Quest Lost History

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

What seemed to be a small girl took complete control of the room, her voice booming towards the professor who looked upon the group of warriors, wanderers and well-meaners he had amassed for the uncovering of the mysteries of this 'Toad-Temple'. She seemed to take strong action towards the professor, questioning his integrity and reliability in a mission such as this. Which was fair enough of course.

Most of the professors at Elbion were very good at talking. Unlike himself, most of Sparhawk's friends went on to either work for wealthy royalty as court guards, or went on to become professors and Scholars, holing themselves inside of Elbion, learning the Higher-secrets, covering ground that had been trod-on many hundreds of years ago, by many more than a few. Most had never stepped outside of Elbion following their Mastery of the basic arts, and becoming Adepts in their chosen Specialisation. Sparhawk had chosen to search the world and find what he was looking for, which - he knew - was outside the safe, secure walls of the College.

If he was the only one there, he would've done the same as the girl, questioning the man's experience in this field, and whether the mission he was asking the group to embark upon were the words of someone with experience and deep knowledge in the field, or only the latter.

His attention was taken away however, as the hulking Komodi next to him seemed to greet him sweetly, and very kindly;

"Hello, small man, I am Calla. Sister of Nua Nua. I shall endeavour to not let your beautiful staff get broken again. Or your face. Or any of your bones. I have never experienced it myself but I am told it is very painful.”

She held out what he could only describe as a 'hand', scaled and equally large in comparison with her. In all his time meeting Komodi, never had one shaken his hand. Actually, now he thought on it, it had been a long time since someone had simply greeted them out of curtesy and kindness. It warmed Sparhawk, to think someone could show such integrity, when the likelihood was that most were afraid of her, simply for the fact she was a giant in comparison to them.

Equally enthusiastically, he slid his staff back onto his back, and met Calla's hand with both of his, shaking it kindly.

"My name is Sparhawk. It is a true pleasure to meet you, Calla; Sister of Nua Nua." He'd given her, what he had thought, to be the first genuine smile he'd given in quite a while.

 

[Smiling One]

Ekon Larkin was sure eager to get started on this quest, was he not aware of the dangers that lurked in the Woodlands? There was a reason why it was also called the Wildlands. "I wouldn't judge the capabilities of someone before you have the chance to see them actually fight," Felen whispered to Willis in a tone that sounded like she was lecturing him.

"It's just first impressions Felen," Willis mumbled. "I've seen too many green people die grisly deaths, guess I'm just numb to it." She is a Komodi, so she had a higher chance of surviving this trek as opposed to a human.

"Prof. Larkin, while Seska's statement is a simplification meant facetiously, it does address an obvious concern. Men and magic rushing to points on a map sounds logical until you find out that the lines leading to those points are more arduous, or more perilous than expected, and the destinations empty of reward." Ynsidia spoke up. Willis wasn't paying too much attention to Seska and the others but Ynsidia had an excellent point one which the other mercenaries seemed to agree, except Andy who scowled at the young girl.

"But, being tutored in this lore myself, and familiar with your research as well, I have to challenge the basis of the whole expedition. Our knowledge of the Wildlands is limited, hence why we call the area wild. The Toad Monk lore is hard to pin down, as much of it is oral, passed on to the parchment, then to bound pages from rhapsode origins-translated, and re-interpreted. I have no doubt we will find structures at the points on the map, Prof. Larkin, what I doubt is whether we will find anything pertaining to the monks of myth at all at them."

Willis again at Ynsidia's words nodded too much danger for going to a place which may have evidence to a species that went extinct long ago. Even veteran monster hunters agreed that the Toad Monks were no more and that looking for them was futile. The Professor was furiously nodding his head looking like he already formulated a response.

"I do not like talking myself out of a good wage, but I know that the burden of proof is upon you, Professor. Make me believe that you have succeeded where all others have failed, and I will follow you into the Wildlands. Otherwise, I will not venture for desires, and dreams. I did that in the mists. I will not do it again here, and neither should anyone else until you can produce tangible evidence that we will be risking our lives for an actual discovery out there." Ynsidia said.

"I agree with Ynsidia," Willis chimed in. "Not even the most battle-hardened monster hunters have scoped out the Woodlands. We don't know what's really out there. Too many people have died gruesome deaths or just disappeared. I'm not going in there blind without the reassurance that you know what you are doing."

Being a monster hunter often meant going in blind anyway. However, this would be equivalent of going into an active Volcano blindfolded and without any clothing. "Of course!" Professor Larkin said taking out a Toad Statue from his bag. "This is the statute of a Toad Monk!" he said excitedly. "It was uncovered by the college's archeological team a few months ago during their trip in the Woodlands. The Professor, a dear friend of mine showed me the artifact and after weeks of examination, I can say with 95 percent accuracy that it belongs to the Toad Monks and by the looks of it! The statue seems to be only 20 years old!"

Willis raised an eyebrow he was still skeptical of this mission. "Come on Willis!" Andy said standing in front of the crowd. "We are all here to get some coin are we not?!" He announced. "Aye!" many mercenaries responded in unison. "We're not pussies like this childish cunt and her tall cunt friend! We have survived worse have we not!"

The mercenaries shouted. "Aye!"

"I'm not an arsehole who still sucks on her Mum's tits!" Andy yelled at Ynsidia. "I'm a man who will beat the fucking brains out any prick who gets my way!"

Andy then pointed at Willis, the despondent man, Felen, Ynsidia, Seska and the Komodi. "You cowardly cunts can stay home and suck each other off!" he yelled. "I'm here to make lots of coin while adding myself to the history books. What do you say mercenaries!"

The mercenaries cheered while Professor Larkin stared at Andy with his mouth dropped and his ears reddening. Willis glared at Andy, unimpressed with his "speech". "Maybe I should cut your tongue out Andy," he said. "Your mouth spews out more shit than your asshole does."

"FUCK YOU!" Andy drew out his sword and charged at him. Willis sidestepped out of the way and grabbed him from behind the neck holding his old "friend" into a sleeper hold. "Just go to sleep buddy," Willis whispered as Andy dropped his sword, the weapon tumbling from out of his hand and next to Felen's feet. Eyes becoming glassy, Andy lost consciousness his hairy body slumping on the floor with Willis releasing Andy from his grip.

As soon as he did so, Willis looked at Professor Larkin and the others. "Sorry about the mess," he said.

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

The sorceress made an ameliorating gesture to the professor, but did not offer further comment on his convictions of what it was he had found. She found it highly amusing that these children thought that the Woodlands and Wildlands had been mostly unexplored, and were too dangerous besides to do such. There were very few parts of this world that she had not visited, even if the memories of some of them were already fading. Doubtless, the memories of some were already long gone.

Something about Calla was infectious, even to her. The old fae couldn't help but feel a certain amount of trust in the huge woman, who towered over her even more than most of the others did. Trust was something that the Sidhe was loathe to give freely, but in Calla, she felt, she could place her life in to those enormous hands. Turning to the woman, she gave her a genuine smile, eyes bright with that rare trust. "I am called Seska, Calla. I am greatly pleased to meet you," she said earnestly. She pitched her voice lower, although it was impossible for her to make anything she said from the dragonkin's ears alone. "I wish to give you a gift, my friend, once we leave this place."

The mouthy human - Andy, was his name - and his rage washed over the Sidhe without any visible effect. What was the purpose of even responding to the bastards, anyway? She had lived more than a thousand times the bastards life, and knew that caution always beat out bravado, all of the time. That was why she was still here, and he was on the road to an early death. Especially since she would provide no aid to him, none whatsoever. She would extend her protection to the hussy, even, but not to this hot-headed, vile human being. Who, as far as she was concerned, was the embodiment of why magic did not belong in the hands of such as humans.

Instead of doing anything, she climbed on the bench next to the Komodo, completely enthralled with the earnest on honest nature of that woman.

 

[Ynsidia]

Felen's reassuring arm across her shoulders was the kindest gesture she'd received since a strange man wordlessly offered her tea awhile ago. Her eyes actually watered for a moment before composure ruled over her emotions, but the break in expression had to have been noticed.

Kindness.

It still felt foreign since Pandemonium.

Lost like the favor of her right hand. Her left, strangely, had become the familiar hand. But kindness, familiarity was almost gone. Her emotions still felt jumbled, a mess of ingredients that didn't mix properly anymore, requiring effort to combine them properly. The mind, her very own mind, had become something of a majestic. But it helped that she was among beings that didn't weave spells of dream. The likelihood of ending up in a dream spurred by anyone present was highly unlikely...

The room buzzed with excitement as Prof. Larkin proved some level of findings for most. Not all though. Not her. The object was...well it was tangible, but was it really evidence? She could question, and almost did when conflict broke out. The mercenary Andy jumped the crossbow and went straight to invective language. Willis shut him down in short order, and the mercs settled into the conclusion of things. Ynsidia could have walked out right then, but the 'period' put at the end of her speech with Andy's salient rhetoric and Willis' quick execution left her in a light where walking away would look...shameful...

If she left now, many would call her out on going back on her word. She couldn't afford anymore damage to her reputation; between leaving the employ of the Vel Anir nobles after several disastrous affairs with Templars, and an elf incognito...But the 'evidence' still seemed thin, weak to her, at best. She looked about the room, and had to conclude that regardless of her worries and reservations, the cast of mercs was substantial. If they found sand, they would find it together with little to no one lost along the way.

Ynsidia huffed, and shook her head.

The die was cast.

Gripping her Rapier, Ynsidia thought of a fellow adventurer from Alliria she'd met before coming to Elbion, wondering if he'd have enough sense to back out in the face of promises of compensation and supposition. Thomas Whistler was a steady man because he hadn't been dragged into the world of words and bonds yet. He was still coin on commission. If the commission was too complicated, he left.

Lucky man.

Turning to Felen, Ynsidia's eyes strayed to the Komodi, and an absent minded, broken smile formed on Ynsidia's face, eyes suddenly sad fixed on Calla. She opened her mouth, halted, moved her lips wordlessly, then closed her mouth. A question aborted. Maybe a greeting. Now was not the time. Maybe now would never be the time. Never could be.

Best to let the bygone days of her life remain where it belonged; behind her.

After Pandemonium, everything felt amplified...including the hurt of the past. With a flourish of her intricate robes that was more than overt and showy, Ynsidia turned to leave. Packing would be necessary, and closing her account out at the Inn was in order. It was time to for another quest into the unknown. It couldn't be as bad as what she'd endured beyond the mist, after all.

Or could it?

"I guess we'll find out..."

She said to herself openly, but anyone could easily mistake it as a reply to the object produced by the Professor.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

“Sparhawk,” Calla repeated, to make sure that she had the human’s name right, but… also with this delighted note to her voice. It was fairly often that even her greetings were spurned, so to have first the small silver-haired woman and now this human respond favorably, it was a moment that the Komodo enjoyed. “This shall be a great adventure and we will do much good!” she declared, shaking his hand(s)... which did in fact threaten to lift him right off the bench if he wasn’t careful.

The tall Komodo had just turned back to the silver-haired woman, to respond to her. “Seska. I-” but before she could continue the man from before, the one that had spat words of dislike at the others in the room, was now pointing in her direction, indicating her and her newfound friends, and the Komodo’s proverbial hackles rose, her eyes narrowing to slits. That smile had disappeared, and the look on her face was now something much more akin to what one would expect from a descendant of a dragon, predatory and sharp.

The man charged and instantly, with speed that was too fast to be reasonable for a creature her size, she was on her feet, though she didn’t leave her post by Sparhawk and Seska, her tail lashing and a loud hiss of displeasure coming from her throat.

He was very lucky that the other man dispatched of him, Calla would not have been nearly so … restrained.

It was only when the man was on the ground and most definitely unconscious that the Komodo sat back down.

Too heavily, there was a sharp crack and the bench sort of gave way a little bit and Calla stood back up with this awkward expression on her face. Instantly, the predatory sharpness was gone, and she was just this tall, very concerned white-scaled being, looking between Seska and Sparhawk with her hands held half-out as if to make sure she could grab them both if the bench gave way underneath them.

“Sorry! This is why I usually stand, but I did not wish to tower. I have been told I loom,” she apologized.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught the small one who had spoken with a confidence that belied her young years staring at her, and the Komodo returned her look with a smile. Which… was perhaps a bit more awkward than perhaps intended, since it showed off her sharp, glimmering teeth. The dark-haired one turned away from the Komodo with a strange look on her face and Calla deflated just a little bit. Oh, right, teeth, she reminded herself, with a slight sigh. She had to remember how scary she was to little ones and their delicate squishy selves, and how important it was to be careful with them…

“Great! We are going, then? I am excited to find some big toads!” the Komodo said, apparently ready to go… that moment…. Then again, what other than what she carried did a giant dragon-woman really need?

 

[Adonia]

The Professor did his best to encourage the group, producing an ancient statue as if it would mean more to the sell-swords. Fèlen had also grown skeptical. The group had not been vetted, the professor so eager to gain the fame and glory from discovering something previously hidden that he was willing to throw a group of random strangers of varying expertise into a place so wild and dangerous that it had not even been fully traversed yet. He was sending people to their deaths.

As if this weren't enough to call the entire quest into question, the violence-hungry brute began insulting the majority of the group, unable to handle the situation without extreme emotion and rage. Fèlen's grip upon Ynsidia tightened once again, defensively. He charged towards Willis, his abrupt attack easily countered as the steel of his sword clanged on the floor. Fèlen stared down at it, sighing before she picked it up and examined its blade. Amateur work in comparison to feore smithing. She turned the hilt towards Willis for him to take.

"This is getting out of hand." She murmured mostly to herself, casting a gaze towards Ynsidia that easily conveyed questioning whether they should actually travel with these people. "I try not to make it a habit to fight alongside others so willing to attack me as well." Her words were encouraging, if the Ink Conjurer chose to leave, Fèlen would follow, though she did not intend to allow the younger girl to go off with this fool-hardy group alone.

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

This was an odd gathering to put it lightly.

Sparhawk had expected to find a room of Wizards and Warlocks, talking to the professor, enquiring what was to be found and sought, and then to do it. Instead, he found himself surrounded by a bunch of arguing, absent-minded, unbearable brutes, who can't stand one saying something to offend the other. Sparhawk thought people would have sense, and know that when someone threw an insult into the fray, one knew not to take the bait. But, he was clearly wrong in this assumption.

The choke hold was impressive however. Sparhawk was expecting to find a body slumped on the floor, blood spilling into the cracks of the ancient Hard-Wood flooring that was laid across the College. But Willis seemed to have a handle on the situation, not having to kill the man. He knew he could've though, which put Sparhawk both at great ease, and confirmed Sparhawk's fears.

Larkin was looking not for people with great curiosities into the Higher-Arts of magic and the mysteries of the Temple. No. He was looking for people who could handle themselves in a fight. The mercenaries had spurred this thought, but Willis had confirmed them. Experienced fighters who had the experience of many brawls and duels. This temple would more than likely hold many unsavoury creatures.

On the bright-side, i won't have to do much fighting.

Even the youngest of the Group seemed to know what she was doing, her Rapier one of admirable quality.

I should get me one of those...

He noticed the statue that the Professor had presented. A perceived proof that their quest was one of paramount opportunity. It struck him as odd that he'd show the statue to a bunch of sell-swords and mercenaries an artefact that would require - at the very least - more knowledge than how to swing a hammer of use a whetstone.

All this pointless talk was beginning to frustrate him. He was usually so patient, but the looks from the college faculty he got from simply being in the college made him uneasy. Not to mention he had a slight hangover, which never helps. He just wanted to get going. He just wanted to get walking towards whatever this temple was, and try to take him mind of Belgrath, Gerra, and everything.

"Oh- Can we just... Go already?!" He tried to murmur, however saying it a little louder than he'd planned, advancing to an angry grunt.

I just looked like an idiot...

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

"People insecure in and of themselves would say such, Calla," she replied, sliding from the splintering bench. She had been completely unphased by the sudden shift in the enormous woman. But she also refrained from comment regarding the insufferable sword-and-bows with their sharp tongues. "I think you are fine they way you are, 'looming' or not. Excuse me a moment..."

It was the elfin woman she sought now. Something about her rubbed the Sidhe the wrong way, but she buried that deep, away from the light of day. Anger and annoyance was not due, yet; someone flaunting themselves was hardly new or even uncommon. Maybe it was a little jealousy for a woman who found it easy to relate to others, and could have any company she wanted? If that was the case, it was a bitter truth to swallow.

She made her way towards Ynsidia and Felen, moving through the packed room with relative ease. There were advantages to being pint sized, even if those were few and far between.

"What do you figure the odds at," she began in her high pitched voice, stepping alongside Felen, "that we will make it through this adventure without having to bury a few people along the way?"

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia cast a glance over her shoulder at Seska.

"Ideally, none of us should die if the venture is structured properly, and all elements of the exposition fully mapped out and realized..." Ynsida said evenly. "...but, there are factors that can't be taken into account - namely the unpredictability of the Wildlands, the fact that we are a group of apprehensive, volatile individuals in it for the money rather than to further knowledge stuck together, and then there's the whole possibility that these Toad Monks may not be happy seeing us trespass on their sacred places, and..."

Stopping herself midsentence, Ynsidia sighed, bringing her hand up and tilting it back and forth like a seesaw.

"60/40." Ynsidia declared, looking ahead again. She was being optimistic, technically.

"The Komodi's mere presence makes me feel better about this whole endeavor!" Ynsidia added as they went, quickening her pace some.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

Calla offered her forearm as aid as Seska got to her feet, a happy smile sliding over the Komodo’s face as the silver-haired woman’s words. Fine the way she was, said the smaller woman, and that made the towering dragon-woman pleased. It wasn’t often that others shared that viewpoint, and it made the scaled woman more determined to do her part in making sure that they made their way through this adventure unharmed.

She nodded her understanding as Seska excused herself, making her way across the room to the woman like a sunbeam dancing on a flower petal and the young girl with the confidence of a warrior. The Komodo watched for a moment, knowing that she herself could have made it through the crowd if she’d wanted to, but also keenly aware that doing so would only bring more attention to herself and her size. And while both Seska and Sparhawk had been kind to her, so far, she hadn’t missed the scathing looks from many of the men around the periphery of the room, including the one who’d spat venom at her. Best not to give them more reason to dislike her.

Her own readiness to go seemed shared, however, as Sparhawk muttered (shouted? It was clear enough to her ears, but she never judged humans’ hearing well) about being ready to go as well. Carefully, she put a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him.

“I have found that the hardest part of any journey is the point after you’re ready to go but before you’re actually going,” she said. “What is that saying… ‘The only impossible journey is the one where there are apples to be had’? … wait. No. that’s not it. Hm. ‘You need to start an impossible journey with one step’! … hm. I don’t think that’s it either. Oh, I can’t remember. But it shall happen soon, I’m sure!”

She swished her tail once, in affirmation of her statement, content to stay where she was until most had filtered out of the room already. Less chance of her knocking someone over or earning herself any more ire than already. Though, standing next to Maho, she had to keep tilting her head so her horns stopped knock into the light that was hanging from the rafter to one side of her.

 

[Adonia]

The warlock who had previously been wallowing in self-pity now seemed to be growing impatient, grunting such aloud, though this was not what caught the half-elf's attention.

The smallest of their group had approached despite how offended Seska was by Fèlen simply existing. The nymphling had been purposefully avoiding Seska's gaze. Now it was unavoidable, lest she blatantly ignore the Sidhe, something she was currently unwilling to do.

Ynsidia responded to Seska's question first, giving Fèlen a chance to glance around the group, her features shifting into that of pessimism whilst the Conjurer fantasized of what they might find in the wilds.

"I am mostly certain that we will lose people. If not to the dangers of the wilds, then..." She allowed her silken tenor to drift as her gaze landed pointedly on the fallen Andy. "Though I will do my best to prevent that from happening."

 

[Smiling One]

Biter held the knocked out Andy on his lap, "Willis shouldn't beat Andy," Biter remarked his face etched with sadness. Willis gave Andy's younger brother a sympathetic stare. For a bloodthirsty beast raised Andy to be savage and brutal, Biter can look very sad especially when his brother gets harmed.

"Don't worry Biter," Willis smiled patting his shoulder. "Once Andy wakes up he and I will shout at each other for a few minutes then go back to being friends."

Friend was a bit of a stretch Willis hated Andy and vice versa yet they strangely they always wind up working together. Though Willis spent most of his life inflicting violence it did not pale in comparison to what Andy did. Andy was a former soldier of Val Amir and he quickly gained a reputation of being savage and cruel committing unspeakable war crimes to the point where Andy was kicked out. He and his brother: Biter then became Mercenaries where they could get paid to kill.

Throughout his mercenary career, Willis sometimes wound up working with the Andy and Biter. He didn't know why maybe it was fate's cruel joke, but Willis, Andy, and Biter worked together in numerous jobs and even fought in a battle being part of the Vanguard who overpowered a larger force. Willis saw first hand of what Andy was capable of whenever they met and it sickened him. The only things he was grateful for Andy was his connections to the black market and illegal fighting pits.

Professor Larkin grabbed his bags and began heading towards the courtyard. "This is less of an academic excursion and more of a battle," he said shaking his head. "I just hope when we find the Toad Monks that they don't think that we're conquerors."

"Given the company, you keep," Willis said. "They may think so if we ever find them."

Professor Larkin's head dropped down in shame and he headed out of his office the rest of the mercenaries following him. Willis looked around for Seska, Ynsidia, and Felen but they were nowhere to be found. Willis found them conversing about their odds of survival. "That's an optimistic projection," Willis said smiling. "Maybe I'll grow wings fly away."

Leaning on the wall, Willis sighed. "Seriously, I don't feel too good about our chances. No one has ventured deep into Woodlands and lived. Not even powerful mages or battle-hardened Monster Slayers. This Larkin guy is probably leading us to our deaths. But if we stick together who knows? We might lose limb or two but we might just survive."

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

After his outburst, Sparhawk decided to calm down for a minute. Whilst everyone else was still talking to the professor, overhearing the smaller girl talking about their slim chances - which, incidentally, didn't put Sparhawk's mind at ease - the Komodi put her intimidating, yet comforting hand on his shoulder, and spoke to him:

“I have found that the hardest part of any journey is the point after you’re ready to go but before you’re actually going,” she said. “What is that saying… ‘The only impossible journey is the one where there are apples to be had’? … wait. No. that’s not it. Hm. ‘You need to start an impossible journey with one step’! … hm. I don’t think that’s it either. Oh, I can’t remember. But it shall happen soon, I’m sure!”

The words, no matter how clunky or inconsistent they sounded, were more comforting words than Sparhawk had heard in many a while. She hadn't been the first to try and give him wisdom and advice, but unlike the others, she didn't lecture him; she didn't pretend she was anymore than she was. Truly, her words were spoken from a place of not just kindness, but of friendship and sincerity.

"You need to start an impossible journey with one step... i like that." He turned to look up at the towering Komodi, and shot another smile. He must've looked quite the sight however, as a mix of hangover, unkempt beard, facial scars and overall tired expression didn't tend to make for the most endearing expression. He, however, didn't care - whether that be last night's drink or his lack of sleep, he didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to make a good impression now, even if it was just for this colossal Komodi whom he had only met minutes prior.

Moreover, he was getting tired of all the negative discussion happening to his right. For some odd reason, if only for that moment, he felt like the Sorcerer he was before... everything. He felt like the young, adventurous sorcerer who sought out great treasures, climbed fantastical structures, and fought creatures from the deepest recesses of Arethil. He felt like he could've felled a giant, battled the greatest Warlock in the land, and beat the finest Swordsman in the reach with his hands tied behind his back.

Of course, none of this was true - or plausible, but he couldn't help it. It was as if all the voices that wouldn't leave his head were silenced, if only for that solitary moment. All the sleep he hadn't had didn't seem to matter, as energy filled his body, and air was pumped into his lungs. He could've sworn he was taller at that moment.

"You look like you've survived your fair share of Battles, looking at the Sell-Sword you just... took care of." He said to Willis, who was currently leaning on a wall, - with a playful undertone in his voice.

"I have a feeling we'll be just fine; limbs intact." He gave Willis, yet another, smile.

I won't feel like this for much longer, but hell if i'm not enjoying it whilst i do!

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

She glanced at Felen but said nothing for a moment. After a long enough moment, it was to Ynsidia that she replied, first. "Money?" she said, a little amused. "I do not do this for money. I do this because it is something new, and that alone gets me excited more than I have been in a very long time."

She looked at Ynsidia and Felen, and then at Calla - a stone, a rock in the river that the flood could not budge. The little lady had really taken a shining to the giant Komodo, though she would never, ever, ever admit to it. Taking a deep breath, she looked turned to face Felen very directly. "I do not know why you've rubbed me the wrong way, Felen. But I do know that we ladies must look out for ourselves, especially given certain...individuals." There was no need to bring Andy's name up, or Biter, or any of the others. She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders by simple admission of the fact that the beautiful woman had, in some way, raised her jealousy to the forefront. A clean start, perhaps, if she was willing to let her attitude from before slide.

Though that jealousy had, of course, not gone anywhere. Survival was more important than her perceptions, though.

She offered a hand in truce. "Let us begin again?"

 

[Ynsidia]

"Let us begin again?"

The Sidhe was mending fences. This was hopeful. If Seska was willing to extend the branches of friendship where there was some animosity before, than perhaps the rest of their group would be predisposed to do same. This adventure would be like flying arrows at midnight, enough light to walk a path, but too much night to aim by; they would be lucky if they found what they were looking for. A volley in the dark. So, the thought that cooler heads might prevail among them was a positive thing, something to be desired, and cultivated.

Ynsidia looked back and regarded everyone behind her. Seska. Felen. Willis. Sparhawk. Vanin. Andy. Biter. A capable assembly of people that seemed more than skilled, though Sparhawk did look a bit weathered by something more than physical, there was a spark in his eyes right now that made her pulse race a little.

Then her eyes leveled on the Komodi again.

A sad, ghost of a smile surfaced briefly, Ynsidia's hands straying to the shackles she wore around her waist. A constant reminder of a harsh time, and now another reminder walked not far behind her. It wasn't that she looked familiar, similar to the one she'd met long ago, but the character of all good hearted Komodi seemed to be in the same spirit.

The innocence in spite of familiarity to violence. The unguarded kindness in the face disdain. The politeness and joviality before disrespect and distrust.Whatever the Komodi heart was actually made of, Ynsidia had settled for the sentimental notion that it was always of the purest gold. She huffed as she turned away, muttering only to herself as her past grew clear. Calla bringing her back to the 'Start' of her maze of memories.

"Yes. Let us begin again..."

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

Calla watched as Sparhawk seemed to settle more into himself, perhaps shaking off whatever it was that he carried. Unlikely… more likely, thrown it to the side until it caught up with him once again to weigh him down. The Komodo gave his shoulder another -- gentle, careful, mindful of his smallness and his breakability -- squeeze with her hand, silently making a promise to him.

I will help you bear it, Sparhawk, until you are ready to set it down.

Though the only proof of it was in her head and her smile.

Still, as Mother Petunia said, the words said inside one’s own head were one’s own reality. It was up to Calla to shape her reality regardless of what others saw when they looked at her. The Komodo watched as Sparhawk moved over to the other group of beings and engaged the dark-haired man who’d put the nasty one into a blessed state of unconsciousness. They were discussing odds of survival, the Komodo’s sharp ears caught it all… but those discussions weren’t for her. She knew where her skills lay, and it wasn’t in that bit.

Calla’s gaze took all of them in -- the band of mercenaries, which she was already taking to not be too much of her responsibility, since they didn’t seem the type to appreciate her help. No, there were the five small ones in front of her, and the Professor who’d scattered from the room. That seemed a good start.

The smallest girl, with the dark hair, looked back at Calla once more… and this time she didn’t seem afraid, just sad, and thoughtful, and touching something down by her belt, and the Komodo’s head tilted slightly to the side.

The action, however, knocked the lantern right off of its hook and it went sailing through the air. Calla snatched at it, grabbing it just before it hit the (wooden) floor and spread fuel and fire everywhere. Oh. Human places. Troublesome. She very carefully hung it back in place, hunching her shoulders forward as she moved.

“I shall wait outside. For when you are all ready to go,” she told them with a slightly abashed look to her face, mindful of her horns as she moved past them towards the courtyard.

Obviously, she’d caught that they weren’t leaving until the next morning… and it very much seemed like she intended to simply find a spot out of the way and wait until that happened. She’d eaten earlier in the day, she’d be fine. As long as it didn’t rain. She didn’t like the rain… it wasn’t the wetness, but the cold, that bothered her. She didn’t always stay as warm as the small ones did.

 

[Fèlen]

Optimism did not emanate from the group. Even Willis, who had seemed somewhat excited before, now chirped in his own opinion of their unlikely chances. Despite this mood, Fèlen did not seem wary or very much concerned for her own well-being, especially since they would be making their adventure in woods, surrounded by the very element that ran within her blood.

Seska seemed to join this excursion out of sheer boredom, her ambiance that of something far more ancient than any of them might have seen. She sought a truce, as if Fèlen was partially to blame for the harsh perceptions the Sidhe had towards her. Many had been the jealous lovers who had hated Fèlen in her previous occupation, their spouses and courters preferring to spend their time watching every sway and whirl of the half-nymph's hypnotic movements and paying good coin to do so. However, she had never been held at such disdain from first gaze. At least, not to the level of Seska's scorn.

Stirling eyes set on the proffered hand, unsure of how much weight Seska's words truly had. Many were the responses that flitted swiftly to the halfling's mind, as it was a struggle not to take the Sidhe's previous glowers as a personal offense. Yet her supple fingers of her hand found themselves winding around one much smaller than her own, her hold soft yet firm, the smile she gave anything but false. Once upon a time Fèlen had been shy, timid, and controlled, these traits had been trained out of her, though her kind heart had remained resilient.

"I can assure you we never have to meet after this task is done, until then, I will do all I can to protect you and the others." Her words held resolve, confidence, and finality. Fèlen was ready for their journey to begin.

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

Sparhawk didn't feel his optimism simmering down, and the squeeze on his shoulder from Calla offered him a little comfort along with his bettered mood. It seemed that the group was readying to make their way on their journey. Joy was an emotion he scarcely felt these days, and he savoured the moment. Each passing minute seemed clouded in a blue mist that could only be described as invigorating. But - of course - like all things, he knew it wouldn't last forever, and as his mood seemed at it's peak, a red darkness obscured his mind, as if a creature had crawled up his back, and begun to whisper in his ear.

The Fire Spirit-ling.

When 500 souls had been paid, he had received his Spirit-ling. He'd expected it to be a familiar that could help him in battle, or protect him in times of danger. But, when you deal with a god such as Imamu, nothing is straight-forward. It didn't exist in the physical realm, but took a hold in Sparhawk's mind, feeding him the word of his Master, and filling it with doom, unlife and malice.

Sacrifice them Sacrifice them Sacrifice them not friends they're not friends Sacrifice them and pay your debt your debt must be paid sacrifice them-Sacrifice them Sacrifice them Sacrifice them not friends they're not friends Sacrifice them and pay your debt your debt must be paid sacrifice them-Sacrifice them Sacrifice them Sacrifice them not friends they're not friends Sacrifice them and pay your debt your debt must be paid sacrifice them-Sacrifice them Sacrifice them Sacrifice them not friends they're not friends Sacrifice them and pay your debt your debt must be paid sacrifice them-Sacrifice them Sacrifice them Sacrifice them not friends they're not friends Sacrifice them and pay your debt your debt must be paid sacrifice them-Sacrifice them Sacrifice them Sacrifice them not friends they're not friends Sacrifice them and pay your debt your debt must be paid sacrifice them-
​

Sparhawk suddenly felt sick again. He felt sweat trickle down the contours of his face, hot with it. Unlike earlier, he now felt like the smallest insect on the smallest rock in the world. He felt powerless. Weak.

Everything is fine... Keep your mind still Maho, don't forget everything. Everything will be fine.

"I'm going to t- to a, to take..." He could feel his heart-rate increase as he spoke. He was beginning to stutter like he used to. He hated that. He took a moment, composed himself, stood up straight, and spoke clearly:

"Forgive me, i shall be outside for just a moment;" As he said this, he made his way to the entrance he came into the College from, and gasped at the fresh, clean air. The sensation of it filling his lungs brought him great relief, as he felt his body getting progressively hotter, as if he had been put inside of furnace. He needed a moment. Or - perhaps - two.

 

[Smiling One]

Willis gave a small smile at the group. A Shiede, a beautiful Elf, a kid who knows a lost magical art, a depressed anti-social mage and a Komodo. Forget the rest of the mercenaries hired for this excursion especially Andy and Biter, these seem to be the people whom he'll trust to succeed where many experienced explorers and monster slayers failed.

"Well you guys," Willis said. "Thanks to the warm fuzzy feeling I'm getting from you all, I feel that our chances of survival just went up 10 percent. So instead of a .01 percent chance, we have 10.1 of living!"

The depressed mage apparently didn't see it that way judging by the way he left for the main entrance gate looking shaken up. Willis raised an eyebrow that's the last time he puts his faith in people. "What's with him?" Willis asked Felen as they walked towards the entrance gate. They were entering dangerous territory and already they were already off to a lovely start with one asshole being knocked out by him and from the corner of Willis' eye being carried by his brother and another being emotionally stunted.

Willis didn't help matters as well but he got to put it in the past now or at least try. "We're ready to go, Professor," Willis said approaching the Professor who had his map and frantically reading possible avenues.

Professor Ekon smiled. "Great!" He said. "Let's get moving!" Willis sighed, "I don't receive hazard pay for this do I?" he grumbled and began following him.

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

An inclination of the head was her response to Felen, that of one to an equal. It was the best that the half-breed could expect to get out of Seska, and even so it was given gladly. The Sidhe rarely saw the purpose in being deceitful to other people, unless the purpose was to deceive them unto death.

And that is a rather unpleasant course of action, anyway. She looked up, a moment, at some stirring of her senses. It was a peculiar feeling indeed, and it came from the man that had been sitting opposite Calla with her, on the bench. Not something she was completely familiar with, either, or else something uncommon enough that she had not encountered it within memory. It would bear watching, to see what developed from this.

As the so-called intellectual bid them be on their way, she was forced to consider the man who was setting this entire thing in motion. She had seen plenty of scholars in her days walking this world and others, and it was remarkable to her how so many of them seemed virtually identical in their dispositions. It had to be something to do with spending far more time around tomes and books than people and the world, leading them to be completely ignorant of how the world itself worked. What other excuse was there for hiring such a menagerie of people, from all walks of life and all different disciplines?

She was then led into wondering about what it was they sought. Toad monks. The name did not stir any memories within her, which was in and of itself not remarkable...but the timelines that this so-called sage had offered did not indicate that she should have forgotten them, had they existed in any meaningful numbers. Which was to say, she believed that their erstwhile scholar was perhaps a bit less than accurate on his thesis regarding these elusive creatures. It brought too many things into questions, but the possibility of something like this that she might have missed over the course of centuries...

Well. It was intriguing to say the least.

As they left the building and entered the grounds of the college proper, her pony came into sight, mildly trotting along unguided. A fellow followed close behind, a nasty bruise on his face turning an ever uglier purple and black, and it didn't take much imagination for the Sidhe to connect the dots. The fellow had tried to steal her little mare, and Nightwind had decided that she didn't approve.

The little pony was perhaps something a bit less than equine now. The little mare had been with her for hundreds of years, far outliving its natural lifespan. It was due to the sorcery that the ancient sorceress had plied on the little horse, something that grew increasingly difficult to maintain over the years. A certain affinity had developed between the two of them in their long relationship, and the mare could sometimes anticipate her masters' desires before the Sidhe herself could even know her own mind.

It was always a chore to keep up with the bigger people and their larger, longer steps, and so it was with a sigh of relief that she took hold of the reins, glaring at the strange man that had followed the horse here and was already trying to melt away amongst the passersby as if nothing had happened. She took the carved staff of hers, and placed it in the scabbard specially made for it on the saddle.

She was ready, now, to deal with whatever it was would be coming.

 

[Ynsidia]

Ynsidia missed the rest of her allies met in Vel Anir now even more. Mischa, Aldren, Tian; they all would be excellent additions. Felen was an immense comfort, though. Hells, she would even be happy with Kolvar being present in spite of how they met. They didn't care for each other, but there was something about sharing each other's secrets, and holding them against one another that made life both surprisingly dreadful, and exciting.

Dwelling further, she wondered if he was still maintaining his guise. She also spared another thought to Thomas Whistler, hoping he'd turn up again someday...

Back in the court yard, hearing everyone talk among themselves, or climb atop an adorable pony, Ynsidia spotted Sparhawk, and decided he deserved a bit of dwelling. The man was beautiful when he smiled, but the present state he was in was definitely his default state, she realized. This man, this Sparhawk, had been to some bleak places, probably, had seen and felt things one couldn't really share with anyone more than likely. The burden of a spell slinger, Ynsidia was no different. She could relate.

They could relate.

She did her best to describe what it was like to Felen barely an half an hour ago, but couldn't really convey it. The experiences there had effected all senses. Touch, sight, taste, sound, and soul. Walking over to the man, she noted his heavy breathing, the gasps and sweaty face, and her mind went straight to the aqueducts of bad thoughts. Thoughts involving hot Summer nights and hotter Summer passions, tight grasps and merciless desire. Face flushing, Ynsidia left Sparhawk to his nerves, and hurried away to the gates and exited the college grounds.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty anxious about all of this too," Ynsidia said to herself what she wanted to say to Sparhawk before her burgeoning adult drives made everything all wrong and embarrassing.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

Travelling was not something that the Komodo found particularly taxing or unpleasant; her long legs made it easy for her to cover ground and her natural stamina made it relatively taxless. She enjoyed being outside, too, underneath the warm sun that made the cold-blooded woman feel distinctly more lively and with all the sights and smells of the natural world instead of the more… odiferous and strenuous ones of living in-town.

So it was with a decidedly happy countenance that the Komodo fell in with the rest of the group as they made their way out of the college and onwards, towards their destination. Any worries the white-haired creature had about their odds of survival or the likelihood of their deaths didn’t seem to give her even the slightest pause Instead, she fell in to step next to Seska and her small but hardy pony, though she’d find her distance if it seemed like her presence was unsettling to the mare. Animals could sense the dragon in her, still, even after all these generations, after all.

Sparhawk would find the Komodo always ready with that warm smile, too, almost unflappable in her calm, steady optimism.

Still, niceties were important, as well.

As soon as she was able, she’d find reason to introduce herself to the elf who smelled of flowers, pressing her hand to her chest as she inclined her head slightly, that earnest genuine frendliness to her voice. “I am Calla of Nuastone. I will do my very best to ensure that no harm comes to you and that we are successful in our task!”

In much the same manner, she’d introduce herself to the dark-haired man who’d silenced the rude mercenary, though to him, she said, “Thank you for your prompt action in ensuring the safety of the rest of our company. We shall have to endeavor to protect each other, indeed!”

She tried to introduce herself to the mercenaries, but all but one of them, a simpler man who stared at her without responding, seemed unconcerned with her attempts to be polite.

Her attempts to introduce herself to the dark-haired young one, too, provided unsuccessful, if only because every time Calla tried to approach her, something seemed to get in the way, as if fated not to be. The Komodo resolved to try once they reached their destination, as the actual travel ebbed and they had time to actually interact. And, of course, see to their task concerning these elusive Toad Monks, whatever those were.

 

[Fèlen]

Slate orbs trailed after the mage after Willis questioned his state of mind. Pity wrought her features, the bloom she had placed on his cloak seeming to have lost its effectiveness.

"Sometimes we carry injuries that can not be seen by the naked eye." She responded, looking to Willis with a gaze that encouraged empathy. Her steps continued to follow Ynsidia's, an amused smirk pulling at her lips as the youth's cheeks grew red before dismissing herself. The nymphling stayed behind momentarily, offering the mage an encouraging smile as she placed her hand gently against his arm.

She had meant to speak words of encouragement but instead frowned as she felt the abnormal stiffness of what was supposed to be flesh. She retracted her touch swiftly, hoping she had not injured him.

"..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?" There was little time for him to respond, as Fèlen's attention was eagerly grabbed by the towering Komodi.

Calla's welcoming introduction brightened the half-nymph's face with a grin, her own hand rising to rest on her chest.
"I am Fèlen, and I promise to do the same." As her hand disconnected with her collar, a bloom frothed. Much larger in pearly pink hues that mimicked the shimmer of Calla's own scales and opening wide to entrance with a light, friendly fragrance.
"I think this would look lovely in your hair."

 

[Smiling One]

Willis understood what Felen meant, sometimes the wounds one deals with aren't physical he should know that based on his experiences with his mother. The young man stared as they all comforted the man and Felen gave Calla flowers for her hair. Willis raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "They're going to rot easily once we reached the woodlands," he mumbled.

Willis walked ahead to Professor Ekon who was busy looking at the map he was about to say something until Willis heard a stir to the right. Craning his neck, Willis could see Andy waking up in Biter's arms with the first person saw was Willis. "Fucking hell Willis...." he grumbled.

Willis smirked. "Someone had put you in check," he replied. "You were ranting like a fucking mad dog well then again you do look similar to a mad dog. Probably uglier."

"Benny put me down!" Andy said and his younger brother obeyed. "You're lucky I didn't fuck you, bloody boy!" he growled.

Willis began to give a hollow laugh. "I suppose I am lucky," he said. "It'll be hard to fuck me with your 2-inch cock."

Andy was about to reach for his Ax but couldn't find it he turned to Biter who held it up high out of his reach. "Andy no fight," he said. Willis laughed. "Ha! The one bred for the fighting pits is the voice of fucking reason! Andy you're having a bad day!" Andy cursed under his breath stared at the road ahead. Willis' smile faded, he sure loved fucking with Andy though the shit deserved a slice to the throat than some light-hearted ribbing.

Willis though fell quiet as he stood close to Professor Ekbon who was still absorbed with his map.

(OOC: 10 hours later)

After a long and arduous march away from the College of Elibion, the group finally arrived at the Woodlands. A sign was displayed in front of the forest full of splattered dried blood and deep scratches. Still, Professor Ekon could make out the sign "keep out," he read. Willis crossed his arms his whole body feeling sore after 10 hours of non-stop walking, he looked at the sunset and back at the forest. There were ruins that dated back to the Age of Tales, glowing fauna and some Squirrels and Racoons chasing one another.

There was also a flock of black Crows each sitting perfectly on top of the ruins staring at the group with some crowing at the group. Willis frowned at the birds placing his hand on the hilt of his weapon. "What's the matter, Willis?" Andy asked. "Fraid of some birds?"

Willis ignored Andy's attempt at an insult he had a terrible feeling about all this turning to the group Willis sighed. "We're being watched," he said.

Professor Ekbon was taken aback. "W-We are?!" he asked while Willis nodded. "We should set camp as soon as possible," Willis said. The Professor nodded. "Yeah there's a place where the Archeology team used to set up," he said. "It's only 2 miles into the forest."

The mercenary bit his lip. "Keep your wits about you!" he declared still staring at those Crows. "We may have somebody throwing out the red carpet for us."

(OOC: Music for the Wildlands:

)

 

[Seska the Dragonslayer]

If Nightwind had any concern for the Komodi walking alongside, the stout little mare didn't show it. And why should she? The mare did not have the same memories that her two-legged companions did, not in the same way, but so long as the diminutive sorceress was nearby, the little pony seldom showed any sign of skittishness or concern. Hundreds of years spent in the company of that worthy had proven to the horse that whatever came up could be handled with a minimum of fuss. Such was the child-like innocence of a horse for its owner, or at least one that had been a constant companion for so long.

For her part, the sorceress stuck close to the Komodi, comfortable in the presence of the indomitable woman. She had not lived as long as she had without learning the value of companionship and cooperation, even if she was often very selective with whom she decided to put her trust. The Komodo had earned it, and as had the elfin woman despite her particular grievances, which were all maladies of her spirit, not that of Felen. She even took the blossoms with a stirring of wind, the breeze carefully crafted to entwine the offered bloom into Calla's hair without the giant woman having to life a finger. She was rather proud of the handiwork, even if the loss of that sweet flow of power dulled the moment.

--

The woodlands hardly looked as though they deserved their reputation, but then, the reputation had come from the professor, for which the sorceress was something less than optimistic about. The shadows that the canopy cast over the woods themselves, and the flora and fauna, hardly seemed out of keeping with many wooded hillsides and valleys that she had seen through the course of her long life. There was nothing here that even remotely seemed out of place or dangerous.

She sat the saddle of her little mare as serene and calm as a monk might have been, and looked back at the crows with calm disdain, the faint glow in her eyes hidden by the light of day.

Besides, she thought the sign was a nice touch. The fact that they were being watched did not go unnoticed, though the vector that the watcher was using didn't render itself immediately or easily recognizable to her. It didn't matter to her, at least not for the moment. Whatever red carpet someone rolled out in welcome to the party, she would not be the one to rush to the forefront and paint a target on herself. That was, after all, what they had hired swords for.

She found it slightly amusing that so many of the sword-and-bows were so eager to be condescending and outright hostile with the only people who could pull their collective bacon off the fire if anything truly serious reared its ugly, soon to be decapitated head. There were one or two that she did not think she would bother to waste her precious reserves protecting, and wold secretly enjoy watching being slaughtered like the pigs they were.

"The day I need a young pup like you to tell me to keep my wits about me," she said in reply to the young mercenary who had choked out Andy (one of those she would enjoy watching being torn limb from limb), "is the day that I become senile and too old to think straight." Neither of those scenarios seemed very likely. "Lead the way, then, and let us finish our milk run."