Private Tales Sympathy for Devils

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
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Everleigh stretched her arms over her head, looking at the hazy sky. The monotone gray of the sky matched the same dreary, faded hues of color on the homes and all the way to the docks at the end. Where sky and ocean met was a blur of even more gray.

Here, the seaside village close to the Cortosi Coast was known for it’s fog that came from the sea, always striking in the mid-afternoon. It was called sea fog, and there were plenty of old stories that believed this heavy mist that moved unbound during the day was from a woman who had drowned or a fisherman who threw his children overboard. Any matter of stories could pop up to frighten children to be wary.

Everleigh paused, her gimlet gaze catching onto a clothesline.

Before we head any further, we could try to blend in better,” the initiate said, glancing over to her partner on the mission. What a peculiar mission it was, one that seemed too simple and easy yet frustrating nonetheless. Everleigh had felt a sort of chilly apathy towards the goal they were to complete. Proctor Palahniuk had looked rather pressed on the matter.

This matter isn’t usually for initiates, but,’ he had began as the initiates were free to look over the hefty stack of papers set before them. ‘It’s come to the consensus that you two would be able to retrieve him. Or, if you can’t, then kill him once and for all.‘ Rorik Bryer was the man they were after, a dreadlord who had gone by many names. He lacked both offensive and defensive magic, Everleigh realized when looking at his grades from the academy. He never earned anything higher than the title of a third-level dreadlord.

He shouldn’t have been able to even graduate. Yet he did. Because Rorik claimed he couldn’t be killed. Invincibility? Immortality? There wasn’t a name for it, but it hadn’t mattered. He served Vel Anir in different ways, researching and remembering and recording. For over five hundred years he was a valuable asset to Vel Anir. In the midst of confusion that was the Revolution, he had disappeared.

It wasn’t hard to find him, Proctor Palahniuk had explained. The easiest part was finding him. The hard part was bringing him back. But after a year of cat and mouse, the Republic saw it fit to just kill him. Rorik knew too much, and while the knowledge within him was valuable to Vel Anir, it would be priceless to their enemies.

Of course, really, the Republic wanted their pet back.

Everleigh wasted little time in jumping over the stone wall. She was silent and slick with her movements, bending down low and looking all around for any sort of movement. Everything was quiet and she took it as a good sign to snatch at a few items before bounding over the wall once again. Black hair blew along her fair skin, her gray eyes matching the monochromatic solitude.

Gone was the mischievous mauve, libertine lilac and volatile violet, at least for forty-eight more hours. Or maybe less. One could never count on potions being exact, every body metabolized differently. For now, Everleigh could look how she should have been: dark hair and eyes like the subdued ocean waves on a early spring morning.

Ironically, everything she had grabbed was just as drab as the impermeable gray and faded greens and limpid blues all around them. Perfect to blend in.

You think this will fit you?” She asked, holding up a large, thin shirt.

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Elias wasn't much of a thinker. Not to say he didn't possess the capacity for it, but rather he just preferred simplicity. So he didn't care for much else except for the details pertaining to the target. What he'd been involved in was of little import to the Initiate.

Retrieve or terminate. It was pleasingly simple.

"I blend in fine," Elias had turned to answer, but Evie had already cleared the old stone behind them. The boy huffed and leaned against the wall as he waited for her to return.

The pallid hues and drab tones that constituted the village were very unusual for Cortosi culture, which one would find composed of bright, vibrant, warm colors. It was a society that had worshiped a singular Sun god for all its history, and its culture reflected that.

Eli watched her drop down like a cat next to him. He took the shirt from her and inspected it. "It'll do. This all you could find?"
 
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I thought you blended in fine?” Everleigh said lightly, inspecting the long skirt and conservative blouse. She held it up to her nose, sniffing in a hint of lime. “You’re more than welcome to wear a skirt, or actually, I think this is more your color?” She held up the morose blouse to him, hardly different in shade from the shirt in his hands, before setting it on her shoulder. The skirt was unusual, definitely not a style in Vel Anir— shouldn’t it be stitched to the blouse?— but regardless, Everleigh slipped it up and over, to find that it sat limply on her hips and it bunched up at the ground.

Too bad she wasn’t going to be growing another inch or two, anymore, forever stuck at a mediocre five feet and six inches.

Everleigh twisted the waistband up a few times, the fabric still dangling along her ankles. She plucked at the pseudo-waist a bit and patted around her torso, frowning a bit. Pulling out her needles and flat blades would be obnoxious in this, well-fitted breeches and tunic were her go-to for a reason. Everleigh shrugged off her pack, setting it down to then inspect the blouse again.

Must be something in the water, everyone is tall.” She commented before pulling the blouse down and over her head, situating that as well. She settled this as well, and glancing over to Elias, “does fog affect your magic? I feel the chill the closer we get and this fog is only growing thicker.

Elias
 
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"Blend in, or see me in a skirt? You can only choose one," Elias responded affably. If she were looking for a rise out of him, as was notoriously easy to accomplish, she would have to try much harder. Eli had been uncharacteristically mellow during the travels to the village, and remained as such.

Elias pulled his cloak off and slung it over the wall, then unfastened a strap on his chest. A bag of supplies dropped onto the ground at his heels, and he turned and crouched to access it only to stuff the stolen shirt into it.

The boy wore almost all black, and throwing on a color that clashed against that wouldn't quite do for blending in. He turned his gaze back onto her, noted that she was doing just fine with it.

"Can't recognize you. Whatever you did, it's workin' well," Elias softly grunted as he drew the sting tight on his bag, closing it up. He quickly refastened it across his chest and grabbed his cloak off the wall, throwing it on.

"No problem there," he said in regard to the fog.

"We should split up. You look the part. Should go in, see if you can gather any intel from within. I can check the perimeter, maybe find any points of interest."
 
“‘Course you can’t, I’m not purple for once. Doesn’t matter what I wear, purple will always stand out.” Everleigh said lightly, kicking one leg up. Despite just having pulled over clothes on top of the clothes she already wore, she was glad to see that a skirt and blouse didn’t hinder her movements. She would reach under the fabric, at a small pouch on her left thigh, and pull out a couple of needles in between her fingers. The half dozen needles were easily embedded into two different places on her blouse, discretely hidden in plain sight.

Fair plan.” Everleigh said, looking down to the dirt road. She wondered how many people would be out and about, was curious if she could be labeled as an intruder. The thought hardly bothered her, however. “Want to meet near that church when it’s noon?” Whatever Elias’ parting words were, she would hear them as she walked down the well-trodden path, her rucksack securely on her shoulders, making her seem like nothing more than a woman on a errand.


The village was called Oia Del Mar, boasting a population of almost a hundred-fifty people or so. Half of the village was to the beaches, although the shore was sparse compared to the sea. The village resided on a curving yet small cliff, stone walls had been built up to even out the rocky walls. Stone staircases would lead down to the small beach, sand white and glistening in dim-light.

Docks to the left and the right of the town, pregnant with workers and boats and gulls overhead. The center of the town, at the very edge of the cliff, was a monastery and church compound with a high-reaching bell-tower, all gray. The church was the only building with red shingles for a roof, although the color was worn down by age and weather. The village’s graveyard was also there as well, with a large yet secluded and gated building to the southwest corner on the monastery.

The monastery was self-sufficient, livestock could be seen within it’s stone walls, as well as a small garden and copse of trees. As was custom, all roads led to the church, crisscrossing however they liked on their journey to the one and only destination.

Almost two miles out from where the ocean was, salt still hung heavy in the air. Yet, despite the fishing village being dependent on their aquatic bounty, plenty of land was cultivated for the use of crops. Homes would showcase their small gardens, currently filled with produce waiting another month or so to be harvested, but in between the clusters of homes would be fields used for sowing the grains that would feed the village and be stored in the various silos around.

The Oia Del Mar was large enough to produce a town square and a marketplace around the square. Currently, Everleigh was there, speaking to the different vendors.

There were no light-houses or docks large enough to support a ship. The waters around Oia Del Mar were quite shallow for half a mile, causing anyone who dared to invade by sea to attempt a dangerous and vulnerable trek to the beach. Rocky cliffs, uninhabitable by people but the home for many seabirds, stretched on for miles on either side of Oia Del Mar.

There was one way into the village and one way out for the most part. The perfect haven for someone to keep track of who left and who entered, especially if they wanted to hide from a vengeful owner.

The bell rang, ringing eleven times. Each time the bell would ring, the initiates would feel a sort of mental fatigue slowly creep into their veins. At most, they would yawn, and continue on with their mission, thinking nothing of it. After all, what initiate wasn’t a little tired this close to graduation?

Elias
 
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"Good a place as any," Elias said to Evie's back as she turned to depart. He watched her grow smaller in the distance as she made her way down the trail. Eli's chest rose as he took a deep breath in through his nose. A long exhale out of his mouth; the boy was off. He made his way around the outskirts of the village. Elias did his best to avoid others without going as far as to lurk about the fishing village.

He made mental notes of the general layout of the village. Kept in mind certain buildings or landmarks and their general locations. Though the village's palette was rather dehydrated and depressing, Elias was oddly pleased to see some color in the church's roof. No matter how far the place was from what he'd expect out of a Cortosi village, it seemed the faith was still present.

What was Cortos without their venerable sun god? Elias snorted to himself and moved on.

Moving on from the village, Elias ventured about a mile out from the village, opposite from the direction they'd arrived. A lone fisherman's shack was built down on the coast, and upon further inspection Elias found it to be long abandoned. He stopped there and returned to the village.



At the church, Elias waited on the steps and stretched his arms out with a yawn following the eleventh chime from the belfry. Any fatigue that had suddenly built up in him dissipated as the sun reached its apex in the sky. Despite the overcast day and heavy fog that set in the village, Elias would still reap the sun's bounty until it set over the horizon.

Villagers that passed by would curiously watch as Elias rested there, but none ever approached to talk to him and kept on with their business.

When Evie arrived, he sat up and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs.

"You first, then. What'd you learn?"
 
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Everleigh sat down beside Elias, sliding her pack down her shoulders and picking it up to place in between legs, pretending to look through it. Talking on the steps to a church unnerved her a bit, although her body language suggested otherwise. Only a slight prickling of gooseflesh along her bicep could even show that the initiate was preoccupied by the people that passed by and gave them a glance.

A few things actually. Not sure if everything is related, though.” Everleigh had learned that to search for information broadly, at least at first, often gave the best results. It was easier to narrow things down later in one’s search, and it gave Everleigh more pieces to work with. A narrow mind usually yielded nothing but stagnant opportunities.

Three young women are missing, so right now the village is under a bit of a lockdown at night. We’ll need be careful sneaking about. There’s nothing that openly ties the women together. One was married and had a child recently, the other was married but without children and shouldn’t be pregnant, the other had just turned seventeen. Their husbands, brothers and fathers have been questioned but they’re also the ones attempting to do a city watch right now. They’re blaming it on the influx of travelers passing through the city, lots of men coming in solo, you know the sort. Probably mercenaries or sellswords I’d imagine.”

Everleigh paused, pulling out a canteen of water, she uncapped it and took a drink. She really wasn’t a fan of talking this much.

“A few people have arrived in the last three months, and are still here, mostly seasonal fishermen. They do odd jobs too, but one is a fur trader with a young daughter. Apparently he moves about at interesting hours. No one with a description like Rorik. As for other gossip, a new sister of the Radiant Church is here. What’s unique about her is that she’s… well, as one lady nicely put it, a bit old.” There was a pause. “And I guess I sorta look like her.” It was left at that, and then she looked at Elias.

Alright, your turn.

Elias
 
Elias is leaning back on his elbows with his legs outstretched, trying as best he can to become comfortable on the stairs leading to the church while Everleigh gives him the rundown.

He snorts and quickly interjects with a pointless comment while Evie sips water to relieve her throat from all the talking, "So, men like me."

Then it occurs to Eli that lounging so casually on the steps beneath the sacred house of the Radiant One would only draw unwanted attention to him, especially given he was an outsider. The Initiate sniffles defiantly and scratches behind his left ear.

"That's some good intel. Something to start with, anyway," Elias sits up and clears his throat. "I have the general layout of this village mapped out in my head. Roads, landmarks, and the like. I can put it on paper later. There are some points of interest I'd like to explore later. This being one of them," he forcefully jabs a thumb over his shoulder at the church.

"North of here, 'bout a mile out and near the coast is an abandoned hut. I think it'd be a good place to set up as a safehouse or to use as a meeting point in case the mission becomes compromised at any point."
 
Everleigh raised a brow, capping back the canteen. She didn’t glance back at the church behind them, easily picturing the large doors painted red long ago. It was faded just like the red shingles. Despite that though, it was clear that the church was well maintained in other areas. For one, the steps were spotless, freshly swept every morning and night so no debris could build up in the crevices.

She was certain that not even a single mote of dust could be found inside.

I agree. Do you want to head inside now or later?” Everleigh asked.

Elias
 
Elias stands up and deeply considers the question for a moment. He sweeps the surroundings with his eyes. If they are being watched, then it's from the shadows or through the windows of one of the nearby homes.

"Let's have a peek," Eli answers and begins to turn up the stairs. He stops and looks down at his current partner. "How long are you gonna stay looking like that?"
 
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Everleigh stood up in tandem, turning to face the red doors. She took a step, her foot about to take another, only to stop when Elias did.

About forty-five hours at this point. Depends on my metabolism, could be more if I don’t eat.” Everleigh said, and then continued the rest of the walk up the stairs. With her hands on the doors, she pushed them open easily, her training of a dreadlord always coming through in the simplest of things.

Stepping inside the church, it was far different from the outside. Everleigh couldn’t help but to look around, impressed. Red was everywhere, capturing the attention of the eye in however it could. The windows, while muted on the outside, held red and gold stain glass that cast patterns on the walls or tapestries. For looking so poor on the outside, it was clear that a majority of the charm was inside.

Not that Everleigh could find anything related to the Radiant Church charming. She looked around, seeing a somber priest covered in sanguine cotton. He stood at a alter, a modest staff in hand that was more to help him hobble around than for show.

Elias
 
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