Open Chronicles Something Wicked...

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Village of Sonder, West of Alliria
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Click-click, click.

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Arnor's horse tread on the stones leading to Sonder, his eyes darting to and fro each way. The entire feeling was off. His adventures, his exploits and his experience had lead to him have a sort of sixth sense of danger and when something was off. What he knew of the village of Sonder was that it was experiencing a festival of some kind. A testament to it's fallen heroes and warriors, or to that effect.

The banners, colors, and decorations- memoribilia of wars past hung in the entrance to the village. Fruit stalls, stocked with the harvest, even admist the cold, lay out. Traders from all over were gathered in the market to take advantage of the city's bustling activity to sell their wares.

Or at least, there was supposed to be.

Even despite Arnor having the distinct feeling of eyes upon him, he could not see a soul out in the mid-morning's light. He had been riding hard, intent on getting some distance between himself and the Spine. He had grown weary of it's troubles, and truth be told, he wanted a change of scenery. He was advised by an innkeep to make his way to Sonder to experience the festival, a days ride away.

There were carvans, still unloaded, near the edges of the city, as if they were stopped per usual. In his experience, town guards would inspect caravans and traders, then let them- especially in a larger village, like Sonder. Sonder was hardly a village, only in name. A castle reigned over it, a Lord protected it, and a healthy city guard supposedly stood watch.

And yet, not a pikeman, not a beggar, not a trader in sight.

Arnor dismounted his horse in the city square, glancing upwards at the impressive and decorative armor, facing west. If he had to guess, it was symbolic of the soldier's passing on, by the sunset.

He ran his fingers over it, but did not disturb it. Even he had respect for the dead. Something in the distance moved. A door, or a board in a house creaked. Something was watching Arnor, that much he knew. But for an entire city- hundreds, close to thousands of people to up and disappear, well.

That was worth looking into to say the least.

 

[Crux]

Crux smelt it in the air, that foul, pungent odor of the wicked. How could he not notice it? It made his skin grow bumps, his hair stand on end, his veins open wide and his heart thump like thunder in his chest. The ebony-haired man's sunken eyes widened in anticipation of seeking out whatever unholy being had made its home in Sonder.

The Blightland-born had come for the festivities as well, although it wasn't his intent to celebrate the dead. What nonsense that was! The dead were not to be revered, but to be forgotten! Crux had seen firsthand what happened when those old souls were given a chance to thrive once more, and no matter how much good they did in life, there was no undead he'd met that didn't need its neck ripped from its body.

Sometimes these 'festivals' turned sour. Living beings congregated in a place of death usually looked like a veritable feast to the eyes of the unholy. It had been Crux's hope that he would be at Sonder to see if such a disaster occurred, but it seemed he was too late.

Whatever had come over this village had made short work of it and its people. As the freak of nature with a whip of barbed steel wandered the abandoned streets, passing row after row of abandoned stalls and amusements, his excitement only grew. Some of these buildings were impressive, grandiose, and expensive. There had been no shortage of manpower in Sonder. They would have had many arms at their disposal

Whatever did this was powerful.

Crux loved a challenge.

The tips of his fingers tingled with the sinister air that fogged this once thriving place, his fair skin darkening a shade as the fire within him burned comfortably in his gut. He wasn't alone here, there were others. He could hear hooves against the street in the distance, echoing off of the empty buildings and through the silent air. Competition? Or just a late arrival? It was best he make sure. Crux picked up his pace, moving towards the center of Sonder.

 

[Elle Selena]

Gliding along a low air current in the form of a small crow, Elle approached the village of Sonder. She carried with her a bag of potions, to be delivered to the town's apothecary for use in healing wounds and curing some illnesses. She made this trip once a month or 2 months, and she did this for many villages close to the Falwood. More than normal, today felt like an errand, so she was willing to expend a little extra energy to shift into the form of a crow just to get the task overwith more quickly.

She wasn't really paying much attention as she flew up to the door of the apothecary's shop, where she transformed back into her Human form, her jet black hair flowing down, unusually untidy for her. Elle tried the door, but found it was locked and took a step back, figuring she may have arrived at an odd time--this was common for her, as she didn't observe many customs of common folk.

A moment passed and she began to look around. She too began to notice the vacant streets and abandoned belongings throughout the streets. Too curious for her own good, and too impatient to see if the apothecary would answer his door in a minute, she shifted back into a crow again and landed on a rooftop of a building close to the town square, looking for any sign of what was going on. Along the way, she did notice two figures walking through the streets, and wondered if they might be responsible for whatever had transpired--or was transpiring--in Sonder.

While this situation might make another's stomach turn, Elle was almost giddy with excitement at her routine being disrupted in such a way. What would she find here? She kept still, scanning around her and waiting to see what would transpire.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Sonder wasn't dead, but it wasn't alive. The town was vacant, absent of all life.

Arnor smelled the man before he saw him. He patiently wait, sword laid in his lap, the enchanted silver blade still on his back.

The person following him made no effort to conceal their movements, no effort to hide themselves. Confidence, but no trickery. A predator, would have taken every chance to remain hidden before striking. Bandits wouldn't have been so overt, either, at least, by themselves. Perhaps a looter, perhaps a survivor.

Arnor sat atop the rock that held the ceremonial armor, his hands loosely laid on top of his sword as the man came into view.

"Hello."

Arnor said with a sort of passive respect, a tone devoid of ire or confrontation.

He did not notice the bird, though the uneasy feeling of something watching him made his otherworldly senses pick up.

 

[Elle Selena]

In her avian form, Elle noticed the large, armed man making his way through the streets--the only movement in the entire town, it seemed. Such men were usually a threat to someone like her, and if he was afraid of her kind, she might very well be killed in talking to him. But curiosity got the better of her, and she wasn't really the most patient or cautious person around. She flapped over to the nearest rooftop, where she figured she might at least be out of immediate sword's reach--she could just fly away if he was hostile, right?

She transformed back into her human form, her hair flowing naturally around her as she shifted.

"Hello yourself," she said, knowing his original words weren't aimed at her, but she couldn't resist any chance to be at least a little cheeky. "I've not seen a man so large as yourself before. What brings you to Sonder under these strange circumstances?"

She almost forgot, catching herself before he could possibly answer.

"Oh--I'm the local Witch. Name's Elle. Pleased to meet ya, how do you do, greetings and salutations, so on, you get the idea." She smiled playfully.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He'd seen a lot of things in his travels.

But a bird turning into a pretty woman wasn't high up on his list on things he was expecting to see that day.

"Work." He said to her first question- his accent giving him away. He remarked it in such a way that the rest of the conversation was off the table. In reality, he was running away as much as he was exploring.

"Local, hm?" He turned his head to the empty town. "Not too local, I imagine." He said gruffly, standing.

He kept his sword loosely in his hand, tucked under his arm, pointing upwards. Not trusting either one, he was far more content with his blade close to him.

"Tell me, Witch. Do you have any clue of what happened to an entire town?" He said, turning his head.

 

[Elle Selena]

"I'm afraid I'm just as lost as you are, stranger," she said. "With regards to the town, I mean--I know where I am. I come here every month to deliver some medicine to the locals, and maybe put a healthy fear of hexes into the locals."

She giggled at that last part.

"But you look and sound different from anyone around here, so it seems like you might be more out place than I am. Not that it's of any consequence, lots of people walk around looking tough, carrying swords..." she added to that list by pretending to swing a sword around with her empty hands, making mock noises of someone fighting.

She finally noticed he was gripping his sword. It wasn't the first time someone had done that around her.

"Oh, I have no need for money, and it looks like Sonder is sleeping at the moment. Would a potion to seal your wounds and ease your pain be of any interest to you? I'm feeling quite generous right now, and I think given the circumstances that a poor, defenseless Witch like myself could use a friend like you. What do you say?"

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"I've not yet met a defenseless witch." He replied curtly, rising from his seated position. He held the sword by the handle, holding the blade behind his back. At the ready, but relaxed around the witch.

He had no real reason to doubt her.

Yet.

He paced forward, turning his back to her, breathing deeply. Sonder was dead quiet.

"These lands... has this ever happened? Ever such a thing?" He turned his body to face her.

"I am Arnor, son of Skuld. I'm known through the Spine as the Axe of Knottington. It is a pleasure to meet you." He said, turning back to face the castle up the hill of the city.

"Have you any notion- your experience and profession counting... of what happened?" He asked curiously, pacing around the market, examining the stalls and abandoned area with a morbid curiosity.

 

[Elle Selena]

Elle raised an eyebrow.

The serious type, eh? That's no fun.

"You are right, of course," she said, putting on her best serious face. "It is rather strange that all the townsfolk seem to be missing. I did try to visit the apothecary, but his door was locked. Maybe the commoners are all out at some festival or event?"

She took some offense at the suggestion that because she was a witch that she might be able to divine the situation, although this was definitely just some over-sensitivity on Elle's part.

"Oh, yes, let me get some animal entrails and read the signs to see what happened! Perhaps the Lady Luna will be merciful and show us the way!" She said, using a faux mystical voice. "Yes, yes, the signs are speaking to me--they're saying we should keep looking around!"

She couldn't help herself. This man was armed to the teeth and she couldn't help herself.

Dammit, she thought. At this point she was making a fool of herself and there could be much more real danger than a hairy 6'5" foreigner with a bad attitude.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

As fond as Arnor was of sarcasm, he wasn't particularly fond of hers.

"I hope Lady Luna tells the great witch before me that perhaps angering strangers is not a good idea."

He said rather bluntly, still walking around the market. "The festival is supposed to be going on now. I imagine your apocathery friend was part of it. Now the only, if not the most important, is only where they've all gone." He said, but then stopped, as if thinking.

"Or what... or whom whisked them away." Arnor's face flushed with familiar fear, an all too familiar dooming sensation creeping up over him.

Far too familiar and far too similar. But so far away from the Spine? Surely he wasn't writhing around anymore...

 

[Elle Selena]

Elle was ever quick to return threats with biting wit, and this was no exception.

"Perhaps angering strangers isn't wise, but perhaps strangers shouldn't assume too much about someone based on simple titles."

She huffed for a moment, then regained her composure to speak more plainly.

"I don't keep track of such festivals, but surely people should be gathered somewhere if there is one, right? That's how the locals usually do it?"

She shook her head.

"Take it from a witch that most superstitions are nonsense and there is nothing to fear yet. I suppose I could go with you to investigate. I can give you a quick hex to shield you from any strange magics that might be in the air. But as for what's happening here, I haven't the faintest idea."

 

[Taayi]

As Arnor Skuldsson and Elle Selena spoke, a flock of carrion burst from the castle. Their frenzied screeching pierced the air as they flew up in a panic. They were hidden from view by the buildings around the investigators and the keep’s walls. While some vultures fled the village, some began to circle the castle.

Shortly after the flock’s outburst, the air grew heavy. A rumbling overcast crept into the sky above the keep. The smell of rain trickled in as well, though any downpour remained absent.

And then a single, crimson bolt of lighting lashed out from the heavens upon the castle's courtyard.

The path to the Lord's keep appeared to be open. However, the houses will keep an eye on you all.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"Perhaps titles don't mean much if your heads cleaved in half." He said rather curtly, half facing the woman.

Arnor looked up at the sky, watching the sky dim, and the air grow heavy. The bolt of crimson lightning brought back familiar fears from Faragen.

"These hexes... I suppose you know they work, correct?" Arnor only seemed slightly, if somewhat worried.

 

[Elle Selena]

titles don't mean much if your heads cleaved in half

Elle raised her eyebrow at this. The hyper violent type, eh? Working with him could be hazardous to her health.

While it was hardly the first time she'd witnessed something like it, the sudden timing of the lightning strike snapped her attention to the castle that loomed over the town. Her suspicions grew less naive, and she began to also fear that something might be terribly wrong here.

Elle looked back to Arnor again, dropping the biting wit and speaking in a much more sincere tone.

"They work; I use them to protect myself while travelling. I am not at my full strength, though, as that only happens when the moon rises. Truthfully though, stranger, I likely need your protection far more than you need mine."

She nodded.

"My name is Elle. Some call me the Witch of the Wood. But I am mostly a maker of healing salves and potions. My magic is limited, but I can do small things to protect you, and heal your wounds should you take injury. My way of life depends on these people and the goods I can trade with them, so I would like to accompany you and solve whatever the matter is. But if I would only be a burden to you, I can leave now."

No more games, this time. Whatever was going on was beyond Elle's cynicism now.

 

[Taayi]

The echoing rumble of the lightning bolt rolled through the village for a few seconds. Then, the silence of Sonder returned.

As the two conversed, perhaps one with a heightened sense of smell could detect a hint of iron in the air.

The castle continued to look down upon Arnor and Elle.

A whispered floated through the dirt covered street for Witch of the Wood's ears: Time to end the cycle.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Iron.

Like blood, spilled.

"Well, Witch." He said, looking upwards to the sky, walking back to Rhi- his enormous horse, and donning the chainmail and leather cuirass, inhaling deeply. He withdrew the other sword- the silver imbued sword.

Something told him he wouldn't want to go to wherever it was without it.

"The towns silence does not bode well for the people you knew..." He stopped, turning his head towards the lords manner.

Something was afoot. Something evil and foul lingered here. Like Faragen. Like Lord Naleze all over.

 

[Elle Selena]

Elle watched the man's features as he went back to his horse and donned his armor. She was impressed with his movements; she interpreted that he was precise and purposeful with every step.

Then, the voice rang in her head, and Elle's eyes widened in a sudden panic. What did this sudden force know about her--how did it know? And why her, why now?

She looked back to the warrior. "Something speaks to me," she said, shutting her eyes and sighing deeply. "It comes from the castle. It knows about... It knows about my destiny."

She stopped, realizing she would have to explain because in the 22 years of her life, she'd never had to explain, so how would anybody have the faintest idea what she was talking about?

"I am part of a cycle that the Lunar Patron created. Every 40 years or so, a witch of my line is sacrificed, and a great and terrible eruption of nature itself happens--storms, earthquakes, fires, tornados, you get the idea. Always there is the mother and the daughter, and the mother always is chosen."

She looked up the castle, fear breaking her voice up. "It knows. Whatever is in that castle now, it knows."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor turned his head, only half listening to her. He'd developed a bad habit of tuning out the long-winded way that people in the Summerlands spoke. In the sense that his people were very purposeful, words had meaning and weight to them.

So he only caught the tail end of what she said and didn't comment further.

"It knows we're here. So we know it's there. And if it wasn't scared-" He stopped to tighten the bracers around his arm, a mixture of Dwarven design and hardened leather.

"It would have remained silent. Nothing powerful begets conflict. Not anything smart, at least."

He stopped and looked up at the castle, and began his trek. He assumed the witch was coming.

 

[Elle Selena]

She looked at the warrior incredulously.

"Wait, you're going to go fight it?" she asked. "What can one man do against the kind of magic that might be at work here? Surely you're being foolish," she said. The man's courage was certainly impressive, at least, but Elle was a bit more skeptical when it came to assessing the reasoning behind such a decision. Did he just do this sort of thing for kicks?

She thought nervously, poring over her options at this point. Maybe it made sense to run away, but if whatever was up there was powerful enough to cause that kind of magical occurrence, she might simply be prey for something much worse. No, this man was the only way she was going to get out of this situation. A fact which she resented very, very much.

 

[Taayi]

Now that Elle reacted to the whisper, the perceived realities between her and Arnor may have begun to drift…

Follow

Another word wisped by Elle’s ears as she contemplated retreat.

The cycle of pain must end with your freedom.

Magic saturated the air. Another bolt of lightning struck down upon the castle courtyard. The clouds above continued to grow and swallow the sun’s light.

Then another whisper attempted to pierce through Arnor’s ears

What would she think about you now?

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"I'm not sure what one man can do. I'm curious to see what two people can do about it, however." He said with a rather wry grin.

He had at least a handsome smile.

He turned and grit his teeth, craning his neck against the sound. "She" would refer to just about anyone to Arnor- but the first thought immediately was Maude. And if he knew her well enough, she'd chastise him from being away from home, as well as not making his way to the castle sooner.

Which, the latter, he continued to do, sword in hand.

 

[Elle Selena]

She was fighting as best she could against the unsettling messages on the wind. Thankfully, as a witch, she knew of such occult happenings and was prepared against them. She focused her energy--what little she had before night time--to cast a hex of interference for any magical messages that might be sent her way.

His proclamation caused Elle to take heart, as a sort of admission that he was at least on her side in this situation, if nothing else. Maybe she would even get out of this alive, somehow.

She couldn't help but prod, even though she could tell he was weary of conversation.

"Are you a bounty hunter? Or perhaps a monster hunter?" she asked, hopping down from the rooftop to begin following the man down the street. "I couldn't help but notice the silver sword."

 

[Taayi]

A mother should never have to-

Then Elle finished casting her hex. She would cease to hear defined words from the breeze through the village. Instead, she would hear the true cacophony of voices that surrounded them. Many voices, many words.

She's waiting for you to propose...

Your son misses you, come see him...​

The Lord favors your sword.​

Meanwhile, a directed voice would still target Arnor's ears.

Move. The slower it takes to reach the castle, the more people that die.

If the pair continued to approach the castle, the smell of iron would continue to grow in strength. From the distance, the wooden keep's gates into the courtyard could be seen - closed. It stood on a hill that the village surrounded.

And in the uncovered storm drains, blood flowed down this hill...

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"On occasion. Mostly I just do work when people ask. I get paid, they get a job done."

On occasion it was monster hunting. But to call it a profession of his was insulting to those who did for a living.

Arnor craned and twisted his neck, trying to suppress that voice that lingered far too close to him. He didn't run or jog, but he picked up the pace to the castle. Crouching near a steady flow of blood, Arnor stopped.

There was the iron smell.

The gates were steady... wooden. Closed.

So Arnor did the sensible thing.

He knocked.

 

[Elle Selena]

She hadn't quite noticed at first, but Elle suddenly caught a whiff of the intense smell of iron in the air. It only added to her growing dread even though she had managed to stop the whispers with her hex. Elle kept pace with Arnor, though she didn't actually know his name at this point still. She supposed it didn't matter; deeds mattered more than titles, that much she knew.

She wasn't squeamish, but Elle also wasn't a hardened warrior and the sight of blood had her aghast, stumbling a little closer to Arnor for protection. She wondered what creature was capable of such terrible displays, and her own magical abilities felt inadequate in the face of such intense magics.

She admired Arnor's bravery, though, because she sure as hell wouldn't have just knocked on the gate of a veritable murder castle. Not in a million years. And certainly not with blood running down the streets like it had just rained. She didn't say anything, though; she was too stunned, and her life was in his hands at this point. No question about it.