks and the ensuing plague that had consumed the entire region up the mountain. The governor of the region would not be here, of course, but officials from the larger town down closer to the trade route would be here. So far from everything, it was unlikely that a horde of adventurers would show up for such an undertaking, but monster hunters and bounty hunters alike lived for this kind of work.

It made him feel sick. He had to be around these people and work with them, all the while bringing his sister right into the heart of trouble. She was wanted herself, the bounty placed on her by some shadowy, faceless organization worth more than a little trouble. He could only hope that none here would recognize her. Her like of guile would make it impossible to fool anyone who did know who she was.

The horse-drawn wagon wheeled across a paved ford in the stream, that which the little town was named for, and pulled up in front of the largest building along the main road. Less of an inn and more of a tavern, for there were seldom any travelers this far out, it was nonetheless crowded. With the sun still well shy of dusk, it was still crowded and rowdy. It was difficult to tell who were the miners and who the adventurers come to seek fortune and fame, but as he stepped down from the wagon and tossed a second silver to the driver, helping Mara down though she did not need it, he realized it did not matter.

This was where the adventure would really begin. "Thanks again," Torean said, but the driver had already snapped the reins and was on his way back. he stared at him, then shrugged. "Lets go, Mara. We got to find the magister and see what else they can tell us beyond the rumors we've heard." Mara grinned and pranced along behind him for all the world like a child without a care.

 

[Phillipa Ebonheart]

The magister they sought was entertaining a guest as it would happen. A woman wearing a wide brimmed, straw hat that hid her face from the sun. A requirement of the utmost importance for long journeys as it were. The raven locks gently curled down her shoulders, a smile of polite fabrication directed to the man whose attention she sought. Though he remained behind closed doors for the time being.

The travel bag had been set to one side of her seat. The long belted skirt hid the fact that it was of the cut for riding rather than the traditional style that ladies of great importance wore to showcase their standing in society. Something the woman sitting in the receiving room had long since shed with her departure from Elbion.

Gloved hands were twined together in her lap, the day jacket of wool resting just beneath as she idly twirled her thumbs with learned patience for others to arrive.

The magistrate had been fervently handling proper documentation to assure those brave enough to venture to this gods forsaken place of proper payment or at the very least compensation in some form if they so deemed it that coin was of no interest. Goods and cargo for those so fortunate to have in their possession the means to transport them.

It was a fairly simple thing to take payment in forms of goods to play the markets elsewhere in hopes of multiplying their fortunes on a successful task. But seldom did they ever truly become anything more than slightly less misfortuned in that endeavor given the typical overisght in regards to lodging or proper taxation of the goods in question.

Phillipa however had little interest in being here for more than her own curiosity.

A town held captive by some strange force? Even being so far from her old activities, strange and alluring sights of long forgotten magics or other occult artifacts still held some drop of interest for the woman.

Aside from that she also required some form of compensation for the absolute mess that had been made of her clothing in her journey here. Mud and muck were atrocious on the finer threads of her clothing, though she was quite happy to notice her other equipment had been unscathed in her travels.

The woman twirled a single lock of curls from her shoulder in boredom. The ivory shade of her blouse working with her dark hair and lilac eyes to present a strange sight for those entering as she allowed them a pleasant if entirely forced smile of pleasantries. A woman of perceived high standing, waiting patiently for a discussion the magistrate.

Times had become strange indeed.

 

[Urchin]

Of course, word about the attack on Heath had spread far and wide, and people were travelling from across Arethil in the hope of coin to be made, and a short, scrawny red headed lad of teenage years was among them. His pursuit was not one so noble as monster hunting though. Nope, Urchin had no intention of going anywhere near the beast. He was here with a much more sinister job in mind... Looting!

An entire village completely deserted, and a mining village at that! Precious metals galore were ripe for the picking, not to mention abandoned homes and empty stores. Certainly not the most noble of causes, but hey? What was the harm? The people were all dead, after all. Nobody was going to miss whatever goodies he plundered. Considering he'd spent the majority of his life stealing from the living, stealing from the dead certainly wasn't going to weigh on his conscious.

There was only one problem... Namely, a great big, scary, blood-thirsty, unidentified monster that the locals seemed to know surprisingly little about. When Zilvra had funded his little expedition, she had made many assumptions with the knowledge she had to hand. A sudden attack on a peaceful mining town. The logical assumption she had come to was that the beast had been some kind of cave dwelling monster that had emerged when the miners had unknowingly disturbed it's habitat. Her guess had been that the beat was either an Ahool, a giant bat like creature with a deafening cry, or a Cherufe, a beast made of fire and stone, that usually made it's bed inside dormant volcanoes. Either way, she had assured him that all cave dwelling beasts despised the sunlight. They rarely emerged from their caves at all, and when they did, it was only at night. So Urchin should be able to explore the town by day, completely unhindered... According to what he'd heard from the locals though, this wasn't exactly the case.

From what Urchin had learned whilst enjoying a drink in the Ford tavern, while night attacks were more frequent, attacks during the day were still known to occur. Not only that, but there was more than the beast itself to contend with. From what he understood, many of it's victims had since become perverse mutations that were just as dangerous as the beast that created them! All this new information now posed the question: Which was he more afraid of? An unknown demonic beast and it's blood thirsty minions, or the prospect of returning to Zilvra empty handed? The latter really wasn't an option. There had to be some loot to be gathered without the risk of being attacked by monsters. For now, all he could do was listen in on other's conversations and try and gather as much information as possible.

 

[Maranae]

It was likely that the locals of Ford had not seen so many outsiders at one time in decades, if ever. Dozens of people walked the streets, talking with one another and one and all easy to pick out. Myriad attire, from armored mercenaries or garishly attired bounty hunters; nobles and serfs alike had gathered at the chance to lay hand to coin, or to fortune or fame. Not that the reward was so awe-inspiring as to make half the known world show up, but it was substantive enough to make the more adventurous sit up and take notice.

Torean felt out of place among all of the others, and not a little uneasy at their presence. He was no grand hero, no hero whose praise was sung of throughout the land. He was a man, a boy really, with a burning desire that did not fall in line with all the others that had gathered here. They came for tangible things and, perhaps a few, to actually help the people here. He was not here for that purpose. Casting a blue-eyed glance at his sister, he could not help the thread of anger that rose there.

Answers. He wanted answers, he wanted leads, and he wanted most of all to find the ones responsible. Responsible for this, for turning his little sister into....

He shook his head. Not the time to allow passionate anger to rule all.

The tavern, it had to be said, was as simple and plain as the township it occupied. The locals looked upon the outsiders with suspicion, despite their stated desire to assist with the troubles up the mountain. Every manner of adventurer was here; men from the deep south, from Alliria and from Elbion. A few elfin visages showed among the patrons, a Komodi leaning against a wall at the back with her arms crossed and her reptilian eyes flicking about the room. So many here, for the chance at glory.

Torean noted the well-to do among the crowd, sitting apart from the others as though there was some inherent difference between them and the others - there might well have been, but he wasn't about to admit that. One, an elfin man, sat at a table by himself, a sword resting against the table. He wore a fine coat of chain, the tiny links gleaming as though freshly cleaned. He stared about the room, sniffing at the commoners there. Another, a dark haired beauty, wearing an ivory blouse, sat twirling her hair while staring off to the room the magistrate had slipped off to with another.

He and his sister had only just stepped inside the smoky, surprisingly hot establishment when the door to the room the magistrate had ducked into opened. No one paid much attention to it, except perhaps the raven-haired woman, but the magistrate did not step back into the room; the woman he had been with bent in low and whispered to him, and then dipped a curtsy despite wearing trousers and then melted into the crowd and was, almost as quickly, gone from sight.

A couple of the adventurers tried to approach the man, but he waved them back, working his was to the front of the room, to a raised section of floor where performers might have plied their trade in different times. A few noted his pushing through the many people in the room and tracked him, while others continued their conversations.

He took his place on the stage, and Torean grabbed his sister and drew her to one side, so he could listen. Others tried to approach the man, but his scowl was enough to stop them in their tracks.

"Excuse me," he began, clearing his throat, and then waited until the conversation died down and the majority of the eyes were on him. "If I could please have your attention and silence, then we can begin." Another young woman stepped out of the crowd and came to stand behind him, and leaned in to say something too low to be heard by anyone else.

"Welcome to The Ford," he began, gesturing expansively. "By Her Grace, the Duchess of Brookwood, have I called you all here to deal with the current crisis," he said, and the woman next to him nodded and smiled. "I am sure you have heard plenty of details from your guilds and employers, or from the contracting companies out there."

"Well, I am afraid most of what they know is no longer accurate. Things have...proceeded, since the last time we sent anything out into the wider world." His smile had the quality of glass, fragile and almost transparent. There was fear there, beneath the seeming calm, and only impressive self discipline allowed him to maintain control of himself. "It is no longer certain that there are any survivors up in Heath or the surrounding area, and it is no longer certain that the...the creatures are sticking to their haunt as religiously as before." The slip in his voice told enough; he and all the officials of the area were horrified of what was happening, and had no real answers to the troubles represented.

"Her Ladyship has changed the terms on offer," said the woman standing next to him, and the magistrate stepped back to cede the floor to her. She wore a silk dress of an almost prudish style, high-necked and loose enough to obscure the form beneath. Rich violet trimmed with silver, it was not the kind of thing someone who was penniless would wear. "If you can rescue any who are still alive in the affected area, we will grant the reward of a gold crown for each so rescued. At greater issue is containment of the threat."

"Just show this thing to me, and it shall be contained," the komodo at the back of the room rasped, giving a truly unsettling grin to the wide room. "Maybe others, they get contained if get in way," she added.

"Do not underestimate this thing," the woman said in a cold voice. "No one has survived its presence yet. If you bring me the head of the beast that started this, it is worth one thousand crowns gold, of the heaviest weight. All of its....spawn, are unimportant." A pause. "Probably," she added after a moment of thought.

"Whatever information we have to give is available to all of you. Maps of the area, the mines, the township, and outlying holdings and settlements." The magistrate stepped forward, and the woman stepped back. "Any questions that we can answer, will be answered, but the sooner this thing is handled, the better."

Torean wanted to raise a hand, to ask questions...but did not wish to draw attention to himself and, by extension, his sister. The bounty on her head was not so great as what the woman had offered for the rampaging thing up the mountain...but even a tenth as much was too much temptation, and so he hoped fervently that he could slip beneath notice.

He caressed the handle of his sword, a worn and battered thing, as though it were a pet. Meanwhile, Maranae simply fidgeted beside him, muttering something under her breath that made no sense to him, which was likely just as well.

 

[Phillipa Ebonheart]

Phillipa listened with polite interest rather than cutting the magistrates hurried walk to the podium off. A few voices from the crowd had drawn her attention before she looked at those around her. Mild interest at the faces she could plainly see before she withdrew a feather from the jacket and held it between her palms.

A near silent incantation and a small breath into cupped hands had the small form of a bird appearing before it lofted up into the air above her. Her eyes shimmered briefly, now viewing the lot gathered from above as the bird found a small spot in the rafters to perch upon.

Its gaze was sharp, looking over each intently as Phillipa shared its sight and spotted a younger pair of adventuring bodies among the crowd. A brow arched at the sight, curiosity piqued at the pair before examining the komodi that spoke and several others.

Her interest fell back to the younger pair, the bird fluttering down from its roost back into her hand before the feather manifested in place of the small bird and returned to her pocket. She stood, careful with her jacket before brushing off the skirt and moving with ease through the back of the crowd towards the pair.

Maranae would see a raven haired woman moving towards them. Her eyes held on the boy rather than the girl as she held a smile of polite patience on her face at someone else moving through. Her free hand seeming to shift towards her pocket at the strangers move before becoming visible again as they simply moved on.

Moving to stand near them, her eyes would wander back to the podium when she became close enough to speak privately.

"A touch young for this sort of venture. Especially with your company and such dangers being so plainly present. Would you appreciate someone with a bit more practice tagging along?" She asked quietly, eyes still forward without regarding the pair.

 

[Urchin]

When the magistrate finally emerged from his hiding place, Urchin moved closer to hear what the man might say. As he did so, he noticed a pair of new arrivals, one a boy roughly his age, maybe a few years older, and another a little girl who looked to be no older than eleven. "Damn, did you folks pick a bad time to arrive," Urchin noted as he greeted Torean with a friendly nod and smile. "Hope you guys are headin' away from the trouble an' not t'wards it. Ain't safe fer little kids," he said, gesturing to Maranae... Hell, it wasn't safe for anybody. And if Urchin had even an ounce of common sense, he'd hitch a ride on the next wagon out of town... He did not.

The lad fell silent again though, when the magistrate started to talk, listening intently so see what essential information he could gather. Unfortunately, it seemed that the situation was only getting worse, and was even more dangerous than the boy had first anticipated. Coming here seemed like a worse and worse idea by the second. One piece of good news did catch his ear though.

"If you can rescue any who are still alive in the affected area, we will grant the reward of a gold crown for each so rescued. At greater issue is containment of the threat."

So, he didn't need to go anywhere near the monster and possibly didn't even have to get close enough to loot the town to profit. All he had to do was wonder far enough to find a few loss souls to bring back to the city. Not only would he gain a gold crown for every unlucky bastard he stumbled across, he'd also be a hero! It would be nice to earn some coin for doing something good for a change... That is, if there were any survivors left to rescue.

"A touch young for this sort of venture. Especially with your company and such dangers being so plainly present. Would you appreciate someone with a bit more practice tagging along?"

Urchin's ears perked up at the sound of the woman's voice, and he turned around to see who had spoken. A very beautiful young lady with Raven black hair, it would seem. "'Ello," Urchin greeted the lady/ Even though it wasn't him she addressed, he was curious to know what skills she had to offer. "Depends... What exactly 'ave ya been practicin'?"

 

[Maranae]

The young red-headed man cast a sidelong look at the nameless boy who broke the silence he had carefully been cultivating. The goal was to not attract any attention, anymore than could be helped in any case, and so far he was failing miserably at the task. Worst of wall, he hadn't done anything to get their attention in the first place! Kid looked to be roughly his own age, perhaps a little younger and definitely a bit shorter, and there was some sense about him that did not scream out brawler.

As if I am any brawler myself, he thought ruefully. He touched the handle of his sword, his prized possession in the world, and grunted in response to Urchin's advances. Now, were it that Mara could keep quiet...but in some circumstances, there was as much chance of that as having a windless hurricane.

"Not safe for little kids," Mara agreed in that voice of hers, chipper and as friendly as ever. She looked upon Urchin with guileless eyes, brilliant green like polished jade. At least, for once, none of the odd things manifested themselves; it was hard enough to explain it to people that were not paying attention, and this boy certainly was. "Good thing no little kids here," she sang softly, and then giggled.

Torean groaned.

Maybe the boy was just that, someone here seeking fame and fortune, or to become an adventurer. Torean realized that must be what he himself looked like, and something bitter made the corners of his mouth twist. Were it that it was by choice and not by ill luck and bad fortune. Whatever may come of this whole venture, the young man was certain that there would be a price to pay and it would be a dear one. The only question was what the price was, and how dear.

"Mara, we don't talk to strangers," he said in a low voice. It was even odds whether she would understand or not; her development seemed to be arrested and odd, with some concepts being utterly alien to her and - for all intents and purposes - impossible to learn. For someone who had endured what she had, she was too trusting of others. Torean was the opposite - he trusted next to no one, and his reasons for it were as many stars in the sky. "Remember what happened the last time," he continued, trying to put a special inflection on the last bit. For her part, Mara looked confused, but she blessedly shut up. What they did not need right now was one of her stories, which often were too disjointed for anyone to really understand but were nevertheless delivered with such zeal it was hard not to be trapped by them.

And so it was that he had to fight a flare of anger when another random stranger stepped up and addressed them, albeit far more circumspect than the apparent ne'er-do-well that had arrived first. Torean eyed the woman sidelong as he had the Urchin, and grunted in similar fashion. The woman was beautiful, but not enough to make him lower his guard, not especially in the company of so many sell-swords and bounty hunters.

After all, she might be one herself. Mara had a bounty as well, and a hundred crowns was a lot. No one had managed, yet, to actually capture her for more than a few days at a time. Just thinking of it made the Weatherwright youths' blood boil. It took immense effort to keep his temper in check - losing his head would bring all the wrong sorts of attention, and he had enough of that already - and forced himself to nonchalantly look to the woman. "Depends on why that someone with more practice would want to come along," he said. He did not necessarily hide his distrust as well as he thought, but given the circumstances it was understandable. He debated lying, telling her they were just passing through...but something told him that would not only not work, but likely backfire as well. "I am here for the beast," he admitted. Mara remained quiet as bid, for a change.

He did not tell them why he was here for the beast and not the other, easier objectives.

 

[Phillipa Ebonheart]

She was quiet in her observations of both parties that were actively speaking. There was plenty to absorb from the interactions between the trio, and inflection along with presentation of physical cues did wonders for the woman.

"'Ello," Urchin greeted the lady/ Even though it wasn't him she addressed, he was curious to know what skills she had to offer. "Depends... What exactly 'ave ya been practicin'?"

Lavender eyes drifted to the red headed one. Her smile not reaching her eyes as she gave a small nod to them.

"A variety of skills, though daggers and magic predominantly." She answered quietly, eyes drifting back to the pair.

"Good thing no little kids here," she sang softly, and then giggled.

"Depends on why that someone with more practice would want to come along,"

The admittance of no children being present drew a number of conclusions from the woman. There had been a number of experiments in the basement of Elbion College that would have led to a similar decisive observation. The trill of laughter afterward gave her hints of what could have or possibly was.

Had she been associated with the college still, she might have been more than intrigued about delving into the words.

The days of invasive curiosity were behind her. Now it was merely a healthy divergence of her time to observe and perhaps only witness the outcome of strange events around her. Intrigue was still present in her whims, and even having done little more than appear was enough to bring her interest.

"Numbers seem a better option than attempting the beast alone. A mob of farmers can bring down a well trained knight. Aside from that, if you are so interested in finding it...I am to understand magic draws the beasts in with haste." She offered quietly with a smile.

Maranae Urchin

 

[Urchin]

"Not safe for little kids," Mara agreed in that voice of hers, chipper and as friendly as ever. "Good thing no little kids here,"

"Ah, I didn't mean nuthin' by it lass, I'm sure yer older than ya look," he told the girl in a friendly tone. "I get the same. People think I'm younger than what I am all the time 'cos of my 'eight. It's the dwarf in me. Still, reckon yer a little young fer monster huntin', dun you? Wouldn't want ya gettin' 'urt now, would we?"

"Mara, we don't talk to strangers,"

"Hey, I ain't that strange, am I?" he asked, feeling a little offended that the boy would specifically instruct his little sister not to talk to him. Did he consider Urchin some kind of threat? Well, that'd certainly be a first. He couldn't be threatening if he wanted to. The fact that this guy seemed to have a problem with him instantly set Urchin on the defensive.

"I am here for the beast,"

"Wait, ya are?" Urchin asked, surprised to hear that was the case. "Uh... No offense or nuthin'. I'm sure yer capable an' all, but are ya sure that's a good idea? What ya gonna do with this one while yer away?" he asked, gesturing to Maranae. "More important, what's she s'posed ta do if ya dun come back?" This wasn't exactly a safe place for children to be wondering around alone. Especially since the monster could return at any time.

"A variety of skills, though daggers and magic predominantly."

"Magic?" the boy asked excitedly. "Well, that's lucky. A monster like this, sounds like you'd need magic ta fight it. I mean, I'm sure the villagers down in Heath had swords an' axes an' pitchforks an' shit, but don't seem like they did 'em any good. Shame we dun no nuthin' more about the monster. Folks dun even seem ta know what it looks like. It's 'ard ta figure out how ta kill summin' when ya dun even know what it is. I were hopin' that since it came outta the mines, maybe it'd be afraid o' sunlight or summin', but dun seem like that's the case... An' the fact that all the survivors weren't exactly survivors fer long... I dun like it. Sounds like just goin' near the thing can kill ya. I dun like it. Dun wanna get close ta this thing without a plan. Ain't there anybody what has any idea what kinda monster this thing might be?" If anyone knew what this monster was, they could figure out a weakness. But with what information they did have... This beast seemed unstoppable.

 

[Maranae]

He wasn't entirely certain that he wanted to draw the beasts in at all. Need could be a driving force, but there did not need to be any love or joy at the prospect of facing that need head on. Something as violent and alien as this thing was supposed to be should not have been considered with so flippant a regard. Either by him or these strangers; of Maranae, he was certain she did not understand and likely did not care if she did.

At any rate, it wasn't the beast that interested him, necessarily. What it was could lead to a trail of breadcrumbs, something he could follow back to a source. He clenched his hands without being aware of it, clenched them until they turned white.

Maranae stared at the nameless boy with a look of blank incomprehension. His words were too fast, and the accent he affected made an even bigger muddle of what he was trying to say. All she could do was smile - a thing she did most of the time, anyway - and nod along. "Mara is strong, she is!" she chortled in response to the boy, and gave him a guileless grin that was several orders of magnitude friendlier than her brothers' scowl at her words. It was hard not to notice, with her teeth so plain to see, that her incisors were incisors no longer. Long fangs, long enough to see the tips when her mouth closed....there, and then gone. An illusion, mayhap?

"Mara!" Torean warned, and scowled at the boy. Urchin was right to assume that Torean did not trust him. Him, or the woman either one. He had been reunited with his sister for scarcely a moon, and already they had run into two seeking to collect the bounty on her head. In a place like this, in a situation like this, it wasn't too hard to imagine someone seeing her, and recognizing who she was or, worse yet, what she was. "You are not strange, just an unknown." An outsider, his mind dutifully supplied, though he did not say it. Outward friendliness was no assurance of good will; where coin was concerned, good will was always suspect.

Maranae was looking away now, her green eyes intent on something across the room, towards the door. She had gone stock still. Torean ignored her for now. "She stays with me," he said sharply. "As for the beast...I have my reasons. Coin is but one of them," he lied.

"For one, think numbers is good idea," said a voice as another joined their little group. It was the komodo woman, her leering face looking between all of them. "Beast can get crush smashed, split reward," she added, and then patted the haft of the melee weapon she carried. Less a club or a staff and more a chunk of wood that may or may not have been a healthy sapling before coming into service as a blunt weapon in her hands, she leaned on it as she came to rest before them. It still have small branches with leaves on it! "Is good offer, should accept," she offered.

"Something...." Mara's sudden word cut through any conversation. It had an odd harmonic to it, difficult to describe. She was still looking at the wall by the door...or, perhaps, through it. "Coming, something is! Mara can feel it..."

The shriek of a wounded horse cut through the conversation in the room, cut through it like a knife through lard. A moment later, a woman screamed outside...and a moment later, bedlam as people either headed for the door to go outside or went the other way to get as far from it as possible.

 

[Phillipa Ebonheart]

Maranae Urchin

She did little more than listen to them speak for the time being. Absorbing and learning. Quietly putting together pieces. Accents lent to some determination of origin, or at the least where they had spent a majority of their time. Then again, the obvious drop of heritage cleared the water quickly in that regard.

She continued listening, turning in time to spy the display of a smile that confirmed suspicions. But nothing came of it from her at least aside from storing away the little tidbit as an interesting side step.

The ma-boy, she mentally declared to herself given the poor display of discretion he had put on to belay interest. Not that she could rightly blame everyone for not being capable of such a feat. Discretion and guile were learned traits and often one failed many times before an inkling of success was born of the effort.

Time would prove a handy tool for the boy, if he managed that long.

The observation of magic being used against the beasts was not unfounded. Her own magic possibly being ideal for such a circumstance as requiring distance from the target. But with little information besides being highly infectious, which of itself provided little to no detail aside from a possible mutation of undeath, she had no idea forming for how to apply herself besides brute force.

The defensive tone the boy used had the faintest glimmer of a smile forming before the komodo from before appeared and spoke her own thoughts. The weapon they bore something akin to a cudgel more than a proper weapon. Then again, there was beauty in simplicity.

The small girls speech cut through the banter as sounds from outside cut through the ruckus about them. Bodies moved, surging forward as Phillipa stood still for the moment. A shimmer would appear around her of lilac tone, eyes flaring a similar color as a silent incantation began to form from her lips.

If the group moved outside, she would follow but otherwise stood firm.

 

[Urchin]

"Mara is strong, she is!"

"She is?" Urchin asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the girl up and down. She didn't look particularly strong to him, but then appearances could be deceiving. "How strong are we talkin' here, kid? Strong enough ta kick the shit outta some giant fuckin' monster? 'Cos I sure as hell ain't an' it kinds looks like the town is runnin' outta options." It was then that Urchin noticed the girl's teeth and incredibly sharp her incisors were. "Hey, wait, you a vampire or summin'?" he asked hopefully. Obviously vampires were company he usually tried to avoid keeping, but in a monster hunting situation, he'd be more than happy to have one in his corner. "But I thought vampires couldn't some out durin' the day. They burn an' go all crispy an' stuff."

"You are not strange, just an unknown."

"Buddy, it's a strange town far from 'ome, everyone's an outsider," Urchin pointed out. "Reckon yer gonna 'ave ta talk ta some of 'em... Unless yer plannin' on fightin' this thing alone... I mean, if ya are, dun let me stop ya, I'll just hide behind ya an' do some rescuin', see 'ow many lost souls I can gather up an' collect my gold crowns. Not particularly thrilled 'bout the idea of a monster what nobody's seen, what kills everythin' it touches. Dun sound fun."

"Beast can get crush smashed, split reward,"

"Sounds good ta me," Urchin replied to the new comer. "Only problem is, what if the beast is too big fer smashin'? I mean, it already killed an 'ole town full o' folks. Some of 'em must've tried smashin' it. Dun look like they 'ad much luck." The situation looked more dire by the second, and they had practically no information to go on besides that the monster was very good at killing people... Not particularly promising.

"Coming, something is! Mara can feel it..."

"Oh, fuck," Urchin sighed under his breath, following the others outside. Well, it looked like he wouldn't even have the chance to change his mind. Whatever the monster was, it had brought the fight to them.

 

[Torean Weatherwright]

Pain. Agony, endless torment. Burning through every limb, every muscle, every sinew and synapse and fiber of being. The thing moved down the road, seemingly oblivious to the shrieking humanoids that ran in every direction as soon as they saw it.

...for Father...rip and tear...

"Pl-please...", slurred from its lips. His lips or hers, it was difficult to tell now; blood ran from the eyes and drooled from the mouth as teeth grew every which way, as torso pulsed in a sickening manner. As things writhed and twisted about within, and as the chittering voice of madness echoed in its head.

...must....bear witness...

"....an end, I b-b-eg..."

No end. Only suffering, only punishment for the Sins of the Father.

A shriek, rising in its throat, a banshee wail that held odd harmonics. The sensation, the fire in abnormal limbs....called it forth. The beast, thus rankled, raged and burst forward.

----

The komodi sneered at the commotion rising from all the others, and looked at her new friends with a grin that was both lopsided and terrifyingly full of teeth. "Fun begins now, yes? Strong ones come with me," she said, and hefted her tree-club. Torean looked to the scale-skinned woman as she strode for the door, stooping low to avoid hitting the ceiling beams and the door jam, and shrugged. The room was mostly empty now, everyone haven fled to their desired place of refuge or else still running.

"Maranae, please stay with me," he said, and dropped a hand to the handle of his sword. Maranae grinned and pranced a little bit, the red hair flipping about like a wild animal's tail as she did...but she did not step beyond her brother, not yet. "I don't care if you lot want to come with us," he said, as though he had a choice in the matter, "but do not get in the way," he added. Looking at his stout frame might have lent an air of danger to him if he did not look as young as he clearly was. The others were likely far more proficient warriors than he...

...but none of them compared to the girl they thought of as a child. As he turned away from them, he could not help but grimace. Was Maranae even human anymore? Silly questions, that; the answer was clearly no.

Trying to project an air of confidence he did not feel, he strode towards the door. He had only made it a few steps when the door burst open, and a white-faced village darted through it. Flecks of blood marred that pallid visage; when he saw the boy approaching, his eyes widened - if that was even possible - and he cried out.

"No! No, do not go out there!" His words trailed off into gibbering madness, as he shoved his way through the room, kicking chairs and tables aside as he went. Torean looked back a moment, and then shrugged and continued on.

At the door, looking out into the street, he saw what it was that had spooked the other man so.

Roughly humanoid in shape, it was still hideous to behold. Three arms, two legs and a misshapen torso that seemed to writhe within the clothing, almost as if snakes coiled round under the cloth. The grotesque face on the thing snapped to look in his direction as her stepped outside, and a malformed mouth full of teeth and fangs growing every which way opened to issue a piercing shriek that cut through the the soul.

It wasn't looking at him, he realized. That gaze cut through him, back into the room...looking at Phillipa like a starving rat. As quick as that, the thing took off. It hadn't gone more than a few steps before someoen intercepted it, a woman in coin mail. The thing didn't even veer off course as the woman slashed down with all of her might; an arm flew aside, spewing black and red blood, clearly corrupted in some vile way. The thing shrieked in pain, and spun, the mass of blackness and red coiling outwards until another misshapen limb suddenly materialized. The thing caught the woman's next swing; one caught the blade, losing several fingers in the process, while the freshly regenerated arm summarily ripped her throat out.

Without missing a beat, the thing charged straight at the door that Torean stood in, his companions still inside.