Open Chronicles Notice Board: Missing Child

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“Today’s catch? This is a regular affair then?” Kiros inquired, astounded at both the notion and the candor with which the elder had spoken, and returned to him a question as blunt as his own statement. While it was certainly the case that the particular child he was in search of was taken days prior and could not be among the others spoken of, Kiros’s concern was not solely upon Liam. He hadn’t accepted the task out of motivation of reward, but to reunite a missing boy with his mother. And here before him was one claiming to be responsible for many other missing children. It would do him no good to state his own disgust. Without co-operation from the elder, they’d be unable to recover Liam in time. Should the elder learn that Kiros sought to free any captives, and not just Liam it was further unlikely that he would offer them any help, as he appeared ready to do. And so, Kiros swallowed his hate for the beastkin and maintained the stoic but polite demeanor as a veil for his true opinion.

He then pulled out a pipe and began to smoke from it. The sight of it prompted Kiros to do so as well, pulling his etched silver pipe from his robes and filling the bowl within with dried smoking leaf. The calming act would ease the process of negotiations, despite his reluctance. “Suppose we have no choice.” Spoke Garrod, seemingly sharing his aversion to discussion, yet acknowledging its necessity. Kiros returned a nod in agreement.

"i trust that the gods guide you but i do not trust the demons they lay with" The elder added, while the others whom he bid to be docile dragged the bodies of the two they had slain. One seemed to twitch, prompting Kiros to kneel for a closer observation. He was mortally wounded, and the impact to his skull was severe. Though he was not quite dead, he was in a state that appeared beyond what his healing might mend. Strangely, the one Garrod had slain carried no sign of life, and was well beyond resuscitation. Unaware of Belephus’ power or presence within Garrod’s gauntlet, Kiros dismissed the oddity as little more than an exceptionally swift and clean kill. He remained unaware of the true reasons that the body had no further attachment to the soul.

“And what demons do you speak of?” Kiros asked, with his eyebrow raised. He wanted to hear out the elder out of necessity, though there was some small curiosity as to what demons he might be speaking of. As sacrilegious as the accusation may have been to any other member of the cloth, Kiros held no reverence for his own deity and took no offense at the notion.

If it turned out that She did consort with demonic forces, Kiros might be appalled, but far from surprised. That would be like Her, wouldn't it?

blain the cat Garrod Arlette
 
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the old man took a long drag from his pipe. and thought intently

"the ways of one man can be seen as barbarism when the ways of others seem simply a common occasion both may see the other as savage" he said matter of factly.

"the gods above dictate that the land and all its beasts of burden are for the king of the Forrest to command. our lord demands tribute in the form of beasts of burden" he gestures to the cage of people.

he reloads his pipe and takes another drag.

"killing us would only anger our lord and not because we died but you deprived him of what he is considered owed to him, its not important weather this is a common affair or not what matters is how things are settled, im acknowledging you as sentient creatures lets be civil, you are in far more need of information so i will freely reveal a trickster demon in your midst's and we will go from there."

the old man threw a ball of herbs into a bush. he pointed at the scout boy who had been keeping his distance from the adults. he fetched what was in the bushes. blain was curled up in the young boys arms pureing.

the old man growled for the boy to hurry.

he grabbed blaim by the scruff of his fur. the look in his eyes were like any other cat and that part that made him blain was silenced.

"this cat has a dybbuk demon within it usually they are demons seald in boxes but a skilled caster can seal a demon within an animal as well, its able to change your perceptions and even freed from your mana to sustain its ability's easily subdued by a little cat nip the effects are slighted and the cat becomes safe again, i wouldnt trust a dybbuk demon they tend to ask for simple things no doubt this one wants a safe place to sleep eventually it will consume too much mana leading to the death of its companions.

blain shook his head and that twinkle in his eyes returned

"dont listen to this creature it wants a talking cat; it could make millions off me in some circus"

the old man re dowsed the cat in cat nip. setting it down beside kiros
 
Garrod blinked. Then laughed. "A circus?!" he called out, as blood still trickled out from hot wounds and his heart still pumped to the pulse of his quickened heart. "All this to make coin from a circus act?!" There was bite in his voice. Anger that turned to guttural growl as he held tight his bloodied blade.

Yes. You should kill them, oh bearer mine. No no. You should let me kill them for you. His demon whispered with perverse delight.

The hunter snarled and peered around to the right of the tree his eye looking for marks. A few big ones out in the open, but he was sure some stalked about the treetops, likely armed with bows or some type of ranged weapon. He could see the scant licks of smoke and embers that smoldered on about the camp. And the cages.

That is right, oh bearer mine. Find them. And we will hunt them.

He pressed himself back behind his cover, and shifted his sword down to rest its weight against his body. "What's the move, Kiros?" he asked between them. With his blood still running hot, and the pain of wounds racking his nerves, he did not trust himself to make the decisive decision.

Kiros Rahnel blain the cat
 
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Kiros listened to the old beastkin's words, growing more irate the more he heard, and what he heard was nonsense. The elder attempted justification for the very act that had prompted their deployment in search of Liam. Kiros could not have the slightest regard for the word of gods whom deemed people to be beasts of burden. The beastkin may think Kiros a barbarian. Not only could Kiros think likewise, he would further consider himself correct in his accusation.

That their god was terrible did not matter. Kiros' own goddess was horrible, and yet he did not carry Her word through without forethought. His own principles were among the few things he could keep with him throughout his ordeals.

“And why ought I care what your gods deem unholy, when they are clearly hostile? I care not what you deem demonic. Your information carries no use.” Kiros countered, his hand gripping Heirahit with a scowl. “You attempt to sway me with a deal I don't desire, for a price I do not value, and against principles I do?” He added, with an incredulous tone colouring his words.

"Whats the move, Kiros?" Garrod asked. The question was fair. He had little motivation to establish peace, but all the same he still held no confirmation of Liam's whereabouts, and the beast kin yet might. Though beyond Liam, Kiros' concern extended to those others in captivity. Monetary reward mattered not. All the same, Kiros had yet to discover Liam's location, and the beastkin before him was the only presently available source of information. Perhaps confrontation was unavoidable, but between battle and rescue, the latter was more important.

“Perhaps a last chance at reasoning.” Kiros replied to Garrod, before turning back to the old beastkin.

“Likewise, that killing us shall anger my god. Thus, the wrath of the heavens appears unavoidable, does it not?” Kiros added. He knew full well that She wouldn't care, but the beastkin did not. Numbers as they were, they had shown their ability to fight. The beastkin might not wish to see further evidence of it.

“Reveal the child and release the captives. Or dare you call divine bluff.” Kiros demanded in conclusion, concealing his own bluff in doing so.

blain the cat Garrod Arlette
 
the old man smiled un waverd by threats of violence.

"do you also see it abhorrent to enslave chickens and cows? there are even birds that can speak do you consider them to be more than just birds? if a cow came to you and said you were evil for the things you do to them would you release them to be free? dont think yourselves moral just because you can think and speak, its a simple fact that you posess no souls that is the truth weather you agree with us or not, the point is moot in the end you will see the world through filtered eyes while we see clearly, i dont need you to understand us, i asked for parley because you attacked us.."

he smokes on his pipe once more before putting it away.

"these are your choices, give me the devil cat and i will release your kin and we can go our separate ways, the location of the kin you seek will then be relinquished to you, or we can finish our battle and in the process i will have all these life stock slaughtered in the name of our gods" he growled losing patience with the humans before him
 
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Garrod gave the priest man a nod. One last chance at diplomacy before more blood letting broke loose.

Fucks. He hated fighting people.

He focused on his breathing as the priest negotiated the business. Or tried to. Garrod felt the strain on his limbs. His wounds from earlier, still slowly oozing out warm blood. The action cooled, his pain was starting to become more felt, and his jaw clenched as he tried to keep his focus. He had suffered worse. He would suffer this, and live through it.

That boy. They would save him. Else, what was all of this for?

The old beastkin man refused the dialogue, and redoubled his position.

"Fucking damn it all," Garrod growled as he held tight his weapon once more, his heart picking up with a penny's worth of panic. "Hey, look, maybe we... give them the cat? Take the kid, then tail these bastards to get our cat friend back?" he whispered to Kiros. What else could they do? He sure as hell didn't know.

Kiros Rahnel blain the cat
 
That the old beastkin spoke ill of his god and doubted Her existence hardly mattered. Kiros himself wished he could have such freedom to speak of Her with such candid disparagement. Yet that he disputed the existence of Kiros soul was found infuriating by the priest. He had spent years after years toiling in is efforts to redeem himself from the sins he had committed, and the beastkin’s flippant dismissal taken as an insult to his very existence.

“You dare speak of morals, when you hold none?” That holding slaves was considered a holy privilege of the beastkin did not matter to Kiros. He’d frequently ignore his own goddess Itra’s stated scruples when he found them abhorrent, a far from infrequent occurrence. Appeals to divine doctrine could not carry much sway to a priest who so frequently rejected them. Nor did he care for much else about the beastkin’s speech, which drove him within a hairs width of starting a fight at his comment regarding the lack of a soul. Kiros had spent laborious years in search of redemption. Choking up his hold on his staff, it was only the sight of the younger slaves that gave him pause. Those held in captivity would become slaughtered hostages at the onset of battle.

As much as Kiros wished to bludgeon him for such sacrilegious remarks, he could not. Innocent lives remained hanging in the balance, and he could not justify placing them at risk or reprisal.

“We attacked you because you clearly attack our kind and hold them captive. There is no judgement. Merely adversarial hate.” Kiros uttered through closed teeth. He then looked to Blain with great hesitancy to give him up, caught within a moral dilemma of the beastkin’s making. Forced to choose whether he’d allow multiple innocents to perish under the blades of the beastkin, or to condemn the cat under his own agency. Yet the scenario before him carried nuance. The slaves would surely die if he opted to save Blain, but Blain might be rescued before his demise. To Blain, Kiros delivered words the others couldn't hear.

“We shall return to your rescue.” He assured.

Kiros looked to Garrod with a disquieted pause. Though his decision had been made, neither choice was comfortable.

“Very well. To see the slaves released.” Kiros reluctantly delivered his answer.

blain the cat Garrod Arlette
 
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the old creature stroked his fur. calm once more.

"our people may be far too different to ever see the light of the gods the same but if your to find the child you speak of there will be a struggle. in both diplomacy and bloodshed, we are the last collection party before the season ends which means all the tribes will be in the king's land offering tribute to his rule, thats 40 percent slaves 10 percent cattle and 25 percent gold."
he picks up blain setting him in a small cage.

"this offering will pay my tribes dues tenfold. ill be able to stay in our village with my children and grandchildren for at least 4 summers. by now the group that took your offspring isnt here and no doubt closer to there home by now. you should look a few kilometers or so into falwood the kings lands begin there perhaps you will catch up to them before they enter the kings lands, once inside you will need a skilled negotiator or an army to save that child"


he smiles to himself and begins whistling while his men look at him like hes nuts.

he unlocks the cages holding people. he waves his hands and disappears into the forest. his men run after him careful not to turn their backs to the now free humans he growls.

"if his holiness had not stopped us id have eaten your liver! " he growled before stomping into the woods
 
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Taken to the king's lands. This poor child they had come to save. Sacrifice and tribute. Cattle.

The old lion did not even have the child.

Garrod flared, his sharp and straight teeth gleaming as they caught the sun's light. "This fucker didn't even have the kid," he growled. He looked to Kiros again, gave the solemn priest a nod. "We wait, for the prisoners to fun free," he whispers. "We track, and kill these fucks, and get back the cat," he assured himself as much as he did Kiros, his hold on his sword, sure and firm.
 
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Kiros had nothing further to speak, simply glaring at the beastkin and his words. Far nastier beings had threatened him with far worse. Having made the exchange with great discomfort, he was relieved that the beastkin kept up their end of the bargain by releasing their slaves. Blain had been placed in peril, but it was at least not done so in vain. Those who had regained their freedom owed their lives to the feline.

The elder then mentioned where he through Liam might be. It seemed more likely to be a ruse than honest direction, when they had no motive to tell him the truth. Kiros had healthy doubt that he was truly being helpful. The reaction of the others might provide a hint, and he looked to the others to see it. Bewildered as they all appeared to be, none gave any protest to the direction the elder beastkin had given.

"This fucker didn't even have the kid," Garrod growled out.

“No, and I doubt he spoke truth of his whereabouts.” Kiros remarked in response, watching as the beastkin took their leave from the area and disappeared into the woods.

"We track, and kill these fucks, and get back the cat," Spoke Garrod, echoing the very sentiment he had in mind.

“Surely, they are travelling the same way. By their account, they intend to be at this gathering as well.” Kiros said. “Yet the odds remain against us. It is but us two against many.”

“I’ll accompany you.” One of the released slaves spoke.

“I as well.” Added another. “You’ve spared our families. We're no combatants, but it's the least we can do to help.” He affirmed. Kiros wasn't sure how much help they could provide, though any assistance was a valuable boon to have. He'd not refuse it.

“Our thanks, though the challenge remains daunting.” Kiros replied, before turning to Garrod. The others, the old and the children expressed their gratitude for their freedom and took their leave, leaving just the four of them.

“Best to allow them a small head start before we follow. But then, we'd best be quick.” Kiros spoke. After a short moment, the group would move forward to pursue Blain and the beastkin.

blain the cat Garrod Arlette
 
the drums could be heard for kilometers hundreds of lion men beating there goblin hide drums and makeing yips and Howels, the music became a constant background noise as the group tracked the lionmen into lion men territory. a camp sat in the middle of the woods. hundreds of people lion men and human alike were gathering slowly some with carts filled with furs and wares other carts with human livestock and elven livestock. a huge bon fire sat in the middle of a clearing as female lion men danced around it, some form of entertainment was being presented by the lion men, men laughed and drank with each other others were seemingly putting on mock battles as others cheered and hollard. among the noise sat the king of the lion men. his thrown was makeshift at best but clearly decorated with skulls and bones of all types of creatures one of his eyes were sown shut but otherwise he seemed to be the largest and strongest of the lion men. he stood and let out a roar that halted everyone in there tracks. he clears his throat and raises his cup of mead.

"i welcome all that have come to my domain!" he yells. "many of you are here today because tax session is here and you wish to pay respect. others are here to just drink my mead" he looks over at a particularly drunk man "like this guy" he points at him and everyone laughs. as the drunk man passes out.

"before the real harvest festival truly begins come to me and present your gifts and tax" he slams back the cup of mead and everyone begins lining up in front of him
 
"Well fuck," Garrod said, as they stared at the gathering from their vantage point. With all the lionmen milling about, they had to be extra careful on their approach.

With the four captives rescued, and willing to risk their lives, it made it all the harder. But, Garrod hunted monsters. Knew a few tricks to throwing scents off. Took a bit of prepwork. Hunting a bit of game, deer and badgers and whatever they could find, skinning them, and rubbing oils and musk from harvested glands over the still trying pelts.

It was better than shit.

A musky forest critter, well, even the keenest sensed beast-kin folk would have trouble smelling the human under that. It may have made the others uncomfortable, but, Garrod had grown accustomed to such tricks.

"Might be," Garrod said, pointing to the trains of captives. "We try and spring them free... get more people to fight alongside us?"

What the hell were they even doing anymore. They had just been out to save a child. Now... all of this.

Garrod turned ot Kiros, looking to see if the priest had any ideas.


blain the cat Kiros Rahnel
 
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It was much easier to track the beastkin than Kiros was worried it might be. After a bit of travel, the sound of drums was audible throughout the forest. It did not come from any village or settlement he was aware of, nor was the beat recognizable as such. Slowing to a pause, he took a moment to intently listen before turning to Garrod.

“Garrod, do you hear the beating of drums in the distance? They do not sound orcish, nor human.” Kiros observed aloud to his companion. He couldn’t tell that the drums were beastkin, but it seemed likely enough that they were. Regardless, it was a sound to be investigated, and Kiros followed the source of it. Careful to step silently, Kiros lead the way forward through the brush. It took a few moments for the two to reach the gathering from which the drums were beating.

There were many beastkin present, and among them one appeared of elevated important. Seated upon a throne with dancers surrounding him, he was clearly their king - or whatever word they referred to for their regents. He demanded gifts and taxes from those in attendance, and Liam was likely to be among them. Blain was certainly around, if the beastkin spoke truth of their intent to gift him.

Garrod turned to him, and Kiros suggested a course of action.

“Hold. If they'll present what they have in their possession, let's see it first.”
Kiros commented, keeping still where he was hidden. It seemed better to wait, than to take immediate action. Throughout their search, they'd been in need of further information, and now there was finally an opportunity to observed it before them. Kiros dared not squander it, and hoped that both of those they were looking for would be present.

Garrod Arlette blain the cat
 
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ooc. (the leader of the lionmen are another account of mine so im using it to show the point of veiw of the "savages " slave traders. blain will be present later)

i looked apon my people and their taxes owed to me a, few humans that were under my domain but not slaves were their as well to offer meager tribute. an old man with a cart of furs approaches me. "my lord our village has been beset by tribes from your domain i as village cheif bring you this offering, the local lords will not protect us from the beast kin and we dont have the money to defend ourselves, please except this offering in return for your protection"

i look at the human with indifference. one of my servant presents me with one of his hides. i examine it closely. they aren't perfect but acceptable.

"you shall fall under my protection for now but next tax session i expect double these amounts of furs or crop yields of equaling value." the old man seemed content with this and with a bow he hobbled off

the humans proposed taxes first as there wares were of the least importance to me better to get them out of the way. after all the humans brought what meager offerings, they could the first chief of the united tribes came forward he bowed and presented a number of elven life stock my mouth watered just looking at them

"my lord these are the best elf's my people could acquire notice the anti-magic slave collars, their smooth skin and lanky bodies, they truly are the best of their breed, their blood will enhance even the weakest of fighters to become legends, with this offering i hope that the next few tax sessions are lesser for my tribe."

he says smiling, he pulls out a vial and gives it to me. a servant checks it for poison before giving me the rest. i tilt my head back and drink. it was good elf essence and gave a vigor i only have felt in my youth. i nod my head trying to keep my composure "yes the next tax seasons will be better for you" i growl trying to hold back the effects the essence had on me. "Thank you, my liege," he says smiling as he walks back into the crowd.