Quest Lost History

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

In his moment of weakness and clear despair, the Elven-mage of the group approached him. Strangely, being around Elves always reminded him of his youth, when he studied at the Falwood for a short time. They were always praised for their skill in the Arcane and their innate beauty ten-times over. In a way, Sparhawk was envious of Mages of Elven lineage, always being that one step ahead of Sparhawk. Studying couldn't buy everything. If it could, he wouldn't be hunched over, drowning in his own sweat, gasping for air as if he'd just surfaced from the deepest, darkest recesses of the great sea.

"Sometimes we carry injuries that can not be seen by the naked eye."

Wise words, not the first time he had heard them, but that didn't take away from their wisdom. He found it funny how these expressions got about. He'd heard similar words in the Pub he had visited prior. He'd also heard it in the Pub before that... Sparhawk pondered that, perhaps, his visage gave way to these expressions; injuries that lie underneath a tough exterior, never to see the light of day.

As the Elf went to touch Sparhawk's arm, she had retracted her hand a hair swifter than him. He was embarrassed by it. Not by how it looked, but by how it represented the terrible toll fighting has had on him. Everyone knew of the limit of Magick, but Sparhawk had forgotten that; his lust for power had taught him ill lessons, and this was his prize: a blackened, charred arm, that looked as if it were made out of brimstone rather than flesh and bone. It represented all his hatred, his malice, and his inner desire to use the power that had been bestowed to him to inflict pain onto deserving and undeserving alike. If he were truly honest, It scared him. He scared himself.

"..Are you well?" She asked though she knew the answer. "It might not be wise to go into this injured, perhaps I can offer you aid?"

"I'm fine! Don't touch me!" He spat. Sparhawk didn't know what to say. Somewhere within himself, he probably wanted help, but he didn't want to drag anyone into his cursed fate.

"I'm... i'm sorry.. I'm sorry..." He said, meekly, almost sorrowfully. Sparhawk had spent the majority of his life apologising, and this was no exception.

He decided to just get on with it and start travelling. He mumbled a few simple words under his breath, and from the corner of the College, his horse - Nemesis - strolled up beside him. He slung himself onto the saddle, fastening his Staff to the holder he had hurried to create before arriving, and rode off slowly. He hoped that his mood would settle once he'd been riding for a few hours.

___________________________________________________

You're being Watched Maho Sparhawk.
Don't Die.
​

The ride was droll. Nemesis had ridden off on her own 4 hours in, leaving Sparhawk to walk and taking his Staff too. He needed that thing more to walk than to use. He could cast fine without it, but his legs were weak under him. Although, he was used to long walks now, the march to Belgrath lasted 4 weeks, and Sparhawk hadn't the luxury of a horse or his staff then, so he could do without them for now.

The phrase kept going through his head once they'd entered the Forest. Often, Imamu's 'gift' to him would whisper similar phrases all the time, yet he took it seriously. He wouldn't doubt it. Even though it was a likely ploy to make Sparhawk ever more paranoid and anxious, he still believed that it had some validity. The trouble with it however, was the marks on his back began to glow. His robe, luckily, was thick enough to cover most of it now - he'd had it custom made - but he couldn't cover the ungodly red the coveted his eyes. He simply hung his head lower, bringing his cowl to cover himself. It hurt too, the grooves in-between the growing markings stung, their crimson-light like a brand on his skin.

Hopefully a God's knowledge of Fire magic would keep him alive, if anything. He'd been proven wrong before.

"I'll fall back a little. Make sure no one is following our path." He said to the group, meekly. He mainly said it as an excuse to have some time to himself, but he also grew truly concerned that they may be attacked from the same path they'd been walking on. It wasn't the first time he'd been ambushed, and this certainly wasn't going to be the last.

 

[Ynsidia]

Being watched.

Great.

Ynsidia reached over her shoulder and gripped the handle of a Shotel that was almost as long as she was tall. Herself and Thomas Whistler each had made off with one of the dreadful weapons of the Allirian Sunset of Doom Doomsday Cult for themselves. Ynsidia had no Arithily idea how to use the damned thing, but it was imposing, so she slapped it into a cowhide baldric and strapped the sucker to her back to cause that slight bit of pause (hopefully) when she reached to draw it.

She felt confident after a couple of tight squeezes, exhaled and decided to let her mind dwell on other things while her eyes kept vigil. On foot, she wasn't exactly straggling behind, but keeping up with the rest was a bit of a chore. A hard march. Grueling, even.

Mind straying aimlessly, Ynsidia's eyes fell on Calla, and an old tune popped right into her head without her realizing it was because of the Komodo at all. The hard travel, the familiar circumstance of Calla, a Komodi, when Ynsidia subconsciously ran her hands along the chains she wore around her waist under the robes as she often did, her memories resurrected a small piece of the past in perfect clarity.

At first, she started humming it, trying to get the tune right. After a couple of cycles through, she was whistling it, but this proved not enough, and she began singing it softly like a lullaby, almost under her breath. Terrible yet wonderful at once. Not so much her singing, but the memories attached to the song. Ynsidia was no aria of the choir, but she could hold a tune, and she found the lyrics every bit as much a mystery now as they were before. It was a somber little melody though, to be sure.

But sing it she did, and continued to do so, quietly to herself as the all trudged along. Oddly, she no longer felt paranoid about being watched, or anxious about the present circumstances, which was a mercy...now she was overwhelmed with melancholy. Konda, and her mysterious lyrics in what Ynsidia presumed was Old Komodi all these years. Lyrics she knew by heart, apparently, still but never knew what they meant.

On she sang anyway.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

The tall Komodo blinked in surpise as Felen moved her hand and produced a beautiful bloom, reaching out just one shy finger to stroke the edge of the blossom as if afraid that her big hands would ruin the delicate flower. Genuine delight creased her face, especially as Seska’s magic caught it up and settled it into one of the Komodo’s braids. Touching it gently as if to make sure it was still there, the white-haired lizard-woman smiled widely, bowing deeply to the beautiful elf…

“Thank you! I will treasure it, truly!”

It wasn’t often that Calla was given a gift, especially one as lovely as the flower itself. So it was in a particularly good mood that the Komodo embarked on their trip, striding along next to Seska and her mare with an eager smile.

At some point during the journey she freed the crystal hammer from its holster, shifting the large weapon to her shoulder. Intentionally, so that it could absorb all of the sunlight shining down on them as possible, without the sheath to obstruct it. It also served that, as they approached the woodlands and more sounds reached her ears than just the chittering of birds overhead and the rustle of wind in the leaves, she was ready to protect those around her from anything that might come their way. Especially because even as Willis spoke, the Komodo was already looking around them concernedly, her deep red eyes flicking through the trees sharply.

Sparhawk volunteered to watch their flank and the tall woman hesitated, her tail curling slightly behind her. She could hear the strain in his voice, see it in his posture… something was bothering him, weighing down on him -- but before she could press the issue, a familiar catch of phrase tweaking at her ears drew her attention. The little dark-haired girl was singing, and the language… well, it was familiar to Calla. And that was surprising.

She put a hand on Seska’s shoulder to alert her that the Komodo was moving, pausing to allow the others to pass her so that she could draw close to the young girl.

“You speak my language?” she asked politely in Komodi, putting her hand to her chest as she inclined her head politely. “I do not know many humans who bother learn it…”

 

[Fèlen]

The reaction that followed Maho's outburst to her offer was only a sad nod, her gaze shifting to the ground before her attention was pulled to the Komodi. A smile returned to peach lips as the reptilian woman's eyes lit up at the blossomed gift, a special beam reserved for Seska as her magic carried the bloom into Calla's hair, though it was quickly replaced by a faint glare towards Willis's sour remark towards her favor.

"You seem to only take things at surface value. I would encourage you to perhaps open your mind to deeper possibilities." She huffed faintly, offended by his meager opinion of her flower as she strode forward, keeping pace with the other women.



The professor had not hired transportation to taxi them from Elbion, as it was most likely that any would refuse a trip to the Wilds, not even wanting to ferry the group closer to it. It was hardly a bother for the well-traveled elf, her wayward ways sometimes leaving her with only her own two feet to carry her to her next destination.

As they drew closer to the Woodlands, Fèlen's clothing drew closer around her form. The flowing sleeves and skirts lost their transparency as they grew thicker, tightening around her ankles and wrists into a billowing romper to allow better movement. The pastel hue grew deeper, coloring into that of the evergreen that began to surround them as they ignored the bloodied sign and blending in with the environment.

Willis's remark put her on guard, steel eyes glancing towards Maho as he offered to fall behind. Her own steps slowed, allowing her to follow slightly, though she respected the mage's space and allowed him to bring up the rear with her only a few strides ahead. As far as she was concerned, none of the others had noticeable injuries or minds that might be heavily distraught with trauma. Should anything happen, she would be nearest to those who needed the most aid.

 

[Smiling One]

"Well, shit!" Willis said to Seska's rather sassy response. "I'm sorry for reminding you." Willis was rather put off by the Sheide's backhanded compliments. To put it bluntly, the young man's first impressions on the species weren't very favorable, to say the least. The despondent mage named Maho Sparhawk said that he will hang back and watch the flanks though Willis knew that he didn't want to socialize with the rest of the group.

Calla was conversing with Felen about the flowers the Elf placed on her hair. She was full of giddiness and thanked Felen, Ynsidia, on the other hand, was singing softly. Whatever the lyrics Willis couldn't hear but he went to the young girl nonetheless and poked her shoulder. "You shouldn't be singing," Willis cautioned. "There are a couple of monsters who are drawn to the sound of a human's song. In a way, you remind of me of a girl who was slain by one such creature."

Willis remembered hunting a creature that is named by the book of Monsters as Songslayer: A demonic being with long talons and huge ears. As the name suggests, Songslayers are attracted by songs. Bards or girls who love to sing while working were its favorite targets. Willis took on a contract to hunt down the Songslayer who recently killed a young girl who strayed too far from her village. Willis found eventually found the Songslayer in a cave singing a song called he recognized as Maiden with flowers in her hair. Presumably the song the girl sang before she was to shreds.

After a long and agonizing fight, Willis slew the beast though he was covered in scratches by the Songslayer. For his efforts, Willis was paid only half of what was promised with the girl's father claiming that was all he had. "Then why offer a big reward?" Willis remembered himself saying but he took the gold and paid his respects to the little girl. "We're going need a group to scout out the place first before moving to camp!" Professor Ekbon announced. "Any volunteers?"

"I'll go," Willis replied. "I got a group willing to back me up." Andy snorted. "I'm not going with you." he glowered. "I'm not talking about you ya limpdick prick," Willis said turning to Maho, Seska, Felen, Calla, and Ynsidia. "These are the people whom I intend to take with me if they want."

Willis then smiled. "You'll be shitting your breeches at the first of a monster anyway," he said to Andy. "Remember-"

"Oh fuck you!" Andy retorted.

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

Was nice of you to ask us, she thought to herself but said nothing. This was, after all, what they had come for: exploration of this particular piece of wild and untamed ground. She would never admit it aloud, but she was truly excited to see if there were a group of creatures that had managed to avoid her notice entirely over the years. She did not think it was so, but she had been alive long enough to know that assumption was a deadly mistake at the best of times.

She did not dismount from the little mare of hers. The stride of all these people was too great for her to keep up with short of running, which was both undignified and tiring. She fixed the Komodo with a friendly smile at the touch, and then reined her horse in, allowing it to fall back. It was to Maho that she now gravitated, curiosity finally besting her. He had been acting strangely since they had left Elbion, and that piqued her interest. Of all those here, he had spoken the least, remained the most aloof.

She eyed the other sell-swords a she fell back, too. Andy was someone she would relish watching die, as was obviously the fate the Goddess had in store for him. Sooner, or later. The others were more reserved than he was, including her own personal thorn. She did not like the fact that she had to rely on that man, Andy, or a handful of the others to be her shield. Calla was too sweet a creature to sacrifice willingly, but the others were too caustic.

A problem for another time.

"Two sets of eyes are better than one," she said as she fell back to ride alongside the human, giving enough berth to him to not encroach upon his personal space. She side-eyed the man, getting some sense of the trials he had endured in the past, the things that made him so...erratic, in her mind. "The others have the fore, we can assay the rear," she said quietly.

 

[Ynsidia]

"You shouldn't be singing," At these words, Ynsidia stopped mid lyric, and regarded Willis, who had spoken them. "There are a couple of monsters who are drawn to the sound of a human's song. In a way, you remind of me of a girl who was slain by one such creature." he added promptly

It was sound advice, and Ynsidia nodded her assent, then watched the beautiful man depart, eyes dropping low briefly.

"Those pants could do to be much tighter, sir..." she said under her breath to herself, watching Wills' masculine rhythm while he walked. A naughty grin formed on her lips, the lower lip of which she bit down on as she was so affected by hormones.

That's when Cala suddenly loomed tall, and large before her. Ynsidia's mouth hung open for a few short moments of naked awe, then she managed to close it by the grace of some God. The Komodi really were something. Ynsidia felt small...well smaller, and younger than she was now. Her mind ever in the past of late. Cala's stature was notable, and comparable to Konda's.

Then Cala spoke.

“You speak my language? I do not know many humans who bother learn it…”

Ynsidia, honestly, had know idea what she had said, but it occurred to her that the words spoken sounded strongly similar to the song she was singing, and given that it was a song she learned from listening to Konda sing it softly, she could assume it was Komodi, as as the words being spoken at her now.

Ynsidia blushed.

"I'm sorry, I only know the song, and not even what the words in it mean," Ynsidia confided, bowing her head a little, staring at her own booted feet.

When she looked up at Cala, it was expectantly, almost longingly.

"I've sung the song so many times and always wondered..."

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

Calla had just approached Ynsidia when the man, Willis, spoke and caused the young woman to cease her song. The Komodo’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing, instead dropping into a crouch next to the young woman so she could speak to her as close to an even level as she could manage… Calla was nearly twice as tall as the young woman, after all, and she did not wish to upset her by towering over top of her.

The Komodo’s words, though spoken in her clean, careful Komodi, seemed to fall on blank ears; the dark-haired girl in front of Calla did not respond or seem to recognize what Calla was saying… and the Komodo smiled, though she couldn’t help the small pang of disappointment that lanced through her. It was already a rare thing to be among those who did not sneer or avoid her, to find someone else who spoke her tongue would have been truly wonderful. Still, the girl knew a song, and Calla knew the words --

But before she could continue, the Professor was hollering about needing a scouting party… and Willis had volunteered them.

The white-haired woman considered the situation, the giant crystalline warhammer still held lightly and easily on her shoulder, before turning back to the young woman she’d been speaking to and offering her a warm smile. “If you would like it, I will happily translate it for you later tonight, once camp is established,” she replied, offering her hand to shake on the promise. “Until then, stay close to me, little one. I would not see any harm come to someone with such a lovely voice.”

With that promise given, the white-haired dragon-kin, pushed herself to her feet.

“I will happily lend my hammer to ensure a safe camp,” she stated, then turned to search. Finding Seska standing back by Sparhawk and Felen, she reached one hand out to the silver-haired Sidhe. “Come, Seska! Shall you ride on my shoulder? Your sweet mare may stay with the others, out of danger, and you are very light, you shall be safe… if you do not mind it, of course,” she added a moment later, carefully, keenly aware that she was not one that most desired being close to, much less being carried by.

The Komodo looked to Sparhawk, then over her shoulder to Willis, forming it in her mind. “Willis, shall you lead, then? I shall walk in the middle, with Felen and Ynsidia and Seska, if they’ll abide me, and Sparhawk to bring the rear?”

She nodded in satisfaction with her own plan. She had the greatest reach of all of the more prepared warrior-types, meaning she’d be most able to spring to the defense of any of the less-armed members of their party… and while Sparhawk seemed burdened by something, he also carried himself with a quiet strength. She had confidence in him, and in Willis, though he did not seem to share that confidence in Calla herself. It mattered little to the Komodo, honestly.

She would protect them and see that they were unharmed, and that was her most solemn duty.

 

[Fèlen]

There was no place Fèlen felt more comfortable than when she was surrounded by wood. The very life of nature ran deeply within her veins, giving her comfort and assurance. The Woodlands were just as welcoming, eagerly accepting their nymph into their brace. Yet there was a darkness that brought Fèlen pause, her gaze confused as she looked through the timbres, trying to assess the cause of discomfort that burrowed within. It was angry and hateful, blanketing the otherwise peaceful forest in an aura of dread.


This distracted her from the happenings of the others. Ynsidia's singing and Willis lecturing her, Maho's usual introverted behavior, even the offer Calla made to Sesk for riding on the komodi's shoulders that would have resulted in Fèlen's envy. She shivered faintly, fear prickling at the back of her neck as Willis looked towards her expectantly.


She blinked, having missed the scouting discussion and only catching the monster hunter's most recent words. She simply shrugged her shoulders and nodded lightly.


"Whatever is needed." She agreed.

 

[Smiling One]

The Crows continued to sit on the ruins and the trees of the forest watching them intently. Willis crinkled his brow and placed his hand on the handle of his Cutlass. "Felen," he whispered to the Elf. "You specialize in Nature right? I need you to watch the Crows and tell me if they're following us."

Maybe he shouldn't be barking out orders to a group of experienced people (though Ynsidia is a kid) but Willis couldn't shake off the feeling that someone or something was watching them. "Toad!" Willis heard one of the Crows say. "Toad! Toad!" Professor Ekon stared at the Crow blankly. "Well there are some Crows who would repeat words they hear," he said. "Like a Parrot."

"Yeah," Willis muttered. "But has anyone in this group mentioned Toads?"

Professor Ekon shrugged. "Maybe they heard that word from other travelers."

"Sage! Sage!" Another Crow shouted, a shiver went down Willis' spine and he continued to grip the handle of his Cutlass. "Right...." he said still staring at the Crows. "We'll scout the area out we'll be back."

"Don't shit yourself running to us Willis!" Andy laughed while staring at Felen. "If you're scared my lady, just run to me and I'll warm your belly."

"How about I castrate you and feed your balls to Biter?" Willis growled motioning to the group "let's go." As they left Willis could hear Biter talking. "Biter loves balls!" he said chuckling. "Will Willis give them to me?"

"You won't have to wait long," Willis mumbled under his breath.

After an hour of walking in the Forest, Willis didn't find anything unusual aside from hooting from Owls and Cricket's chirping. The young man mind wondered to the talking Crows. Professor Ekbon claimed that they were just parroting words but Willis didn't believe him. It was possible someone or something was controlling these birds, It was a mistake coming to the Woodlands whoever they were they will be ready for the expedition group.

The group finally arrived at the Archelogy campsite and the entire place looked like it was ransacked. Frowning Willis scanned the area. There were claw marks all over the ground with burnt residue that looked like it was caused by acid. There was a deep growl from the bushes and Willis immediately drew his Cutlass. Round, fierce monsters appeared with long claws and tattered skin. There were about 7 of them and they were ready to attack the group.

"Manes!" Willis shouted. "They're capable of dark magic be careful!"

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

The disquiet that had settled over the group washed over her like water, leaving her dry. The unnerving sense of being observed meant little to her, as she was already alert to their surroundings. She had not lived as long as she had by being a fool, by taking needless risks.

The little fae smiled at Calla, one of true warmth. For some reason, the Komodo filled her heart with the warmth of companionship long denied the wanderer, the outsider, the other. Perhaps it was because she knew that the Komodo were often treated the same, and this lady had such a sweet disposition...

"That would be wonderful," she said as she dismounted from the little mare. And it would be; a better vantage point and closer proximity to aid the groups greatest asset.

While it was a bit undignified being lifted like a child, especially with some unsavory men she did not trust not to look up her skirts. Once seated, legs straddling the great Komodi head, horns providing handholds for her insignificant weight, she found she had a commanding view, and a wonderful partner to chatter with.

The archealogical site was a mess. Tents were torn to shreds and tools scattered around as though the place had been searched, but if it had been then it was by beasts of some kind. Tent poles bore deep gashes from claws, and the acrid scent of something nasty yet lingered.

What came from the undergrowth was repulsive. For a moment, she considered unveiling her sorcery, but decided that this threat did not warrant it. She laid a hand upon the leathery scales of the Komodo's shoulder, and whispered into her ear: "Should your hammer require a little...extra," she said, and left it for Calla to figure out.

This was not her fight, unless there was call to counter some dark magic, anyway.

 

[Ynsidia]

When they made camp. Ynsidia would finally know the words. She reached to shake Calla's hand, her own eclipsed by Calla's, spurring another flash back to days long past. Old memories.

"I can't wait; thank you..." Ynsidia managed then, not realizing she spoke almost airless. She was excited, truly happy for the first time since Pandemonium. Joining the group to look ahead, Ynsidia was, naturally, revolted by what she saw...but not really horrified. The unspeakable things in the Crimson Mists were far more unnerving. Still, these things looked capable, and would create very bleak combat circumstances for many, herself included.

Producing one phial of ink and two phials of her own blood from her extravagant, garish garments, Ynsidia pulled the stoppers off each, and poured the contents out, making a scarlet and onyx pool at her feet. She hovered her hand above it all, and began with the words she knew so well.

Over thee I cast,
Myself is thine canvas blank.
Possibilities.
My blood is dawn red,
Coaxing you to awake now.
Breath your first day!"

First, a featureless head formed, then shoulders and the top of a torso. In a blink, arms, the rest of the midsection, and the start of the hips. Then, finally, legs and feet. Like pulling a rabbit from a head covering, Ynsidia had pulled a foot soldier out of a puddle of ink and blood.

She grinned proudly at her creation, withdrawing the Shotal from her back and handing it over to her construct.

"Enjoy the space, but let's mind the allies and there limbs now, dear!" Ynsidia said playfully in jest, as if the thing had thoughts of its own. Her master could imbue his constructs with a fuzzy sense of self, but she had to place a bit of her conscious and meditate into her own to make them function, and she controlled all actions, and felt all their destructions...sometimes intensely.

The construct turned, and stalked into a defensive posture next to Willis.