Open Chronicles We held the line

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn quill scratched away at the parchment. There was little noise to join the rhythm of his handwriting flowing across the page. There was almost no breeze to rattle the windows and the house was on the edge of the town, away from the bustle.

The small town of Brillen-on-water spanned both sides of a river that was vital for trade. When there was daylight there were barges passing under the two bridges in both directions. Like those barges Raigryn was passing through. A simple scribe. A simple scribe who carried a bastard sword most young town guards would barely be able to lift.

"All done," Raigryn said quietly. The young merchant stood over his shoulder and stroked his waxed beard. In this part of the world literacy had barely started to reach below members of the church and the nobility. A scribe could make good coin from the merchants. This one was supposedly the wealthiest in town.

"Very neat," he said, dropping a small stack of coins on the table. It was more than promised and would cover Raigryn for several nights in a local inn. A few meals and some wine too.



Raigryn wasted no time in packing up his writing tools and leaving the three-story building. As he left the gate a horse nearly smashed him back into the gardens. Raigryn swore under his breath and closed the gate behind him.

"Make way!" he heard from behind over the thundering of hooves. Another rider flashed past. Raigryn looked after the rider, feeling a sense of foreboding deep in his gut.

He turned and looked down the road. The two riders had come from the North gate. Soon he saw other figures on the road. They weren't on foot, but they were running.

"What's going on?" Raigryn called out to the first woman. She had her skirts hitched up and had a heavy sack over her shoulder. She ignored him. He stepped in the path of a young man also running and repeated the question.

"The undead! A group broke off from the horde! They're half a day out!"

Raigryn could not keep the lad any longer. He had been travelling north to find out where the undead were. They shouldn't have been this close. Last word was that they were two hundred miles north, beyond the Fallam Ridge. Half a day wasn't enough. It would take longer than that to evacuate the norther side of the city across the river and to bring down the bridges.

"I need my sword," Raigryn muttered to himself. Reaching out with his Empathy he borrowed some fear from the young man, whose stride immediately slowed. It was never pleasant to steal the negative emotions, but it was a boon to those around him. Raigryn knew he would need every ounce of magic he could gather.

 

[Seredic]

“The Wine of Destiny,”

She came to him in the dream again. The angelic being radiating a dim, foreboding light, wearing a white cloak with a hood which hid her face. The glass full of wine held between her slender fingers. The spirit walked slowly towards him whispering something in a language he could not comprehend.

Seredic lumbered to her, his eyes still stinging from the light she radiated despite its low brightness. The Halfling saw her once before a year ago. Seredic was always skeptical of beings of higher power but this angelic being felt real and was calling to him. But why?

“Who are you?” Seredic wanted to say but his lips did not move it was though they were sewn shut. “She was the reason why I went on this bloody journey,” Thought Seredic. “Could I at least get your name?”

The angelic being knelt down and handed Seredic the wine whispering. “You are its maker. The Wine of Destiny.”

“I am?” Seredic asked in a small pained voice his lips moving freely now though his throat hurt and his head began to throb. “Then where do I go? What ingredients do I need?!”

The Angelic Being said nothing still holding out the cup. Seredic shook his head, scrunching his face in frustration. “Why are you so bloody silent?!” He shouted before holding his head in pain. The ground beneath Seredic began to tilt forward and he felt himself flying towards the woman.

The smell of blood and smoke-filled Seredic nostrils now and the Halfling tumbled out of a brown box. All Seredic saw was a blur of various shapes and colors. He blinked multiple times in an attempt to adjust his vision.

“What did I miss?” He thought looking around

He turned around and to his horror saw the corpse of the bartender who generously gave Seredic free cups of wine last night lying face first on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Four arrows pierced his back.

Seredics stomach rolled over and immediately last nights dinner of soup and meat along with hundreds of cups of wine came out from his mouth. The sheer amount of contents spewing out, force Seredic on his knees.

 

[Saul Talith]

Thirteen Templar.

That was all he had with him here.

Six were from the Broken Sword, his own Order. They were all of the martial sort, carrying blessed blades and anointed shields. Good for protecting and holding the line. Two were from the Black Templar, a man and a woman who had been trained zealously to use their magics against the darkness of the world. Three were from the Rose, masters with the bow. The last two had left their orders, choosing to stand with the grand Alliance.

They were all good soldiers, excellent warriors, Saul could not have asked for anyone better to fight besides. But they were not enough.

Thirteen Templar would not be enough for the task ahead of them. Thirteen Templar would barely be enough to make a scratch. The only hope he had was that they could help the City Watch long enough for reinforcements to arrive, though that might take days.

He and the others had come to the city as envoys, mostly offering their support against the growing horde of undead in the North. Some of his Alliance had told him he should take an army then and there, but Saul knew that politics dictated the impossibility of such things. The Templar Wars were still in the memory of some cities, and marching an army into a land without warning was inviting nothing but trouble.

Thus he was now stuck with only thirteen Templar.

"It will have to do." Saul said as he and the others marched towards the walls.

 

[Rhan Terrwyn]

Rhan was sat nursing her tenth tankard of ale, feeling a bit less than sensible. But why the hell not? Some bail jumper had her chasing him out as far as Brillen-on-Water. It had been a hard day's work for her, so she felt she earned herself a good few drinks. She could always go home in the morning and write up the cost of her accommodation as part of her work expenses. At least she now had an excuse for turning up late tomorrow as well, so she planned on making the most of it.

She looked around, feeling a bit disappointed it wasn't very lively in this pub. She had never been this far up North before, so she was hoping to experience a bit of fun and excitement outside the norm. But it was dead. The place was empty, save for Rhan and the bartender, who was singing softly to himself while cleaning the dishes. "I was thinking of closing early," he called out. "But you've been my only customer all day, so if you want to keep drinkin' then that's fine!"

"Anywhere open that's a bit more lively?" Rhan asked.

"Pro'ly not," the bartender replied. "Been havin' a lot of trouble up in these parts lately so we don't get many visitors."

"What kind of trouble?" Rhan asked, her interest piqued.

"Ah, you cityfolk wouldn't believe it if I told you," the bartender said.

"Uh huh..." Rhan murmured, her voice trailing as her attention was caught by what sounded like a troop of heavily armoured soldiers marching past the window.

"Speaking of trouble..." the bartender muttered, putting down the tankard and towel on the bar and making his way over to the door.

Rhan followed him onto the street to see that people were either barricading their homes or fleeing further away from the wall. The bartender grabbed a young boy who was running by. "What's happening?" he asked the lad.

"It's the undead," the boy said fearfully. "They're heading for us!"

The bartender let the boy go. "Crikey," he said. "This town isn't well defended either. We'll be overrun for sure."

Rhan laughed. "The undead?!" she asked in disbelief. "You mean like ghouls, or zombies?"

The bartender shot her an angry glare. "Blasted cityfolk," he spat contemptuously. "Look, if you knew what was good for you, you would head back down south behind your big walls."

A look of sympathy spread across Rhan's face. "I can help though," she said earnestly.

The bartender looked her up and down. "You certainly look like you'd be useful in a fight," he admitted as he went back into the pub and retrieved an axe from behind the bar. "I plan on making myself useful as well."

Rhan couldn't quite believe that it was some horde of re-animated corpses that were on their way to the town, but she was convinced there was some sort of trouble heading their way. "Lead the way, old man," she said with a shrug.

The bartender nodded. "Let's head to the walls to see what we can do," he said.

 

[Angharad]

"When the Dead do walk, seek water’s run,
For this the Dead will always shun.
Swift river’s best or broadest lake
To ward the Dead and haven make.
If water fails thee, fire’s thy friend;
If neither guards, it will be thy end."

Angharad was reminded of the old rhyme as she stood on the bridge. Brillen-on-Water was a defensible town with the river its artery. It exacted a toll on any passing traffic and that paid for the upkeep of its walls and other benefits. She looked down at the quick flowing water, wishing she could just take a barge and leave the town.

Humans. They'd spread like a plague across Arethil. Angharad couldn't remember a time before them but some of the Elders could. The lorewardens spoke of a time when elvenkind ruled supreme before the cataclysm, before their schism. Now a once mighty empire was a fractured remnant of outposts, garrisons, and ports.

Leave to what end? So the undead could destroy the town and go onto another? These weren't the humans her ancestors had waged war with. But why stay? She'd seen the wary looks when she'd dismounted. Her unnatural height and appearance made her stand out. There'd be little gratitude if she fought, even less if they won. They were a fickle lot.

She spat and straightened up. She might run another time but it wouldn't be today. For now, there was fighting to be done. She was no closer to her quarry than she had been a month ago. A battle wasn't going to decide it. Like most of her kind, Angharad had a fatalistic view on the world. If it was to be her time, then so be it.

For once there weren't stares directed at her, too many of the humans were focused on their way out of the town before the undead came.

 

[Achates]

The sounds of bones shifting and moving back into place echoed in the woman’s inner ear. She wondered if others around her if they were still breathing could hear it as well. Slender and hairless fingers ran along her sharp jaw as she adjusted it giving her frame a final crack and pop. The woman plopped near a tree and took a long drink from her water bag. Changing was never easy, it hurt beyond belief and tended to be expensive having to always buy new clothing – once she ruined one of her favorite shirts.

Gasps for air echoed in the dead of the night as she brought the bag to her side – empty. Cursing slightly under her breath, she knew she should have brought more supplies, but she didn’t think she was going to have to use everything in her arsenal. After some time, she gathered her strength and finished putting her equipment back on. She had already changed, but she needed to get rid of the torn clothing from her change. “Man, I just bought these too.” Tossing the scraps of clothing onto the pile of bones she had dug up, defended, and killed over – seemed to be just another day in the office.

Salt was poured onto the bones from a small leather pouch she kept at her side. The mineral covered the bones and her shredded clothing, there was a low hiss, and this alerted the monster hunter that she had found the right bones. Whistling a lovely tune, she dug in her bag to find the flint and steel.

Kneeling down, the flint struck against the steel and caused sparks. Easily the brush and her torn clothing caught flame and burned against the bones. It didn’t take much time for the bones to burn and her job to be finished. Cleaning up, Achates made sure nothing was evident of her dealings and she stretched and looked up, it was time to turn in or find some shelter. Walking down the curving path into the town she turned into the nearest inn and slept. Every time this sort of fight happens, the woman found herself sleeping through the night and into the day.

Following all of this, Achates found herself wandering the town and there was a bad feeling that hung out in her stomach as she found her way towards a pub. She moved towards the door but was almost run down by the old man and his axe along with a taller woman. Blinking, Achates scratched the side of her face as she moved to follow Rhan Terrwyn. “Uh, what’s going on?” She called out to the woman and the man with the axe. Before she could get an answer she caught a glimpse of a Halfling losing everything he ate. Exhaling softly, she called out to him as well. The Halfling, Seredic concerned her, "You okay?"

 

[Seredic]

Seredic craned his head towards the dead bartender what was his name? Edd right? A jolly fellow albeit a bit off-balance at times. It seems that he gets drunk off his own products, Seredic knows that all too well the taste of wine is like a lover. Once she embraces you, there is no way to escape her vice. "Oh Sally," The Halfling thought his heart becoming aflutter with the mere thought of his wife. A lovely woman, an intelligent, unkept but an otherwise great woman. Seredic remembered Sally's smile, the way she stroked his hair while he wrote his poetry and the way she sang during festivals.

"Focus," the halfling said to himself. "She's dead and there's nothing you can do about it." The day she died in childbirth however was the day he Seredic stopped being happy. "Well about Edd," Seredic said to the woman kicking the corpse of the bartender. "Edd is dead," The Halfling muttered "Edd is dead,"

Not exactly something he should have said but for Seredic only knew the man for only 2 hours. All Seredic recalled was that he entered the room, met Edd and drank 5 cups of Dragon's Flame. A favorite beverage of Seredic's. There was something unique about alcohol that can get you piss drunk and at the same time have a spicy, flaming flavor taking over your mouth.....

"Barely knew the man," Seredic shrugged. "But he's known for having one of the rarest alcohol beverages in the world. I guess that's how I'll remember him. Humans die that's practically the reason the Gods created them. That and create lots of ale."

Now to business, the area was dark, grimy and almost mazelike. Seredic was starting to sober a bit and immediately suspicion befell onto an Elf no a Half Elf. It was pretty convenient that she arrived the moment he stumbled out. Was it fate or chance? Who cares at this time, the Halfling somehow ended up in this mysterious place and this pretty little woman is the first person he saw. "Tell me this is a nightmare," Seredic muttered looking around. "If I close my eyes I can change it right now!"

The Halfling shut his eyes tight while clenching his small fists. "I Imagining! Gingerbread houses with chocolate chip cookies as roads! And the rivers are flowing with Rasberry syrup! And you sweetheart is actually is my future wife giving me the Wine of Destiny!"

Seredic opened his eyes and looked around and immediately frowned. "Damn it's real," he said disappointed. "And It seems that trouble always follows me like a battered spouse. So woman I don't know the name of, where are we exactly and do you know how I ended up here?"

 

[Vanya Valentine]

"To rend one's enemies is to see them not as equals,
but objects - hollow of spirit and meaning~"

{x}
​

Eldorado

A chase after non existing dreams and hopes, the dream of fortune and fame to all be in your hand and control. It was a dangerous search and hunt, a dangerous world you would enter and chase your entire life to never find, die unhappy, unpleased and unsatisfied. Greed would consume you, kill your joy for life, your one and main reason to live was to find the treasure, the selected target marked with an X on the map. Never would you get far, never would you find what you wanted or were looking for. You mainly cast away your life for a chest of gold, a setup of dreams and hopes that were never real. Gold diggers and the like search for this their entire life. And if. If it existed and they ever found it, ever stood with it in their hands, earned and got the gold, the treasure and fame. What would they do with it? Where would they go, what would they live for? They found their dreams, they found their hopes, the lived out the life they searched, they stand with everything at hand, there would be no greed left, you would have it all, what should become of your life then? You lived only to chase the treasure, and you won it, you got the handsome girl, the gold and fame.

Game over.

Life has ended, that's what happens. And a select few knew of it. And here...there was no Eldorado; no city of gold, no life of gold or purpose, there was nothing here. No riches, no fame, there was just the game, the tricking game to lure you into the danger of a empty life. The Huntress saw the truth, she could see behind the big screen on the wall, she could see how it worked. That was all it was, it wasn't mighty or pretty, it wasn't gold.

But despite this, The Huntress still found it all so amusing. Because while most threw away their lives for the mere idea of finding a mythical city of gold...Vanya was searching for something herself. It was no city, no treasures, no riches or fame.

No here...she she hunted for one thing only.

Prey.

An icy pair of eyes flicking back and forth over the distance in the horizon as the mysterious woman watched the skies above. And watch she did....Her keen eyes shifting back and forth from behind her crimson lenses as the enigma whistled joyously. Unable to contain her whimsy as she swayed to the sound of her own song. The town erupting into a panic as women and children barricaded their doors, warned their children to hide away into the basement and the men grabbed pitch forks, blunt objects, torches and blades while preparing to defend their homes.

And among the chaos and and bustling civilians of the town walked a single lady in black. Draped in a simple nobleman jacket weaved from the finest of cloths as the end of the long-coat dangled past her ankles, clearly displaying she was not a commoner and nor was she a simple traveler. A blood red shirt beneath the jacket while being held snugly in place by a fine corset with silver latching. The shirt unbuttoned and exposing the woman's generous bosom as displaying her healthy figure.

And carrying a large Briefcase by her side with a dark raven perched on her shoulders made it clear to anyone who merely observed the stranger that she was clearly not from around here. Silver framed glasses concealing her eyes behind blood-like lenses as her coat fluttered slightly in the breeze. She was extremely well dressed in fashion akin to that of nobility, her hair tied back into a ponytail with a red ribbon holding it back nice and neat. Dark colored lipstick graced upon full lips and a silver cross dangling from black and red beads wrapped around her forearm and wrist. And she continued to whistle, the tone of her dark lullaby filling the evening air as the monster followed her nose to the fun part.

So exercise caution little lambs.

The Wolves are out to play~

 

[REG]

jregh had a hard time sleeping half of the time. he didn't much care, considering he could easily stay up for two days with slight fatigue, however.. after day three, he was out.. he was one day and five hours into no sleep, and he had just been about to go rest in a nearby tavern when he heard the frantic imagining of the halfling, and realization seemed to fall upon him like a pile of bricks.

"sorry, afraid no amount of imagining will disappear an army, halfling." he sighed out, moving to draw his axes. "well, who will be battling? ought to stick to groups, safety in numbers, don't you think?" the half-orc offered, looking between the half-elf and halfling.

"by the way, im jregh. everyone calls me reg. thought that might be helpful if we might be fighting together."

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

The innkeeper where Raigryn had been staying had given him a knowing nod as he rushed in to collect his things. The dwarf had been packing up his finest brews and loading them onto a wagon that was waiting outside. The dwarf raised a bushy eyebrow as Raigryn returned with his sword slung over his shoulder.

Raigryn turned out of the door and headed south. The fear around him let him fill his supply of Misery quickly. However it was one of the most subtle forms of Empathy. Curses and hexes were not the tools to fight the undead in the field.

He did not get far before he saw the crowds. Wagons had choked up the two bridges. There were screams as the crowd jostled to reach barges. Raigryn pulled himself to the top of a wall to get a view. It was chaos. Town guard were trying to hurry everyone along but the town hadn't grown with a sudden evacuation from one side of the river to the other in mind.

Half a day would not be enough. Perhaps it would take a full day. He was tempted to suggest to the guard that they sent some wagons out the north gate and around the city walls to head east. Raigryn could feel now that the crowd had a mind of its own. It wouldn't be controlled easily. All his remaining Charity would barely calm the crowd. He turned north for the wall.

It was no much of a wall. It was at least stone and wouldn't immediately collapse under a weight of undead. It was only eight feet high and much of it did not half a walkway or anything for a defender to fight from.

Raigryn swore under his breath.

 

[Rhan Terrwyn]

The further north Rhan and the bartender ventured into town, the quieter it got. It almost felt like a ghost town, except the faint sound of men shouting orders could be heard in the distance. "So..." Rhan ventured, hoping to break the awkward silence. "What's your name, old man?"

"Benjamin," the bartender said.

Rhan nodded. "I'm Rhan," she said.

Benjamin nodded. "Well met, I suppose," he said.

More silence followed before Benjamin suddenly stopped. "Hang on a sec," he said. "Friend o' mine runs this pub. Somethin' don't feel right."

Benjamin clenched his axe tightly as he wandered towards the door, which was left slightly ajar. Rhan followed, tense with anticipation and a bizarre thrill of excitement. Benjamin was about to burst in when suddenly a slender, elfin lady seemed to appear out of nowhere. The bartender nearly jumped out of his skin. "By the gods, woman!" he growled through gritted teeth. Without another word, he entered the pub.

"Uh, what's going on?" the elfin lady asked.

Rhan shrugged. "Seems the town's about to fall under attack," she said in reply. "Apparently it's zombies, but I find that hard to believe."

She followed Benjamin into the bar to a bizarrely unsettling site. A dead man with several arrows protruding from his back and a tiny little man in a state of panic. The elfin lady addressed the Halfling while Benjamin was futilely checking the dead bartender for any signs of life. Another person happened upon this bizarre gathering, a man with orcish features, armed with a pair of axes and seeming rather matter-of-fact about the prospect of there being a battle coming. He introduced himself as Jregh, a name Rhan struggled to pronounce even in her head. Benjamin was having none of it, however, his attention turned solely towards the Halfling. "You, you little bastard," he snarled, axe gripped ready to attack and completely interrupting whatever conversation was going on between the Halfling and the elfin lady. "Did you kill this man?!"

Rhan was feeling rather overwhelmed and uncomfortable by this turn of events. "What is going on?" she thought, not even sure what to do. A Halfling, an Orc, an Elf and a couple of humans along with a dead body. It was almost like the introduction to some dark joke.

 

[Fraeya]

The elf bristled as another shoulder bumped hers. And then another. She was near Saul Talith and that outer wall. The young woman tried to stick her own elbows out and find those spaces between the panicked mob fleeing. Fingers gripped the pack on her back protectively.

She didn’t have to worry about mage hunters spotting her in a crowd like this. They had bigger problems to deal with. Tip of her pointed nose quivered.

Fraeya could smell them from here. Something that stank more than the typical human. Undead.

Another shoulder bump.

“Move,” she growled, voice crackling like fire. Somewhere down the path she could feel another magic user. Multiple. For a moment, it felt like this presence was moving with her. The girl cast a surreptitious glance over her shoulder but didn’t see anyone. Focus turned back to the entrance at the wall.

The elf could hear them. And feel them. There was a barn just outside the wall. Fraeya didn’t care about the humans; she cared about helping the beasts trapped in the barn.

 

[Vanya Valentine]

Ever the noble, Red strode dirt streets of the town with an easy grace. Confident, yet unassuming. Strong but not bold. Her face was blank, a rare sight to behold, and one might guess that this was The Wolf without moment to moment fulfillment. No pawns to lure, no soldiers to dominate, no prey to hunt and feast upon...

Just blank. Empty. And that was how she felt - or rather did not feel - for much of the time. Despite the mystery shrouding her very existence Vanya was an extremely simple woman. It wasn't hard to figure out what motivated her to move with urgency and what distracted her from whatever task she may of been preforming. Her more affectionate moments with others might have appeared touching to a casual observer, or an eager audience expecting of course that since Vanya cares for them, she cares for everyone. But while said audience might begin to see the pale woman, creepy smile notwithstanding, as a good 'ole softy, a romantic, or even just a woman with normal emotions, and this is simply not the case.

Vanya was an extremely expressive and emotional individual, almost overbearingly so as she displayed such unconditional kindness to complete strangers that it often gave others the wrong impression about the devilish woman. And as her heels clacked audibly against the cobblestone tile beneath her feet and her loud, audible whistling tune almost drowned out the banter and panic happening within the pub she stood just outside of. Her icy gaze searching beyond the door as she inhaled deeply through her nostrils...oh she could smell many individuals within this pub.

Immediately he singled out an Elf, an Orc, and a Dwarf. She then scented humans and the foul scent of a dead body and crystallized blood which made Vanyas stomach squirm. Something had transpired here in town despite the place not yet being invaded...

Now was probably the best time to involve herself. The raven from her shoulder quickly vanishing from her shoulder and flying into the bar, flapping its large wings rapidly and zip zapping back and forth across the room as if to distract the arguing group surrounding the body.

The bird then swooshed upward and landed flawlessly up on the antlers of some kind of mounted animal on the wall, staring down at the rest of them with its cold, blue eyes. And odd trait to see in a raven yet alone most animals.

And after that dramatic little distraction Vanya took this as her cue to enter the cent. Venturing into the pub and searching the room carefully while sauntering up towards the group, pausing once she was a few feet away from the body and tilting her head curiously. She then looked to the others and gave a toothy grin, revealing those almost protruding fangs as they glistened in the light.

"Don't worry darlings...i'm a doctor~" She mused, her cold eyes examining The Orc REG , the humanoid woman Rhan Terrwyn , and of course Achates. Who managed to hold Vanyas gaze for a long, long while. The scent she radiated making it clear to The Huntress that the woman was...a kindred spirit of sorts. Forcing a grin to spread across her death painted lips before erupting into impish laughter before continuing with her point. "But right now i don't think a doctor is what you lot need...is it?" She asked bluntly, gesturing towards the gates where the soldiers proclaimed intimate attack. "Seems to me the situation at hand calls for a professional~" She teased with a wicked smirk as her reflective lenses flared with a dim, glowing blue light from her eyes in excitement.

It was gonna be a delightful night~

 

[Achates]

The Halfling kept her attention as he spouted several things. She didn’t understand why he assumed his imagination would change what was going on around them. Her first instinct of course was to wonder if he was some sort of mage. Maybe it was possible all of this around him was of his own nightmarish doing. Looking around as he rambled off several things, she noticed nothing changed. He laid his eyes on her and she took a step back as he announced that she was possibly his future wife. Shaking her head and trying to hide the soft pink that danced across her fair cheeks, she did her best to answer him.

“No, I don’t think that I am – and I have no idea, I’m trying to find that part out myself” As she finished the man with the axe accused the Halfling of killing the man in the room. Her keen senses knew that this was far from the truth. The man was killed a few hours ago and from the smell coming from the Halfling she figured alcohol did him in before he could even fathom killing the bartender. Achates wanted to step in and defend the Halfling, but everything seemed to be moving a lot faster than she had wanted it to. Possibly, she needed a bit more time to wake up from her long slumber.

The door creaked open and another joined them – instantly the half elf could feel the small hairs on her neck stand after catching a glimpse and a whiff of what the woman was. The young monster hunter had never come across someone like this and she caught the woman’s gaze and never looked away from it. They were similar and she knew that, but there was something more to this other woman.

Stepping forward, the ruby eyed half elf folded her arms carefully in front of her chest as she stared at the new arrival. “A professional? What sort of professional are you?” Pausing she looked back at Rhan Terrwyn who had mentioned undead, “There’s a possibility of the undead arriving – you equipped for that?” She not only looked at Vayna, but also the Halfling who was roughly at her side now. “I’m Achates, and undead along with other monsters of the night are my specialty, and you are?” Her attention was drawn again by Vanya Valentine

Spoiler

Seredic Raigryn Vayd Fraeya Elwing Saul Talith REG Angharad

 

[Saul Talith]

Saul and the others moved quickly through the fleeing crowd. It was one advantage of his armor, most men and women saw it and could immediately identify what he was.

In a situation like this the Templar were welcomed with open arms, and more than a few citizens saluted them or even offered praise. It was something they were used to, though as odd as it was. Normally they were scorned, spat at, sometimes even cursed by old village ladies.

His Order was an enigma to many people.

They were not Lords, nor Kings, but held many of the same powers. They were an army after all, one not controlled by anyone but themselves. A thousand years ago that had lead to the destruction of villages and towns at a whim.

Saul understood why people were nervous. "Find the watch commander."

The Lord Captain said to one of the Templar with him as they approached the gatehouse ahead of them. The doors were already sealed thankfully, though from the state of it he wasn't exactly sure that they would last more than an hour against a full horde of undead.

"Start gathering wood. Timber, chairs, doors, anything that can be thrown behind the gates." He frowned, realizing that the move would probably upset people. "If someone stops you...remind them a door is cheaper than a life."

No doubt that would bring trouble, but there was no choice.

The walls were bad enough, but if that gate fell this city would burn in a matter of minutes. Nevermind half a day.

 

[Gunnolf Odinson]

Gunnolf wiped the blood off of his battle axe, smiling with glee as he did. He examined the scene around him, and watched as his crew fought bravely against the pirates that had foolishly decided to attempt to board Gunnolf's ship, Naglfar. He listened to the screams as the invading pirates died at the hands of the great warriors that were Gunnolf's crew. The pirate let out a roaring battle cry as he charged into the fray, swinging his axe mercilessly as he went.

Gunnolf woke suddenly from his dream. He lie motionlessly on the cold ground for a moment, trying desperately not to throw up the mead he had consumed so much of before passing out. In his drunken state, the pirate couldn't remember the name of the town that he was currently in, hell, he could barely remember even arriving at the town the day before. All he could remember was drinking a lot, and passing out. However, he was now awake and needed something to do, so he stood up from the bush he had passed out in, which was now crushed from his weight, and made his way out on to the street.

Maneuvering his way through town was difficult, he was very hungover, maybe still completely drunk, and everyone was running around for some reason. He could hear the shouts of the frantic villagers as they darted through the streets, and could make out the sounds of boards being hung as people barricaded their houses. One person almost knocked his battle ax out of his hands, and he had to grab the handle tightly to keep from dropping it on the ground.

Step by step, Gunnolf walked slowly down the street until he came to a pub. In his experiences, the best thing to do when too drunk, is to keep drinking. He was about to open the door and walk in when he felt the contents of his stomach slosh around a bit too much. He quickly propped his battle ax on the ground, using it as support as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the street. When he finished heaving, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and made his way inside the pub.

As he stumbled through the door Gunnolf shouted out "Barkeep! I need a drink!" As he finished his statement he focused on the scene before him. A man was lying dead on the floor, with arrows protruding from his back, and a group of people stood around the body, talking amongst themselves. Gunnolf took in the features of the group, and noticed that it was quite an odd gathering. There was a halfling, who seemed to be as drunk as Gunnolf himself was, a group of women, which he smiled upon seeing, and a large orc, that the pirate figured he could take in a fight if he had to. After taking this all in, Gunnolf let out a thunderous laugh before asking, "Does this mean I won't be getting that drink?"

 

[Cadger]

The shrill call on the wind was the first thing Cadger noticed. He was still getting used to towns and settlements and he always thought the noises they made to be peculiar affairs. This noise however was nothing like the call of any animal he knew about, nor any in workings of a settlement . It was a multitude of cries, dry and coarse; vile really.

Cadger has been traveling for many ten day when he found the signs leading to the town of Brillen. He was curious to see the settlement. As he traveled down the road a rider flew past him, yelling something at him that he didn’t quite understand. The warning only added to the mystery of the cry as he heard it yet again.

The elf paused and closed his eyes. Something wasn’t right. The noise slowly increased in intensity as it ocellated in pitch and tone. A branch snapping behind him in the trees popped his eyes open again and he turned to see the disturbance.

It was once beautiful perhaps, her features were fair, her lips stained red. The wretched creature was anything but fair however. She snapped her jaw in an angry growl as she turned to regard Cadger, her next meal. The zombie shambled towards him at once growling in glee.

Cadger was a few yards away from her but didn’t hesitate to pull his bow from his back and notch an arrow. Never had he seen such wickedness before in all his life and his first instinct was to kill it. As he pulled the string back he silently waited to gauge her reaction. Any normal being would wail and protest at being aimed at, yet this thing only jerked faster towards him, only showing more eagerness to come to a demented embrace. He let fly.

As the arrow plummeted into her breast his eyes grew wide in alarm at her lack of reaction. His shot should have at the very least maimed her, yet she continued to charge him. Having no time to ponder he drew another arrow and let fly again, this time aiming higher. His arrow sunk into her eye socket, causing he wretched thing to stumble forward, landing at his feet.

He barely had time to sigh in relief when he heard more commotion further behind the downed ghoul. More of them.

Cadger notched another arrow but didn’t take aim as he noticed more and more emerge from the trees. Now he understood what the rider had been warning him about. He turned and took flight towards the town. He only hoped he could make the safety of civilization before too many of the wretched creatures found him.

 

[Seredic]

"My dear Half-Elf," Seredic muttered to the woman. "We are all trying to figure who we are even as we get old and gray, people tend to be surprised on what they can do."

Honestly Seredic didn't want to be here, he rather be at home drinking himself to death. However, it was that bloody dream by the Angelic being was what urged him to leave his home. He didn't know anything about the Wine of Destiny and what powers it bought just that Seredic was destined to make it. No books about the Wine existed leaving the Halfling frustrated and confused but he kept going none the less.

Seredic began lightly slapping himself on the cheeks trying to listen to the human talking to the whole group. He was broad shouldered, gray hair along with a wrinkled face and scars carved on to them clearly this is a man with years of battle on him and those eyes.... Seredic sighed they looked weary and tired as though he's seen things that he didn't want to see. "The eyes of a warrior....." he muttered to himself.

The Hafling frowned and stepped away from Edd's corpse he began to stink with his stench filling his nostrils. Did this old human say that there was undead outside? Well shit as if this day couldn't get any worse "that gingerbread land sounds appealing right now." Seredic mumbled stumbling to the Half-Elf. "I can see why even in death Edd is shitting himself."

In his 3 years of traveling, the only thing that harmed Seredic was the terrible Crab he ate at some secluded village named: Little Portshaw the Halfling made sure to steer clear of any dangerous routes during his travels. Seredic bought up to date maps, read books about the safest roads to travel and conversed with adventurers about places to avoid. If he was going to find the ingredients to make the Wine of Destiny then he'll do it without losing his life. Seredic rather likes his life and wants preserve it despite how rotten it has become.

“Come,” Seredic said offering his hand to woman “We must find a place to hide. Us Halflings must be careful unless we want to be crushed by the crushing weight of the undead. It happened to my uncle when I was five years old. A terrible tragedy.”

 

[Fraeya]

Up ahead, she saw the gate was closed behind Saul Talith. She squinted as the sun hit his armor. Annoyance ticked her jaw. Lips thinned and pointed ears twitched.

There was a break in people. Looked like there were no more to be let in. Or perhaps the city had closed some survivors out? Squaring her shoulders, she marched forward - past the shiny, and she thought, rather pretentious armor, to the guard at the gate. Chin tilted slightly upwards. She could make that climb. The wall was out of stone. But if she didn't have to - all the better.

"You letting folk out or what?"

The guard stared down at her and for a moment. A long moment.

"Doors are sealed. Better for you in here."

Her eyes narrowed. Walking slowly around him, she stared down the taller man even if she couldn't see his eyes behind the helmet. Then her attention snapped to the wall where she began to climb.

"....the hell." The door-guard muttered, unsure of what to do.

 

[Rhan Terrwyn]

"There's a possibility of the undead arriving - you equipped for that?" asked the elfin lady.

Rhan raised an eyebrow. "Why is everyone talking as if the undead are real?" she wondered. However, the thought did occur to her that she didn't even have a weapon, while everyone else seemed to be well armed. In the city, her fists were enough to deal with just about anyone, but out here might be a different story. She felt rather stupid at the realisation, but rather than openly admit that, she decided to play it like it was no big deal. "Pfft, yeah," she scoffed confidently as more people entered the bar. "I'm totally equipped for that."

She turned her attention to the new arrivals. Another elfin lady, who referred to herself as a doctor, and a human male of slightly bigger stature than Rhan herself, who was demanding another drink. "Could do with another drink myself," Rhan thought, scratching the back of her head. She had been sobering up quickly over this weird turn of events.

Meanwhile, Benjamin was almost losing it with the Halfling. "I asked if you were the one who killed Edd!" he growled.

Rhan did find it odd that no one else seemed to be interested in what she felt to be the elephant in the room; the dead bartender with the arrows in his back. "Can zombies even use a bow and arrow?" she asked, a hint of a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips.

Benjamin shot her a hateful glare. "This was not the work of the undead!" he said.

Rhan doubted any of this was the work of the undead, but didn't press the matter. Someone within the town's walls had killed this bartender, and it didn't seem to be anyone in this room. She glanced to the dead corpse to find that it was stirring. "Hey..." she said, pointing to the corpse as it began twitching and getting to its feet. "What's he doing?"

With vicious intent, the 'dead' bartender lunged at Benjamin swiftly and suddenly. Benjamin screamed in agony as the bartender sunk its jaws into his shoulder, tearing out a huge chunk of flesh, exposing the bone. Rhan's face went white with horror as blood gushed from Benjamin's wound. Acting fast, she tackled the rabid bartender to the ground, pinning it down and pressing its head against the floor. It's jaws was gnashing viciously as it tried in vain to chomp at Rhan. "He was dead!" she shouted frantically. "What the hell am I supposed to do?!"

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Far from that bar

Templar. As soon as Raigryn saw them he picked a path that avoided their kind. Most were apparently righteous in their own way. However in most of the cities of man where Empathy was not merely frowned upon it was completely outlawed. The last thing he needed now was a group of overzealous mage hunters bringing him in for questioning before the battle even started. He spotted the watch commander, someone Raigryn wanted to talk to, but he was headed for the templar.

Even if he emptied his reserves of magic Raigryn was not certain how much help he had been. When Empathy had been a prized art of magic he had ridden into battle with princes. Yet no one was likely to listen to him today.

When he found a piece of wall that did have stairs and a rampart he stepped up to take a looked at the situation. The wall was a gentle curve. Despite much of it not being easily defensible it was unbroken. The main issue he came to see was that it was several hundred metres to look after. From his vantage point he could barely see a hundred guards.

"You coming to fight old man?" Raigryn turned to see a young guard holding a halberd. He had too much youthful confidence in his eyes for what was coming.

"I hope I can help, is all," Raigryn replied, giving a polite nod of his head. "Was a soldier once," he said. It was almost a lie. He had been in wars. "How many of them are coming?"

"About a thousand. Big chunk of the horde."

Raigryn scratched at his pale grey beard. "You go tell your commander he needs to think of how to funnel them into the easiest sections of the wall? Maybe spikes. Undead without a leader will just go for movement. Spread your men thin and they'll spread the length of this wall."

"Why don't you tell him?"

"I'm old and my knees hurt. Besides, he might think it an astute observation on your part?"

"Huh." The young guard jogged away in a jangle of chainmail. Off towards his commander who was approaching Saul Talith . Raigryn looked out at the gently sloping ground. They could have done with a few days of ditch digging.

 

[Cadger]

Cadger lived the life of the hunter. He was used to stalking prey. It was the one constant in his life that he could admit to still enjoying, it represented a sense of harmony with nature that was absolute. Never had he been hunted before, never had he been the prey.

The angry growls and shrieks from the mob behind the elf kept him running at a constant pace. What the ghouls were doing couldn’t be called hunting; it was a perversion of the act. No, they merely wanted his essence. Yet he now could say that he might know the fear that prey felt.

He knew he was far from the town so he paced himself to not loose his stamina. This did little to ease his heartbeat. The mounting terror behind him inspired him to keep his pace, while his head demanded that he try to remain calm.

He wasn’t certain that the ghouls saw him, yet he definitely was being herded in one direction. Cadger paused to catch his breath, he looked around as he leaned against a tree. He eagerly reached for his water skin and took a swig just as he noticed a single ghoul walking through some trees not far away.

From what Cadger could surmise the creatures were stupid. The single ghoul got tangled in a mass of branches easily. But where there was one, there was many; and this one was nearly abreast to his distance from the main mass.

Fighting the urge to let fly another arrow, the elf instead tucked his waterskin away and pushed off from the tree trunk towards the direction of the town. He didn’t have time to pick them off one by one, and he didn’t have the luxury of an endless quiver either. Cadger knew that if he let just one of the “scouts” get closer to the town than him then it would be over.

Not for the first time he contemplated on beckoning the beast to come out, but he didn’t have a safe place to transform. He didn’t doubt that the commotion of his changing would bring the horde down on him and he would then join their ranks as some half shaped demon.

Shaking the thought from his head, the elf ran on towards the town. But then what? Would he join the town and fight the horde? Would he use the town as a barrier and keep going? Would he transform? What if the beasts turned on the town? Cadger grimaced at the thought but kept on running. Just one thing at a time, he chided himself.

As he ran he began to hope and wonder if there would be a patrol outside of the town he could take some refuge with. He was beginning to tire from this pursuit and was relying more and more on fear to keep his body moving. Still he darted from tree to tree. Using each trunk as another milestone towards safety. One thing was for certain, his option to flee was slowly but surely running out.

 

[Achates]

Blinking surprised at the Halfling who seemed to not want to bother with the angry bartender, the dead bartender and the rest of the group. The man seemed to be in his own little world, and she wondered if it was a state of shock as to what was occurring around him. Thoughts were interrupted as another drunken man broke through the door and announced himself. Sighing softly, the tips of her short-pointed ears drooped a little, showing her stress at the moment.

A small hand (Seredic ) was offered to her and she tilted her head, she was young, but she wasn’t stupid. There was no way she was going to take the hand of a man, a drunk man that she had just met. Her father taught her better than that. Yet, there was no time to explain to the drunk that they were not going anywhere because she was heading out to fight the possible undead heading that way.

Achates went to answer the tall woman’s sarcastic question with a matter of fact tone prepared, but in that instant a quick movement, a cry of pain and more yelling occurred. Without hesitation, the half elf hunter, drew the hand crossbow and placed a blessed bolt into the mechanism. As the large woman held the reanimated corpse to the ground, the crossbow took aim at point blank range and fired. The corpse would hiss and smoke underneath her and soon stop moving.

“Their heads, you need to crush the brain inside.” Kneeling down, a careful hand removed the bolt and cleaned the end. “After they stop moving, you sprinkle them with salt and burn them, or just burn them.” Knowing that the other man was probably headed the same route, Achates tried to smile. “Your friend, we should fix him up.” A part of her didn’t know if she should explain that he may turn undead himself, she would need to keep observation – there was no need to cause more of a panic. Reaching into her pouch, she handed Rhan a small medical kit.

“Everything in there is blessed, should help stave off anything that Edd had corrupting him.” There was a softness behind her attempt to keep things calm, also a look that told Rhan Terrwyn and anyone else that doubted the possibility of the undead being real, that their doubt was heavily misplaced.

Vanya Valentine Gunnolf Odinson REG

 

[Vanya Valentine]

Ice cold eyes never once left the body as the lady in black loomed over the dead corpse while others bickered and argued with one another above. Her ears twitched from the constant racket, causing her head to throb slightly just from the sheer amount of voices erupting in such a confined little space. Closing her eyes from behind her glasses Red reached up and rubbed her fingers across each side of her temples, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth and devouring every last scent from the body as she could.

She couldn't quite make it out, but something smelled...different about the body before them. Everyone else had an earthy scent associated with living in a town such as this one. Ale, sweat, the typical human stench after a long days work and dwarf filth. It all melded together in a collection of sickening smells that made her stomach tighten into knots.

Truth be told she was stumped! So stumped in fact that in drowning out everyone around her she had completely gone through a mental phone book of the things that could have happened. Murder? Possible, but unlikely given the current circumstances. So what else, natural causes? That would of been Reds main guess had the man not seemed to be in relatively perfect health. If someone died of natural causes there was ever little investigation but here, what laid before them...this reeked of something sinister. Far more dangerous than a mere undead....but for the life of her she could not point out what could of caused it.

But then the body twitched. Ever so subtly, the corpse began to shudder and move of its own accord which made Reds eyes open widely as she continued to sit there crouched mere inches from the former dead body.

"...And what story do you have to tell friend?" She cooed in delight as a grin of amusement spread across her lips. No rot, no confusion in its eyes...not even a heartbeat. Oh she was so enamored with the creature that Red studied the creature as it quickly got hold of all its bodily functions...

And BAM, off to the races with the now undead corpse, frantically attacking the barmaid and dashing right past the lady in front of her on her toes as those piercing blue eyes flared with color and she mouthed an deep, almost audible 'ohhhhhhhhhhhh'.

"I see...i see now yes, that would explain that much but...i need to be sure~" She muttered to herself as the inhabitants of the pub all bustled and panicked while another young warrior took the beast down, chanting to the others about how to better prepare themselves against these sorts of attacks. Reds eyes searched the stranger, a grin across her dark painted lips as she slowly stood up to her full height after the scuffle conceded. Lifting a hand and bringing a hand down to her fingers to blow into them, forcing such a loud, ear bleeding whistle to fill the pub as the black haired woman looked all around, giggling impishly while folding her fingers together as if she were some scholar.

"Everything she said is accurate, silver based weaponry can rubbed in salt are the most effective. Additionally, since you lot are common folk i doubt there are many among you who are men or women of faith. So uhhhhhhhhhh, buh buh~" She began feeling around her jacket pockets and feeling herself up before finally finding a large silver flask, holding it up and shaking it slightly. "This...this here is holy water. What you can do is draw large baths of water and use buckets and pails as defenses. Fill bucket up...one...single...drop of this will make it holy and will burn them into ashes. Ya only got a bit so make it count~" She explained, tossing the flask over to one of the more capable looking men in the pup who was insistent about fortifying defenses. "Make sure to spread the word to others in the town, gather your wounded and keep them in quarantine if possible. Zombies as of now are really your only worries but trust me when i say there is something much more sinister running a muck in this lovely little town. And these undead corpses have only awakened it~" Red directed, lifting a finger and snapping it loudly. The sudden flapping of raven wings flashing past others in the room as the bird landed on her shoulder, cawing ferociously as the familiar spoke to Red telepathically.

"More to events then meets the hunters eye?" The bird asked, making Red shake her head and slowly venture towards the main door while grabbing a bottle of ale right off the table.

"Oh yeah, and if its what i think it might be its gonna be a long night. But first things first...i gotta meet back up with Lasarie, i told her to go grab supplies for the trip and to meet me back at the well in the middle of town when we were both done." She growled, walking over towards the door while explaining things to her familiar. Popping the quark to the wine and lifting it to swallow down a few gulps while the Raven whispered back into her mind.

"And then what?"

...

The blue eyed beast grinned wickedly.

"Then...if i am correct...i feast on prey far more interesting than a simple zombie~" She thought before cackling out loud into almost maniacal laughter out loud as the mysterious lady in black left the pub like some kind of mad woman. Oh this town was far more fun than she initially gave it credit for...now she just hoped it wouldn't disappoint her a second time~

Haloshooter | Achates​

 

[Skadi Valentine]

Laserie was already waiting at the well with the supplies Vanya had requested. Getting them wasn't so much of an adventure, simple haggling with weak little men who seemed more willing to give good deals when they realized she was capable of snapping their necks without even trying.
But the true adventure began on her way to the well to meet up with Vanya. Some mindless idiot stumbled out of an alleyway in front of her, the man seemed to have completely lost his mind, foaming at the mouth as he tried to take a bite out of her, of course she had none of that and kicked his head off, but it was like beating a corpse, for it was indeed a walking corpse. It kept trying to claw at her even without its head, but that's just how she left it, unable to find her.

She ran into several others just like him, zombies hungry for flesh, they posed no challenge and never got close to her. She arrived at the well and waited for Vanya to show up. It would take time of course, but before Vanya could show up several zombies did first. She killed them with about as much ease as the others and soon sat on a pile of newly re-dead corpses with the supplies they needed.

Some people ran screaming past her, some being chased by zombies, but she paid them no mind. She leaned against the well and balanced the point of her dagger on her fingertip. A red tailed hawk flew in and landed on her outstretched hand, it spoke to her through their mental link, "Vanya is on her way now, she should be here any minute. Why don't you wait somewhere out of sight? Surly this is a waste of your strength."
Laserie sighed at the bird, "If I have to wait in one place for another fucking hour with nothing to do, I swear I will go mad!
Besides, these walking dead are fun to play with. They have no tactics, just wild impulse and sheer hunger. I enjoy studying their seemingly random and wild attacks. Perhaps not so random as you might think."

The hawk blinked at her, a bored expression if one could ever be found on such a bird, "You enjoy you're little educational games then, some of us do real work around here."
With that the hawk flew off to scour the city for reportable news.

Vanya Valentine
Achates