Private Tales The Legend's Heir

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Solgrin considered the question.

He let it hang in the air, thought about the thousand answers that it could have had. That he could have told here and never felt bad about for even a second.

A part of him wanted to just say that they should leave. That they should walk away and not give a care in this world. Yet he knew it was wrong. Knew he would never step from Einar's plight. The thought was somehow even unthinkable.

Yet a part of him craved it.

An end to all of it. "We go back."

Solgrin said finally.

"We'll figure out what's going on, get Einar his daughter back." Nothing had changed. Nothing. "Then we get the fuck out of this place."

No matters who tried to stop them.
 
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Sera agreed with the idea of getting Einar his daughter back but the thought of leaving this town still under the thumb of these... these creatures - for they certainly didn't deserve to be called men - it just felt... wrong. Of course she was sure Sol would let any who wanted to leave with them but not everyone could pack up their lives and leave everything they had known.

A troubled look clouded her face.

"I suppose so," she sighed and shut her eyes as another wave of pain rolled through her. Then, gritting her teeth, she slowly pushed herself up to balance on her good foot. "Either way it's better we get going."
 
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Solgrin watched as Serafina struggled to stand. He grimaced for a brief moment, and then slowly pulled himself to his feet a few seconds later. Arms wrapped around her, and without a word he swept her from her feet and pulled her into his arms.

"Aye." He agreed with a nod.

The wound in her heel wasn't fatal, not even close, but walking on it for the next several miles would only invited further harm. "Let's get going."

Solgrin said as he began to carry her back towards the village.

It took longer than it had on the way there, of course, and by the time they made it back to the village the sun was beginning to crest the horizon. A few of the band were waiting for them, some with rather nervous faces.

"Boss..."​

"Aw fuck what did Einar do now?" Solgrin asked.

"Not Einar, no he's still at the Tavern. We...some of the villagers went nuts, attacked Scout and some of the others. We had to...ya know."​
 
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Sera begun to protest when he plucked her from the ground but one raised brow in her direction and she clamped her mouth shut. She didn't have his abilities to heal and recover fast and without stitching to the wound every step would lose her blood. It was a pointless argument he would win so instead she leaned her head against his chest and now and again peeked over his shoulder to check they weren't being followed. Even though she saw no signs she kept the odd mirrored magic going to shield them from a glance in their direction.

She was almost asleep by the time they got back from the blood loss and the use of magic for so long but the nerves looks at her raising her head.

"Is Scout okay?" she didn't have much left to give but anything serious she could tend to. Sera wriggled to try and get out of Solgrin's arms.
 
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"He's alright, they all are. Except...ya know...the villagers."​

The boy said with a frown, a tentativeness tinging his voice. It was clear that he had not wanted to deliver this news, particularly given what had happened as of late. "It's alright."

Solgrin said as Serafina wriggled in his grasp and squirmed onto the ground.

"How many were there?" The Bandit Chief asked with a slight frown.

"Three of 'em. All came into Marion's tavern, spotted our boys and just...just went mad."​

A frown pulled over the Bandit chief's lips. Madness was not what they had seen in this men who'd come for them. That had been more controlled, trained. This was...this was something else. A wildness. "Alright...lets go talk to Scout, what about the rest of the villagers?"

Solgrin asked. "They say anything?"

"No, sir. They were as bewildered by the whole thing as us."​
 
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Sera was already limping for the inn as Solgrin and the other bandits talked about what had happened. Her mind whirled with questions that from the sounds of it nobody would be able to answer apart from the villagers who were now dead. Ironically the only way to get answers from them would be to take them to the necromancers and if her gut was right they were at the centre of this problem. They couldn't possibly have been the same villagers who had shot at them though, the timings simply did not match up. So how many of them were there?

"Sera!" Scout bundled into her before she'd taken a step over the threshold and she smiled down at the young lad with his arms wrapped around her waist. "We were worried, after..."

"I know," she said softly and stroked some hair from his face. "We're fine. Just a few... scratches," she glanced to her blood soaked foot. Maria was already heading in their direction and quickly instructed her to sit so she could stitch it properly whilst Scout launched into the story.
 
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By the time the doors to the tavern fell open again Solgrin was fuming.

A part pf him knew that he couldn't blame the villagers. They were living in a world not of their own design, or making. It was their ancestors, their forefathers who had done this, and yet that sting of betrayal still sat within his chest.

These people had tried to hurt him, his love, his men. A year ago he would have burned this entire place to the ground.

Not an option now. "Lock this place down, Yuri."

He whispered to the Neusian.

"Make sure no one comes within ten feet of this Inn, and keep the roads closed." They had just enough men for that, just enough. He stalked over towards Serafina and Maria, frowning. "Are you alright?"

Solgrin asked Serafina, glancing down towards the wound Maria was tending.
 
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Sera opened her mouth to say something when Maria beat her to it.

"She lost quite a bit of blood but it could have been worse," the medic said in her quick, matter-of-fact reporting tone. She rocked back onto her heels and then stood up, snapping her bag of medical supplies shut. "I've stitched it up but you should rest it as much as you can over the next week or so," it was a testament to their line of work that she didn't even begin to say she had to rest it.

"Thanks Doc," Sera smiled and Maria gave her a withering look though it held a hint of a smile. Even she seemed unable to resist the young girls naïve charm. "See, clean bill of health," standing up she tilted her chin to meet Solgrin's gaze. "Scout told me what happened. I think we need to find someone who can read this script."
 
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Solgrin frowned for a brief moment. In that moment he didn't feel particularly inclined to cooperating with anyone else in the village. He knew that some of them were good, kind even, and yet an attack like this was never easy.

Not for a second. "You can't do it?"

He asked softly.

"We could get you some books from the mayors Library." The thought of relying on someone else was...he just didn't like it. He didn't want her to have to leave, he didn't want to put any one of the others at risk. Not after this incident.

If there was one instance, there would be another. He knew it in his bones.
 
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Sera's eyes slowly drifted across his face taking in the tenseness of his jaw and the storm brewing in his eyes. She considered pointing out it would be easier and quicker for a townsperson who already spoke the language to translate it but she sensed Solgrin was not in a frame of mind to debate rationally. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and then slowly nodded.

"I can, if you can get me those books," she offered a tiny smile and brushed her fingers over his cheek. "I'll stay here with the others. Just... be careful. Take this," she offered the paper over to him. "Grab anything that looks like it's in this language."
 
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Solgrin inspected the piece of paper for a moment, and then nodded his head as he folded it and tucked it into his coat. "Terrin, you're with me."

Right now it wasn't a good idea for even him to go alone. His curse would keep him alive, but enough villagers could nab him off the street. The other man nodded his head, trident from the corner of the room and following after Solgrin.

The trip wasn't a long one, with the Bandit Chief quickly cutting across the village as he reached the Mayor's home.

An odd and eerie silence seemed to reign over the House. His lips thinned for a brief moment as he pushed open the gate, heading up the steps and pounding on the door. Nothing greeted them. Not a hello, not the pounding of steps. Nothing.

Solgrin frowned for a moment, then took half a step back.

"I'm sick of these games." The Bandit Chief said, boot raising and slamming directly besides the lock. There was a loud splintering sound as the door swept open, and the scent of iron and blood greeted them.

A long sigh escaped him. "Fuck."

He swore. "Get some of the others, now."
 
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"Help!"

Sera glanced up, a rook held carefully between her fingers mid-move, as the door to the inn slammed open. Einar was on his feet clutching his axe and Maria was not far behind him. The two were some of the longest serving members of the crew and seemed to be taking control whilst Solgrin ran this little mission. Other bandits glanced warily up at the pair of senior members and reached for their weapons too so they would be ready at their word. Scout, who was sat opposite her, leapt to his feet just from the excitement of it.

"The Mayor..." he panted but didn't need to continue for Einar to snap a command and hurry through the door with five men on his heel. Scout jumped to go after them before Sera snagged his collar.

"You're on bed rest, Mister," she reminded him and gained a sulky look in response. "Sol will be fine," she lied despite the knot in her stomach and the way she looked after the group as they filed out through the door. "He's always fine."
 
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Another ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then another thirty.

It was a full hour before Einar, Solgrin, and the others that had departed with them returned from the Mayor's house. Half of them were carrying stacks of books, the others walked as though they were mice walking through a den of cats.

Weapons were bared, eyes flickered from left to right, and as they stepped through the doorway of the Tavern all of them visibly relaxed. "Einar, set a guard."

He told the northman.

"No one comes in or out of this Tavern." Solgrin said to the man. "And make sure that all the watches see to their backs."

He grimaced. "No mistakes."

Einar nodded his head, and then booked it back out the door as he set about arranging things. Apparently glad to have something occupy his mind.

At the same time the men carrying the books began to deposit them in front of Serafina, stacks on stacks of novels.

"We wasn't sure what you needed, so jus' kinda grabbed everythin'."​

Ram said, scratching his head as he placed down a volume titled 'The Lusty Anirian Maid'.
 
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Maria almost spat out her drink.

"Thank you, Ram," Sera said, trying not to smile and failing horrifically as she picked up the book he had just placed down. Maria had far less restraint and had begun to laugh much to Ram's anger judging by the look he shot her, but he fiddled with the empty sack and shot Sera a shy, hopeful smile at her praise. "They'll all be helpful," in some way or other. Whether the task at hand or... pleasure later on.

Her eyes briefly flickered to Sol as he prowled through the inn issuing orders then looked back down at the pile of books and began to sort.
 
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Solgrin was like a prowling wolf.

There was an anger to him, something that radiated from every step that he took. There was no doubt in the way he moved. No hesitation. Rage bloomed within his chest.

His people had been attacked.

His people had nearly been killed.

It was everything he could do not to lash out. Not to burn this entire place to the ground and simply be done with it all. The instinct to do it still reigned within his skull. Dragged at his mind. The paces seemed to dig into the floor, until finally someone caught his arm.

Maria whispered something in his ear, quiet, but a word that needed to be said. A frown flickered over his features, and then quietly he walked over towards Sera, sitting himself down besides her.
 
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Sera tried not to raise her gaze to watch the stalking wolf coming towards her but all the hairs rose on the back of her neck. She could feel the anger rolling off of him like a storm and she found herself tensing, her natural instinct to flee from such a predator even when she knew him. Loved him - for her sins.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly when he settled beside her and frowned at the progress she was making on the translation. A few words had words underneath in the common tongue including 'break' and 'death'. She put her hand over her writing to draw his attention to her eyes and she asked again, because nobody else asked.

"Are you okay, Sol?"
 
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"I'm alright." He grunted, though that edge in his tone did not ease off even in the slightest.

For a brief moment he stayed quiet, as if considering, biting his tongue. Then after a moment more his teeth snapped slightly.

"I am..." He frowned. "Frustrated."

That was the word for it, the way to put it. Frustration sat in his chest. He felt like a caged lion. A predator put behind irons that couldn't quite get to it's prey. It made him want to lash out, attack, break. His people had been hurt, and he could do nothing about it.

He let out a long sigh. "This needs to end."

For Einar's sake, for their sake. For his sake.
 
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Sera hesitated before laying her hand over his and giving it a squeeze. There was a flicker of something warm that passed between her palm and his hand, something soothing, like a ray of summer sunshine from a precious, hazy childhood memory. It sought to relax, to ease some of the tension from his shoulders.

"It will," the magic didn't make him believe her words though she wished it could. "I think I'm nearly there but it's hard to say. Every word impacts the next one and can alter the meaning a little," she let go of his hand and turned her attention back to the ten or so books laid open before her.

"I'm guessing... I wouldn't be able to ask the Mayor?"
 
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Solgrin slowly shook his head. "No."

Not unless they asked for help with the very Temple that they were trying to tear down. A possibility that he found...well utterly unlikely, and not something he would even bring up as a joke. His mood was far too grim for such things.

"I don't think he'll be available." He said with a sight. "Just..."

His teeth clicked together. "Just do what you can Sera."

A hand swept through his hair. "Don't rush. Make sure it all works. There's nothing more important."

They had to do this right, otherwise there was no point at all.
 
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"No pressure," she murmured with a wobbly smile and then glanced back down at her work with a sigh. This had been what a girl in a far distant past had once dreamed of. Adventures, codes, secret languages and lives to be saved. She wanted to find that girl and shake some sense into her. She still wanted to ask what had happened to cause Solgrin to be so on edge but she could tell it was not the time and as he had said, she had more important things to do.

Picking up her quill, Sera started once more.

The night was deep and the candles had guttered low by the time Sera finally pushed her chair back. Her eyes were blurry and her mind jumbled but...

"I think I've got it," she announced to the almost empty room.
 
When Serafina finally announced that she had cracked the code Solgrin was sitting in the corner of the Tavern. His head had begun to lull against his chest hours ago, the exhaustion of the day having overtaken him. Eyes snapped open as she spoke.

"Hrm?" The Bandit Chief grunted as he glanced around, then settled his gaze onto Serafina.

He saw the exhaustion in her eyes, mixed with just a tinge of excitement. Slowly he pushed himself up, using the wall to steady himself. With a quick few steps he moved towards her table."What is it?"

Solgrin asked.

"A contract?" It was what she had thought in the first place, and it seemed the most logical thing to have been inscribed on the obelisk.
 
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"Kind of," Sera gushed and with ink stained fingers began to clear the other pieces of parchment, books and extra quills out of the way as if to see what she had written more clearly. She placed the original etching next to it and barely waited for Sol to stand beside her before launching into her translation.

"It's more like a binding," which apparently was a big difference to the young girl for she emphasised the word as though underlining it. "And it was sealed with blood magic," she tapped the odd symbol that finished the inscription. "This I believe was actually carved with the blood of the first townspeople who made the pact, and the blood of the necromancers. The binding stops the two from harming one another. The townsfolk promise to deliver Flesh that no longer contains a Cherished One, and in return the Necromancers offer protection for each new generation," she traced each line when she quoted an exact section.

"So even if the townspeople did want to leave, they can't. If they do they die."
 
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"Lovely." Trouble always came with blood magic.

He didn't know a single use of it that didn't end up with some sort of fucking chaos at one point or another. He pinched the bridge of his nose, listening to the rest of what Serafina described. A frown touched his lips as she spoke of the pact and just what it would do.

Briefly he glanced over towards Marion.

She had wanted to leave this place, go somewhere else, better. Now it turned out that she wouldn't even be able to. Lips thinned for a moment. "I wonder...do they all know?"

He asked quietly.

"This must have been made hundreds of years ago." Maybe more, though his question was almost immediately cut off. "But...if each new generation has to make the sacrifice...."

Solgrin trailed off, and slowly he realized just why they had been attacked.
 
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"Then at least some of these townsfolk know exactly what is going on and they want to protect it," Sera finished and let out a deep breathe now her findings were delivered. Now she had finished she felt almost empty and tiredness crept in like an unwelcome guest. She rubbed at both eyes to clear them of sleep but sat down heavily in her chair again to take the weight off her foot which she was now realising hurt quite badly. The medicinal herbs Maria had given her earlier must have worn off at some point.

"If we can find them, if there's nobody alive who holds the pact with their blood, then the pact is broken."
 
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Slowly Solgrin nodded his head, though he wondered if Serafina knew what that would actually mean. The Bandit Chief was no stranger to massacre, but Sera? Well she hadn't exactly seen every harsh reality that this world had to offer.

He reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "You did well."

More she could not do now.

"Why don't you get some rest." They knew know another piece of the puzzle, another thing that could help them. If this pact was broken it would weaken the Temple, and that would help Einar get his daughter.

It just also meant falling back on old ways. Killing. Just like he had always done. "You've been up a while now."

He said with a soft smile.