Open Chronicles Where the Wild Things are not...

[Maranae]

The exposed stone of the mountainside high above was bathed in the golden light of a setting sun, the golden rays pouring across the land like molasses. Smoke drifted from a hundred chimneys across the cityscape spread before her like a panorama of a mountain fastness, only instead of trees it was roofs and chimneys and windows and dressed stone. Clouds, their underbellies painted in a rainbow hue of fiery oranges and reds, scudded across an otherwise clear sky deepening to dusk.

The smell of the place nearly overwhelmed the young woman as she walked through the cobbled streets, stones so expertly fit that there were few uneven surfaces to trip upon. It was the scent of humanity in its multitude gathered together in tight quarters, and the myriad other scents that went with it - the smell of cooking meat and vegetables, spices sharp and clear, and the scent of perfume to cover the less desirable smells associated with living. The mixture would have been nauseating to her sensitive nose had it not been for the sheer....

Well, the overwhelming nature of it all.

She was a tall young lady, standing easily taller than the majority of the people in the crowds, and while she looked very much human - long, tangled, and fiery red hair framing a finely boned face, skin pale and freckled and fitting quite well with the emerald gems she had for eyes - there was something about the woman that was...off. Not quite right, something in the way she moved. her clothes, tattered and hard worn, were very much out of place too, and she walked the streets barefoot without any apparent concern about it. And other things, much more subtle and harder to pick up. If there was anywhere in the world where it could be noted and identified, though, it would definitely be Elbion. Perhaps she should never have come to this place, but the spirit of the wanderer was with her. She had no home, no place to turn to.

Only dark memories and fragments of something that came before, and all of the images and memories made little sense to the woman who called herself Maranae.

People hurried through the streets to beat the fall of darkness, heading home from their jobs or their studies. She had no eyes for the people, only for the buildings. The people had been amazing - their sheer number - for a time, but it hadn't taken long for the multitude to pale in comparison to all of the buildings, shops, and the like to take her attention and hold it.

"Excuse me, miss, but..." The sudden voice broke her from her obvious gawping at the city around her, and she turned to look at where she was going. The portal was set into a high stone wall, as beautiful in its construction as the rest of the city had been thusfar. And, at this gate, several armed guards stood at their ease in the shadows of the portal itself, while one had disembarked from his rest to challenge her. The man wore well-made leather and chain, and while not first quality it was certainly better than many adventurers wore. The seal of Elbion was emblazoned on crest pinned to his chest.

He was looking at her expectantly, and she stared back at him blankly with a a friendly and open grin on her face, not entirely sure what to do. Clearly the man wanted something, but Maranae had no understanding of what that might be.

"...your identification, miss?" He was looking at her as if trying to understand what it was he was looking at. She wore clothes to match a beggar - woolens torn and showing a nearly indecent amount of skin, with trousers to match. The whole ensemble was stained and threadbare, showing all of the hard wear it had seen. Most notable, however, was the lack of an amulet granting her access to this part of the city.

Maranae cocked her head to one side, and offered a tentative smile. "What....is identi...identification," she began, struggling with the word the man had used. She had no idea what it meant. "Mara does not know that word," she added. She sounded a touch contrite, and a touch curious as well.

The guard seemed truly baffled. Rowdy drunks, he could deal with. Petty thieves and burglars, that was not a particular concern of his. Creatures summoned by some of the more...enthusiastic students, while perhaps a different order of magnitude more difficult to deal with, were not precisely rare here, in this city. But a young lady with the look of a beggar, speaking like a child or, failing that, so simple as to not understand something so basic... He felt he should be embarrassed.

"You need one of these to enter here, miss," he said as he held up an amulet that he just so happened to have. He was, after all, a resident of the city himself by necessity of his job. Mara looked at the gleaming medallion, and reached for it out of curiosity. The guard snatched it back out of her reach. "They do not want beggars or ne'er-do-well's in amongst the good people of the city, do you understand?"

She shook her head. "Is Mara a beggar?" The question was not asked of the guard, but more to herself, aloud. "Mara does no think so. Can she have....shiny thing?" She was pointing at the thing in the man's hand, and he shook his head.

"Go away," he said, finally. The timbre of his voice was still not unkind, but it was clear he was coming to certain conclusions in his head regarding the young lady before him. Clearly, she could not really be that simple. It had to be an act, to make him lower his guard. Yeah, that was what it was. "You can find a place to stay down in the Port district. Do not come this way again unless you have the proper pass to continue on." She stood there, looking at him with such an innocent look that he had to shake his head, muttering under his breath. He turned her around, speeding her along with a shove to the back. "Get on with you," she said, and then returned to his post.

Port district? More words she did not know. This place was one of confusion, with too many things she did not understand. The wilderness had been much more simple, easier for her to understand than this place was.

She moved back down the street, unsure what exactly she was supposed to do, now.

 

[Edmund Adelard]

It had been nearly a month since Edmund had completed his last job and the money in his pocket was getting lighter each day. He'd been staying at a humble inn in the port district of Elbion for at least half a year and had grown fond of the atmosphere of the place.

He was sitting on the porch of the inn at one of the tables with a tankard of mead and a trusted companion. Gurias was a strange man. The lavender-skinned komodi travelled the seas to advertise his craft. Edmund had bought of few of his glass bead necklaces out of sheer wonder; he'd never been one to indulge in materialistic items. The two of them were an unlikely pair, but Edmund was struck with delight to see his stand set up at the docks that morning.

The two of them took a unison swig of their mead and sighed as they set it down. The sun was setting but the town stayed busy. Edmund enjoyed watching the college folk bumble about with conversation too intelligent for his knightly mind. He enjoyed the sound of children's joyous laughter as they played a foreign game in the streets. He enjoyed the lingering feeling of safety, of security, of home.

Edmund didn't think he'd be able to feel those things again. And he knew they were only fleeting.

"You wouldn't happen to need any work done, would you?" he asked his companion while fingering the hem of his new coat.

His armor sat untouched on the floor on his room in the inn as it hadn't been worn in some time. Edmund savored the feeling of having a literal weight taken off his shoulders.

Gurias stared out at the crowd, "I don't. You know I prefer travelling alone. As much as I'd love to have you alongside me I-"

"Must do this yourself," Edmund had heard him say it too many times, "There's no need to repeat yourself."

For as long as he'd known the bizarre komodi, Edmund still couldn't quite understand him. He seemed to speak in riddles and always addressed an unseen presence. He wasn't sure how he came to be fond of him.

Gurias chuckled and took a sip of his mead, "I did overhear the woman in the stall next to me complain about how treacherous her journey to retrieve groceries from the market would be. Perhaps she would accept your assistance."

Edmund nodded, "Perhaps."

As much as he enjoyed helping the people of Elbion, he was desperate to pick up his sword again, not that he would willingly admit it. He was as knight. He'd trained his whole life for one thing and one thing only: to fight. What he chose to swing his sword for was entirely up to him, but his strengths laid in battle. He hadn't seen one in what seemed like decades.

A comfortable life wasn't suitable for him.

Before he could decide to turn in for the night, an extraordinarily tall woman with raging red hair caught his eye. She looked confused, but the only reason Edmund could make out her emotions was because her head poked out above the entire crowd.

The woman was beyond beautiful and her tattered, worn clothes only served to emphasize the waviness of her hair and the rosy tint gracing over her cheeks. To say Edmund found her interesting was a blatant understatement.

"Gurias?" he asked, lifting his head to get a better view, "Who is that woman?"

The komodi observed Edmund's source of intrigue and shrugged, "I've never seen her before."

Edmund chugged the last of his drink and tried to take his mind off of her, but her crystalline eyes kept wandering through in his mind.

 

[Kara Orin]

With the day just about over, Kara began her journey back to the College from the Port District. She carried a basket of baked biscuits – a gift that her doting mother made for Kara’s visit of the trading post her father worked at.

While the Port District could be rowdy, Kara remained unbothered due both: being a frequent visitor, and the cloak she wore. She bore the symbol of the College of Elbion upon the back of her cloak. Few people would want a college full of mages to hunt them down in retribution for robbing or killing a student.

Kara paused once when she passed by the Surly Nugg Inn that Edmund Adelard drank at. The wandering Maranae caught her eye. Maranae’s clothes fit a beggar, yet her looks suggested a well-off upbringing.

Yet Kara’s interest quickly faded – such a thing was not unknown or unusual in a town as large as Elbion. She continued her trek – looking to pass by Maranae with her residential amulet swaying with each step.

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

The door slammed open, assisted by Traecon's foot and the accompanying body flying out of it. The man himself stepped out, silvery eyes gleaming in amusement, anger, and challenge all in one, cracking his left hand's knuckles in anticipation.

"Trying to steal my hard-earned money, and not take it through a fistfight. Tis a fine shame indeed!"

The poor thief was scrambling to his feet, hands up in a bastardly stance to brawl. It looked almost pathetic to the onlookers.

Traecon relished the poor challenge anyway. He had heard tales of such thievery happening to other folk - indeed, he had entered some bars and left feeling much lighter on the pouch than expected - and caught this one red-handed as he was arm-wrestling another chap for the dinner tab. Shame, he was close to winning it too.

The thief, seeing the hooded man take his time, gazing with those silver eyes, gave a yell and charged, fist coming up in a broad right cross. He moved rather fast for one his size, at least half a head higher than Traecon himself. The fist barely came an inch to Traecon's face before he stepped to the side, foot held out. The momentum too much, the would-be thief stumbled over the extended foot, worsened as Traecon twisted with a well-timed kick, sending the man flying back into the inn.

"Consider him my payment for both dinner and damage! Also here!"

He tossed the bag that the thief had been carrying on his person, filled with part of his own share, into the inn. "That's for everything else!" he called, chuckling. Stretching his limbs, he breathed out long and hard. Another fine day to begin! Even if he had overslept slightly.

Relaxing in his posture, he tightened the bindings on his right arm, the clothing nearly undone and exposing part of the silvery plating beneath. He almost missed the head of fiery hair above the crowd whilst wrapping up the limb. It was hard not to however, seeing as she was practically towering over the masses. 'Curious.'

 

[Maranae]

She moved through the streets like the predator she was, hips swaying enticingly even if absolutely every other aspect of this woman cried out warning against intrusion. She had an air of anger about her, and why shouldn't she? This hunt should have been over a month ago, in the streets of some forgotten village out in the middle of nowhere.

Her name was Vanessa the Ruthless, and she was a bounty hunter. She was of average height, with flaxen hair braided into a rope that fell across her back and bounced on her rump as she walked, brown eyes surveying everything around her with practiced ease. A livid scar stood out on her cheek, just below her left eye - a parting gift from Talon, that cheating bastard. Another scar delivered from that man, although it would be his last.

She wore a narrow sword belted at her hip, with which she was intimately familiar with. Her skill with that weapon was such that she was still alive, after a decade of bounty hunting. Beasts, men, it made little difference to her.

Which was why this one particular bounty was so....vexing. The beast she sought had the semblance of humanity, but her employers had informed her that it was not. In no way was the red-headed beast to be regarded as human.

Not given to much in the way of fear, Vanessa still shuddered with unease. The memory of Drake, falling back and clutching at an arm nearly bitten in two, screaming is black spread from the wound slowly... It was a horrible way to die, whatever poison this vile creature carried in its deadly bite. She was determined to see the threat ended. It needed to be, too, for the beast was now in one of Arethil's greatest cities. Small blessing though it might be, at least the place was filled to overflowing with magicians. If things got out of hand...

...well, that couldn't be allowed to happen. She had followed the creature over a thousand leagues of wilderness, all in the name of a rather hefty sum of money. She wasn't about to let some wand-waver steal her early retirement from her.

----

The scents of this place were nearly overwhelming to her.

Thousands upon thousands of people living together in close proximity, no matter how clean a place was kept, created a cocktail of odors that were enough to stun a mind not used to dealing with them. In fact, the young woman could not really understand how any of these people could stand it. The scent of rotting refuse, the smell of unwashed bodies, of sewers and chamber pots all mingled with perfumes and baking pies and bread, and meat roasting over fires.

And the place was enormous. Far beyond anything she could have ever imagined in her wildest of dreams. Every so often, she found herself stopping and looking at the buildings and the multitude of people of all caste and creed moving through the streets.

She was used to the quiet of the forest and the plains, where her only company were the wild things. And they tended to stay away from her, for whatever reason. Solitude had been the majority of her existence.

And now this.

"What...does Mara do," she said in a small voice to herself, looking around as elves and dwarves, orcs and humans moved along the streets, going about their business. For the first time in her short life, she had a sense of not belonging, of being an other. Not fitting in, beyond the inability to understand anything she was seeing.

She stood in the middle of the street while people moved around her, some maybe giving her a dirty look for blocking their way. A flash of the golden light of the sun on some object caught her attention, and she turned to see a dark haired woman moving through the crowd, heading back the way she herself had come. The cloak she wore bore some sigil on the back of it, but the marking meant nothing to the red head. It was the pretty bauble that had her attention; it was the first she had seen since she had been shown the one by the man holding the gate to a different part of the city.

She had nowhere to go, and no guiding hand in her life in any case. Face brightening, smile on her lips, she approached the woman, who was continuing on her way. "Wait, cloak-lady!" she said as she made her way through the sparse crowd. "Mara wants one of the shiny things! Wait!"

 

[Kara Orin]

The commotion that Traecon Maxwell caused at the Surly Nugg Inn caught Kara’s passing attention. Another situation that happens occasionally at the Port District. Kara was about to move along until Maranae called out to her.

With a raised eyebrow, Kara turned to Mara. Kara looked at the girl from head to toe.

“You wh-“ Kara began, “Oh.”

Kara’s face returned to a neutral, blank look. She grabbed her residential amulet with her free hand and stuffed it down her shirt – removing it from sight.

Then, Kara then plucked a biscuit from her basket and gently tossed it up to Mara. She then silently turned away from Mara in an attempt to walk away.

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

Glancing at the woman's approach to the cloaked one, Traecon found himself quirking a curiouser eyebrow at the red-headed one's actions and words. He expected her approach to be less... childish than the current display.

Well, well! Another sight to learn from! Only, it was a lesson he should have taken to heart by now; appearances could be oft deceiving. He had encountered countless others whom had similar dispositions, and infinitely more hostile than the current display he was watching right now. He saw the bauble...thing swept underneath the other woman's robes, and as she turned to walk away, saw a familiar symbol on her cloak.

"I do hear rumors of a college that practices magics..." he muttered, still tightening his bindings. However, he was unaware as to how much.

Riiiip!

"Bullsh - shiver me timbers!" He hastily corrected. There could be children around! He was grateful only the cloth around the hand had torn, not the whole arm itself. Still, its silvery gleam was not gone unnoticed by passerbys, and while he was all for attention, the kind his arm often brought ensured he would walk away bloodied more often than not. "Bloody..." he grumbled, fixing it up as best he could. The wrappings still showed parts of the silvery appendages, but it manage to cover up most of the hand. So far so good.

But then he felt it. It was no gaze, but a presence. Familiar in intensity, but it was a sort he had only sensed from forest predators and people out for his head/arm. He had been hunted before, against any crook or hunter out for coin and his blood, or had the luck to see his little secret. Quickly finishing the patch job, he wrenched his gaze from the duo, making himself scarce and heading back to the inn, leaning against the wall next to the door, before gazing at the red-haired stranger and the cloaked one again. Hopefully he would get a glimpse of the predatory source.

And run like hell, or challenge it. Either was appealing.

 

[Edmund Adelard]

The woman seemed to be particularly interested in another woman's amulet of residency. It was clear that the owner of said pendant was unamused as she immediately turned away from her.

"Gurias," Edmund said, tilting his head toward his friend, "Give me your residential amulet."

He held his hand out as the komodi huffed and said, "Why don't you get your own. You practically live here."

"Just give it to me," it was strange how comfortable Edmund had become with him as the other man placed his amulet in the knight's hand.

Edmund let his fingers curl over the cool metal before pushing up out of his seat to approach the woman. On his way up, he noticed a stranger leaned against the wall of the inn. He was violently searching for something, or rather, someone, in the crowd. Edmund squinted at him, but brushed it off before going out to meet the woman who'd peaked his interest.

Once he stood behind her, he reached up to tap her on the shoulder. She was even taller in person and as someone who'd usually been the tallest in the crowd, he felt slightly threatened.

"Excuse me, miss, but I couldn't help but overhear your interest in a residential amulet."

Edmund held out Gurias' amulet, the shine catching in the slowly dimming sunlight.

"I happen to have one with me."

 

[Maranae]

She snatched the treat out of the airvwuth lightning reflexes, not knowing what it was or even why the lady would throw it to her. Or at her. Her open and honest smile seemed to make no impression on the woman, who immediately turned away. Maranae was distracted, just as Kara had intended.

She held the cookie up and sniffed delicately at it. Butter, milk, egg, and something sweet were all blended I to the thing. It was a miracle that she had not crushed it in her grip when she caught it; she did not know her own strength, though others had remarked upon it before.

A moment, standing in the street looking at the thing as if it were some prize, tongue extended to taste it...

...and then she realized the lady was leaving her behind. She needed one of those shiny things to keep going onwards, so the hard-skinned man had said. She did not know what was special about the shiny things, but if she needed to have one, then surely the cloaked lady would know where.

She started forward, and made it but a step before a hand touched her from behind. Mara spun with a squeak, the determined smile of a moment before a little sickly now.

Had she had fangs before? Certainly, those long upper canines had not been there when she had spoken to the cloaked lady...

The man whom the hand belonged to was surprisingly tall. She had grown used to being taller than most humans, and being if a height to look him in the eyes with her brilliant jade orbs was a surprise, and a pleasant one.

"A...resi... a shiny amuket?" She tripped over the big word, not understanding what it meant, let alone being able to pronounce it. "Little man with hard skin said Mara must have one if the shiny amulets to enter the resi...den...to go past," she said, finishing awkwardly. "Scar-face man will let Mara have the shiny thing?"

She sounded so...childish. Either she was not right in the head, or there was something else at play here.

She did not see the flaxen haired huntress quickening her pace, heading straight for her.

---

It was unreal to her.

The monster was right there, out in the pure light of day, out where anyone could see her. It. Whatever. Vanessa knew the truth of that beast, knew what it was capable of. Had watched it kill her lover right before her with its deadly bite. Those screams would haunt her the rest of her days.

A fitting retirement, then, the sack of coin bringing back this beasts' severed head to Vel Anir would yield. This time, there was neither Nordenfiir nor that hateful cheat to stand in her way. She could be the hero of the hour, saving the city from a blood-drenched massacre at the hands - paws - of base beasts.

She dropped a hand to the slender blade at her hip, readying her mind for the rituals that would be needed to protect herself from the beast. Striding forward, hips swaying in a feline, predatory stalk, she bared an inch of magicked steel, freshly acquired, and advanced on her prey.

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

He paused in his search to observe the fellow trying for the stranger's attention, the cloaked one mixing into the crowd like a fish in a flock. Or a bee in a hive....

Err... nevermind.

Anyway, he caught the glint of a silvery metal in the grip of the man's hand, striding towards the woman who now had a... a biscuit? Oh! He hadn't the pleasure of having such a snack while here! He heard it tasted absolutely delightful! And if you visited the correct bakery, would give you treats that were seemingly made of iron! He saw a man break a tooth trying to gnaw a piece off on such snack. He wondered if the treat in the red-haired one's grip had a similar hardiness.

Ahem, he was digressing again.

And with that predatory presence drawing nearer and nearer... well, he supposed a distraction or two would help calm him down. He continued watching the two interact, checking his own sword - a slightly chipped steel stick he bought with most of his pay. He hoped it could stand a good duel. He might have need of it soon enough.

He had to squint and lean an ear to tune in on the conversation - at least the Inn was close enough to overhear a word or two over the bustling crowd.

"An amulet... the trinkets one needs to get past the guard...? And scar-face man?" He mumbled, musing over what he heard.

That kindly gentlemen looked perfectly unmarred from his angle! Wait, that was the back of his head. Still, those locks were quite a lovely sight, much better than his dead gray ones. The desert sun burned all color off them years ago.

But then from behind the red-haired one (also gorgeous curls of crimson, that one) came that horrid, horrid shade of yell - wait, that again. The presence was more intense than ever, the predator was speeding up slowly, but steadily, for the kill. But where in the world was it?

He stepped out into the crowd, unable to simply stand by. There would be a bloodbath and he would see it!

And knock the instigator out cold for trying it. Causing trouble in public? Such gall!

But as he closed the distance between the man and woman, getting a closer look at the one behind the two, he nearly slapped himself in realization. That gait, that near-prowling of motion. And the unsheathed sword? Well, not entirely, but enough so he could see its steely edge.

Bingo.

He settled for pinching his nose. Curse his eyesight, he should stop staring into the morning sun everyday! It may be a wonderful wake-up call, but never had it cursed his sight so much he could not make out a huntress at that range!

Blimley! Smack!

He had to. It sounded idiotic. So was the slap on his forehead, but he'd say he deserved it. He strode forward, closing the distance quickly.

"You there, with the half-drawn sword! Come hither and sate your bloodlust with mine own blade!"

He would see what this one would have to offer in the arts of the sword. And mayhaps expression. He had yet to sharpen his tongue of its due use today. He would rectify that as well. His silvery right hand, still somewhat sparkling in the light, gripped the handle in reverse, sliding an inch of tempered steel from its sheath on his right.

 

[Kara Orin]

When Edmund Adelard spoke to Maranae about having a residential amulet, Kara continued to move along. There was a silent appreciation for Edmund’s further distraction of Mara.

Vanessa’s approach toward Mara seemed to go unnoticed by Kara. She took a biscuit from her basket and took a bite. It was just soft enough – just a usual for her mother’s creation.

Then, Kara heard Traecon Maxwell’s call for a fight. Kara paused and looked back as she continued to take bites from her biscuit. Her eyes fell upon the tanned Traecon. She then glanced over to a nearby shop’s sign and began to quickly finish the biscuit she had started on.

While not acting just yet, Kara turned her body to keep an eye on Traecon.

Maranae Edmund Adelard Traecon Maxwell

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

He passed the red-headed one and her conversing partner with a stride that bordered on beastial, intent on meeting the woman in combat. His blood began to thrum, his eyesight pulse as the rush quickened in his mind. A familiar heat haze rose in his mind, and his mouth was locked and loaded to fire whatever came to his mind at the moment of crossing. It wasn't anything pleasant, that was for sure.

His hood fell back, the force of his steps and the wind throwing the cloth, and his mercurial silver eyes gleamed fiercely, dead gray hair flowing in the wind in a wild shaking. The blade was unsheathed in full, and with a flourish, he moved it to his other arm, right one up to defend against her strikes. He had yet to find a weapon to pierce the cast's silvery form, though it hurt as much as it would a flesh-blood arm. Bugger!

The crowd, seeing the sudden flash of sharp steel, would hurridly part around him with expressions of fear, annoyance, and panic in equal amounts. The guards would be summoned if he were to become any more of a nuisance, and while acknowledging that, his eyes were on the opponent. Positioning himself to defend against her possible opening strike, he called out another challenge.

"Many have come looking for my head for coin, Huntress! Have you the same greed for mine blood and coin?"

Maranae Edmund Adelard Kara Orin

 

[Edmund Adelard]

The silver haired man moved through the crowd with clear intentions. It threw Edmund off. Head whipping around to face the direction the man was headed in, he noticed that it was the same man he saw leaning against the inn. He must have been watching them from a distance.

There must be something particular about the red haired woman, Edmund thought, if she was such a central focus of attention.

Tucking the residential amulet in his grip, his eyes met those of his Komodi companion, who immediately came to join him in the streets, lighting bowing at the the red woman in politeness. Gurias kept his hand on his sheathed sword and formed a stout barricade in front of the woman, protecting her from the unseen huntress.

Edmund snuck the amulet back into Gurais' pocket and readied himself with a defensive stance. He really should have brought his sword with him. He didn't think he would be needing it so abruptly.

Yet the thought excited him.

 

[Maranae]

The straw-haired woman slowed as some man came to stand in front of her, challenging her in defiance. Vanessa simply looked at him with a blank face, features unreadable. She quickly took in all of the oddities about him, and then scowled, and spit to the side.

"You?" she stated in a flat voice. Well, perhaps not entirely flat; there was a great deal of derision there, too. "Small fry. Not worth my time. Get out of my way, you stand between me and something more dangerous than you know."

Her voice had risen in volume at the end, and her eyes had slipped past to look at the tall redhead. Maranae, for her part, had watched as the man with another of the shiny object - the residential amulet - turned to face someone else in the street. She turned to look on with interest, jaw still gaping from the komodi of which she was unfamiliar with. The cheerful, open smile on her face slipped.

It was the lady from before. The one that had tried to kill Valthar, and had hurt her. Valthar was one of the only ones who had not hurt her, but this woman here had stabbed her with her...her sword? She gave a startled squeak at seeing her, and immediately took flight. There was no standing and fighting for her; she hated fighting, she hated bloodshed.

The trouble was, there were few places to go. Too many people, and so she bolted for a building at the side - a place with people in it as well, pelting past and pushing people aside in her haste.

Vanessa hissed in frustration as two more showed their faces. "You fools. Damned fools." The beast had been well made, the huntress had to admit. Certainly seemed to draw protection from males left and right. "That beast is going to kill more people if it is not stopped. Stand aside!" She moved to go forward, blade still sheathed.

Edmund Adelard Traecon Maxwell Kara Orin

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

"Aye, I be small compared to some, but compared to ye? With a steel stick like that? Finding it hard to buy that statement when clearly you are the one with such intent to kill."

Traecon's blood still boiling for a fight, he flourished the steel sword, not budging from his position. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the red-haired one's expression turn to fright and recognition, fleeing into a nearby building away. Either she actually recognized this huntress or he put on too much of a show.

Probably the latter. He recalled being chased out of villages for less dramatics than this.

He saw the earlier man and his... dragon/lizard/man/thing (he made a note to study up on the races of this world later) stand in front of the fleeing woman. My my, he wondered what drew people like those to her. Inner charm perhaps? A charisma? Then again, he himself could be argued to be drawn to her, through fighting this huntress that evidently came for someone. Bah, he didn't think too deep upon it.

The warning/insult was also heard clearly. "Beast? When you are the one with such intent to kill? Better do these townsfolk a favor and put you down then, like the animal you are."

From what openings could be found in the bound silver arm, it glowed faintly, the runes upon its metal sensing its wielder's focus. Should the huntress engage, she would find his one-armed defense sturdier than she would expect. It would still hurt like a sword through his arm, but the limb itself would be untouched.

 

[Kara Orin]

Kara continued to watch the situation devolve with a mouth full of biscuit. Traecon drew her eyes’ attention for the most part – with him brandishing a sword in public and all. They missed Edmund slipping the amulet back to Gurias – or that Gurias even joined the assembly.

Mara got a quick glance as she ran away. Yet, Vanessa stole Kara’s focus at the mention that Mara might be a dangerous beast. This was not a common claim to just hear on the streets. After hearing that, Kara approached the group.

Just as Traecon gave his latest taunt, Kara interrupted with, “Halt!”

Though she was no guard, Kara took her free hand to swing her cloak around for a moment. The College of Elbion’s symbol embroidered on her cloak was flashed before Traecon, Edmund, Gurias, and Vanessa.

Looking to Vanessa, Kara asked, “Explain, what kind of beast? Werewolf?”

Traecon Maxwell Edmund Adelard Maranae

 

[Maranae]

The huntress scowled, the action pulling at the livid scar beneath her eye in a rather unflattering way. It was likely a good thing that she was not vain in and of herself, for the encounters of the last weeks had left their indelible mark upon her.

She was getting ready to deliver a scathing rebuttal when another woman walked up on them, flashing a cloak bearing the mark of the college. Vanessa looked at Kara with cold eyes, then shifted them to look at all the people who had arranged themselves against her without knowing anything about who they were defending. Fools. All fools. At least the magi - for that must be what she was - was less a fool than the rest.

By a long way.

"I do not know, sorceress," she replied in flat tones. She let the blade slide back into its sheath. She had no desire to draw it upon people that had nothing to do with what she was about, even if one of them apparently had a bounty on his head as well. She had been hired for one job, and that did not include killing bystanders, however idiotic their interference was.

Holding one hand out to one side, palm down in a gesture of peace, she reached into the front of her shirt with the other, drawing out a small leather purse suspended between her breasts. She drew it open and withdrew a folded piece of paper, unfolding it carefully.

She handed it to Kara.

"This is a writ from His Lordship Eisen Grey of Vel Anir, detailing the subject." She eyed the other even more coldly, and spat to one side. "The beast is some kind of escaped experiment that was conducted unlawfully in Vel Anir territory. The creature has killed three or four dozen people already. Hard to tell, as mangled as the corpses were."

She looked to the direction that the monster had gone in, eyes hard. "I do not pretend to understand what they have done to it, but its bite is as poisonous as a snakes and ten times as deadly, and it is unprecedentedly strong. Can shapeshift as well, into feral beasts." She turned those cold eyes on Traecon, the accusation clear in them. "If she kills more people because of you, then I will take a personal interest in the supposed bounty on your head as well."

Again to the College woman. "Can you help?"

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

He did not withdraw even as the cloaked one reappeared before them, but reconsidered his options when he saw the emblem. His hunch was right. A college of magics, and he nearly skewered a poor magi from that faction with his metal stick. Even through the hot-headedness of his rush, he calmed down, if only just. Resheathing his sword with a look that suited a six-year old child than the man he was, he stepped back once, as she seemed more in control - and interested in the huntress' words than he. And also the pouch that came out of her... compartment. Not the compartment itself. Nope.

What kind of devilish magics did women possess indeed, to store things in such places? (You blithering, bloody fool!)

Then as he overheard their words, did his interest actively take root. Recalling the red-haired one's expression of half-shock and recognition, he had dots making up a picture. He would like to draw the lines, but the huntress' icy gaze did not seem forgiving. Still, he would at least try to make up for his earlier interruption. The blood rush had finally cooled down to a simple thrum, letting his rationality and not-so-sharp tongue now have full reign.

And what if said interruption caused more untold deaths? He would not lose sleep over it, and definitely not over her words. He was not the one dying, after all.

"I do apologize for my earlier... showboating."

He bowed slightly, but his silvery eyes yet gleamed, unfazed by the woman's own cold eyes. Not breaking contact, he pointed towards the building where the red-haired one was last seen. "But from what I saw from earlier observations, she seemed more child than beast, younger in mind that what her form would suggest. And if she is what your description entails, surely we would all be fighting for our lives right now, are we not?"

He took her threat against his life and bounty in stride, having faced worse. Fewer things were as terrifying as having a black, armored juggernaut come roaring on him with an axe his height, or a mage that wielded all the cold fury of the bloody Tundra. She would be a fierce blade, he noted, but one he would survive in any scenario. Maybe.

If that damned compartment wasn't so curiously distracting... (Twice-damned hot-blooded fool!)

 

[Kara Orin]

Vanessa claimed that she did not know what kind of beast Maranae was. As soon as Kara heard this, her eyes shifted downward to the ground. Any expression in her face vanished.

When Vanessa handed the paper to Kara, she reached out to it as her eyes slowly lifted back up. A sigh escaped Kara’s lips she grabbed the paper and began to read.

Then as Kara read the paper and Vanessa began her explanation, Kara’s expression slowly shifted. Her eyes widened. Her grips on the paper tightened as she read every word – to the point that her hand shook slightly. She clenched her jaw. She committed as much as she could about the letter to memory.

Kara finally looked up as Traecon expressed his doubts about Vanessa’s claims. She took a deep breath in. Her face relaxed once more to her neutral look. She handed the paper back.

“Anyone can act a part,” Kara said as she glanced to Traecon.

Then looking back to Vanessa, Kara told her, “I will help, on the condition that you prove the writ’s claim about the red head.”

Maranae Traecon Maxwell Edmund Adelard

 

[Maranae]

Vanessa's pretty face (minus the scar, anyway) became an ugly mask of anger at Kara's words. "You doubt my word?" she asked coldly. It took iron control to keep from crumpling that paper up and throwing it in the other woman's face in anger. "The bitch-thing killed my fiance," she snarled. "Is that enough proof?"

Her teeth clenched, the bounty hunter closed her eyes, letting her hands ball themselves into fists until the knuckles went white. She took several deep, calming breaths, refusing to speak another word until she had control of her emotions. There was so much anger to be had, then, and she did not need to lash out at people who had nothing to do with it.

They withhold my quary from me! But that was not a good enough reason to out sword and carve a bloody path forward. She herself was no base animal, and would not give in to such urges.

She snapped her head the the hot-headed man that had stood in her way, still practicing her calming techniques as she did so. "Think nothing of it," she said in a dead voice. "It is of no importance to me," she lied. She had to do that a lot in order to appease civilized people. She was not a civilized lady.

She then faced Kara, face a mask, inner turmoil held in check, effectively leashed. For now. "Perhaps we should catch the she-beast and ascertain the truth of my words." Cold. So terribly cold.

---

Maranae ran, thoughts whirling through her head as she pushed through people with ease. When she wanted to go somewhere, generally, she went there. The strength in her slight frame was remarkable for more than the slight frame; she was inhumanly strong.

The bad lady had come here. She had followed Maranae across a thousand leagues of wilderness, not that Mara had been specifically running from the Bad Lady, persay. So many seemed to be chasing the redhead, though, and she could hardly understand why. So few of them were like Valthar had been, kind and gentle souls. Most were like the Bad Lady and the people in the Bad Place.

She found herself longing for a time she could not remember. Only the faintest traces of those memories still existed within her soul, and they were fragmented to the point of being completely incomprehensible. Only the idea of safety and warmth, of belonging and perhaps understanding.

Not being chased constantly. Not being hurt constantly. Every now and again, the chimera cried herself to sleep for the cruelty of the world. But her thoughts and feelings were fleeting things, whic hwas a blessing by itself. As she grew older, though, they became more...permanent.

She pelted through a shop, and into an alleyway, bare feet slapping on stone.

Traecon Maxwell Kara Orin Edmund Adelard

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

Traecon would test his mettle today, by hook, crook, or the talons of this she-beast the huntress seemed to hate with such vitrol. The chain of events all but assured this result would come. He would had settled for the woman herself in the first place, but as her hate-filled words were spat out, every hidden tone a curse towards her target, he took in her eyes and changed his mind. Those eyes were not the typical hateful ones he found in his own simple fights. He knew the utter fixation in them, the coldness and the anger.

He had the same outlook on life and his foe when he used that silver blade. Those folk didn't tend to leave in one piece, in both body and soul. He would not unveil that sword unless he fought to kill. And this woman, he would not slay with the same coldness he could feel from her gaze.

In the end, Traecon would not deny the woman her hunt, but still, the red-haired one seemed far too innocent to be the she-beast whom killed this woman's fiance. The image did not seem to mix. He glanced back to the supposed monster's trail, and started after, breaking into a quick sprint.

"Then let us cast the supposed veil off your quarry's face, and see if your words ring true. Let action decide what words cannot. Now PISS OFF!" He roared the last part as he slammed through the shop's door, absent-mindedly tossing his second-last bag of gold at the shopkeeper. Let the old woman do what she must with the coin. The hunt was on.

Golly, the blood rush was coming back stronger than he thought. But then he caught a glimpse of red as he passed an alleyway, he yelled out.

"Stop right there!"

Only to double his speed as the glimpse vanished faster than expected. He was beginning to believe her words slightly. That was faster that expected for one of her frame. He looked back, seeing the four people behind him.

"Come on then!"

Kara Orin Edmund Adelard Maranae

 

[Kara Orin]

Both of Kara’s eyebrows lifted slightly as Vanessa became visibly angry. Yet once Vanessa mentioned the death of her fiancé, Kara’s eyebrows furrowed with a slight frown. She maintained eye contact with Vanessa during her outburst.

Once Vanessa voiced an apparent agreement to Kara’s proposal, Kara responded with, “We should.”

And in no time, Traecon gave chase. Kara just blinked twice – again raising her brows as her eyes widened. She turned to Vanessa just once before she began to follow Traecon. Kara would keep her pace up only as much as she would need to trail the silver knight. She did not yet draw a weapon or cast a spell.

Traecon Maxwell Maranae

 

[Shela]

She nodded curtly to the cloaked woman. There were no wasted words here. Just a task that needed to be finished. It was frightening how little there was inside her but the seething rage born of a denied future.


She moved purposefully, but much like a predator in tall grass. Hips swaying, eyes scanning every face, darting to keep an eye everywhere at once. She did not like cities, for there were too many potential threats. So many, often, that it was next to impossible to keep track of them all.

It was easy to follow the brash man as he worked his way through the crowded room like a hit knife through butter, people tossed aside in his wake. Vanessa had no time for these people; they were merely bystanders and in her eyes completely unimportant, useless.

"You know this city well." It was not a question, but a hard statement delivered in hard tones. "There must be a way to circle round."

What she thought was simple. The beast was being driven by one very visible chaser, and it would be simple enough to cut them off get in front and force a confrontation. Bring it to an end for real, this time.

She explained this in much fewer words to the nameless student, all the while strolling the hilt of her sword as she moved, casting through her mind and letting the delightful fight play out as was the way of people daydreaming their deepest desires.

 

[Maranae]

Running was always better than the alternative.

She was simple at heart. Beyond the moments of birth which were, admittedly, not what one would think, she had a nearly flawless memory. And some of those memories were buried as deeply as they could be. Unfortunately, they leaked past the seals and vault doors she had erected in her mind, bleeding over as she slept. Fragments of them spinning through her waking mind.

Blood, death, and madness. Frantic images, one stop the other, of flesh being torn, bones breaking, and the sting of hurts being done to her.

She did not like the dark thing at the core of her soul, the thing that acted on instinct and without any involvement of the conscious mind. It was born of animalistic needs and desires, many of which she found absolutely terrifying.

And the worst thing was that if the beast reared its ugly head, she would find all the things that were her subsumed.

And she railed against it.

She broke free of the alley and out into a wide street, thronged with people, turned and darted with a surprising turn of speed downhill.

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

By the boiling summer sun, this lady was more beast than human! He was hard-pressed to even catch a glimpse of her red hair as he dove through the crowd, eyes focused on what trails of red he could find. More wrecking ball than man, he charged down a few unfortunates in his path as he gave furious chase, less focused on yelling in warning and more on actually getting into range of her hearing, or so he hoped. His sword remained sheathed at his side, and instead he kept one flesh and blood hand on a long dagger he kept on his belt.

"The huntress didn't lie about her physical capabilities at least..."

His legs were already twinging with trace bits of strain at his current speed. Pushing any harder would probably pull something down there. He hoped it wasn't the pants. Turning at the huntress, he barked out directions for her to use. He had traveled around the finer points of this town. He knew the downhill road outside the alley.

"Huntress, take the straight road ahead of this alley whilst I continue the chase. Follow the beaten path and it will lead to an intersection. The downhill road leads there with no pathways inbetween!"

He burst out the alleyway, and unfortunately missed the red hair this time, hidden in the crowds. But the sounds he heard were proof enough; she had taken the downhill route. Turning, he was to give chase, when he glimpsed a plank laying unattended on a nearby stall, and had an idea.

"Hold there fair maiden. I merely wish to haaAAAAAA - "

On second thought, sliding down the road using the piece of wood as transportation was a very bad idea. It did wonders for his speed, as the slope and wetness of the ground enabled him to close the distance between him and her enough to say the above lines, but her hair was a devious little thing, flailing in his face like a raving kitten. He nearly lost his balance on the slippery thing, cutting his own words short in panic.

Maranae Vanessa Edmund Adelard