Round 2 Team 7

[Silence Sei]

The team is Lloyd and Philomel. Round starts at Midnight tonight, CST, and lasts for two weeks. Good luck!

[Philomel]

Being there in the cold and drizzling rain of a forest is not in the slightest enthralling. Waking up is even worse.

Philomel blinked open her eyes as the first cold drops began to splatter over her skin. Single drops of sudden frigid splash slid down her brazen cheeks, and caused her to gasp in shock. Sitting straight up, she gazed around her, staring at her surroundings with an emotion close to horror.

“Bloody rain!” she spluttered breathily, quickly taking in the view. She saw tall trunks, broken branches, the corners of crimson leaves. They were sparse, more sparse than what she remembered, and beyond one lower twig she spied the angular form of a canvas tent.

You are awake!

Her beloved burst in on the scene, all russet orange and bright eyes, his brush tail wagging like a dog’s. Launching himself from the ground he moved onto her lap and without ceremony or warning placed forepaws on her breast. His long pink tongue began to eagerly lap her face with the slobbers of a mastiff.

“Get off,” she tried to push at his small body, but her muscles were not quite responding to her commands yet. The biting cold air still nipped at her arms, and rain still fell, but it was not enough to bother her more than the fox desiring her attention. He fully took advantage of the fact she had only just gained consciousness, and licked over her lips.

“Gaahhhh!” she yelped.

This time with her shove he slipped off her lap.

However, Veridian still wriggled with sheer delight around her as unsteadily the faun gained to her hooves. It was her sword that came to her aid, for she found it lying right beside her and used it something as a crutch.

How did we get here? she asked the earth-spirit, her familiar, into his mind as he danced. From the sight of the canvas tent it was obvious they were at the edge of the main camp where all the adventurers met. All those who, for their own reasons, desired to help attempt to defeat the Red Witch, Pode. Weren’t we with the soul-eater plant?

Yes, yes, the enthuiastic fox said, But when the others of our group, Ettermire and the girl and the dark elf, came back and Maverik saw you weren’t with them, she amounted a rescue party of some of the crew and they came and got us as I was waking up. We brought you back here and now you are awake and yes, yes!

Uneasily Philomel looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, why the happiness?” she asked, this time with her voice.

Because I just saw someone! Veridian exclaimed, Someone you will love me for. And he only just went into the forest. I thought - well I suspected, then I asked a warrior and he said I was right and then I was like - WOW and knew you would want to know. And now you are just awake we can go back into the forest and follow him and you can -

“Woh, woh, calm your goodwill, Veridian.” Philomel had a hand rubbing her ear. The other was still holding onto her white bladed sword that she leant on. Veridian stopped speaking, but did not calm his excitement. He was still as merry, still as ecstatic, still as jubilant. Quite literally, he bounced.

The faun breathed in and out slowly, gaining the needed oxygen to get her body back to working order once more. Slow and steady she filled herself with lungfuls of the freezing air that awoke her fully, just as the rain came to a stop. Popping her neck from side to side she stretched, then wriggled, mainly to get blood pumping in the areas that pins and needles reigned.

Veridian waited, patiently, until she gave him a nod. Then he gakked. And he jeered.

An Orlouge! I found an Orlouge! the earth-spirit revealed, Now we can finally question one of them on their own!

okay, Ioder, I ended up going first as it was a couple of hours to go and didn't know if you'd make the deadline. But your one now fits in after this neatly, and I can post the second half of my first one as seen in our doc.

[Lloyd]

Night had descended on the tent city once more, and with the darkness came inevitability. The same feeling had appeared before in these lands throughout the ages. The calm before the storm, the bitter chill before the snows of Salvar take hold. A man stood at the edge of the ocean of tents scattering the hillside.The young Orlouge had just wished his father well with all of his endeavors and had taken his first steps towards his portion of their plan.

“Find the bloody witch.” Lloyd found himself muttering as he stepped forth, venturing into the cured red wood for the first time. With him walked the stoic Hector, whom he had to find once again due to the previous night’s mishaps.

The pair, master and puppet, began their patrol of the Red Forest. Hector took the front, pushing aside the stray foliage for Lloyd like the well behaved servant he was. The crimson colored leaves covered the floor of the wood. With each careful step they seemed to part for the Mystic as if out of respect -Or perhaps out of spite, a ploy to lure him further. He had heard stories of these woods from his sister; Amy had always warned him that the magic of the crimson witch Pode was strong. Even compared to the ancient and refined schools of the Mystic’s Shadow magic, hers were supreme.

Hector drew his blade and slashed at a few hanging vines as they began to twist and move, threatening to lash out and injure the pair. The vampire tendrils of the forest were definitely deadly. But for those who had been briefed back at camp were all informed on the basics of this rotten place. “Oh, but fret not my puppet,” Lloyd said as he placed a hand on Hector’s shoulder. His glossy pale eyes showed no emotion as he continued on leading his master.

Hector let out a worried grunt as the two came upon a small opening in the brush. A hidden grove of sorts tucked away, surrounded by dense brush and crimson fear. Lloyd stood back, taking up a hidden position behind a large tree, his cat like eyes piercing through the red leaves. With his yellow glare darting back and forth Hector gripped his second blade unsheathing it.

“Well go on ya fool.” Lloyd said softly, poking his minion’s leg with the end of his covered shovel. Almost as if his pawn still wanted to fight against his control, Hector faltered for a moment before he took his first step out into the clearing. With both blades at the ready the large black haired soldier wandered out farther.

A body… the young Mystic though as he spotted the lavender hair of a fallen warrior. He commanded his puppet to approach the body quietly and slowly. This, like everything else in this cursed place, could be the work of Pode. One is never far from death in a place such as this.

[Philomel]

An earlier plan had been to never ever come back to this forest. And possibly pay to have any association with it permanently burned from her mind.

After all, it had, for the third time, sent both faun and fox into an unconscious state - far too big a risk for simply wanting a slice of adventure. Few times had they come here, and each one of those times terrible things had occurred. Most especially the most recent, when the earth spirit Argarron, in the form of a great brown bear had gotten injured and Philomel had had to leave him suffering, to go save herself …

Previously, upon awakening, Philomel would have said, “let us go straight home,” but when Veridian had revealed the young man’s familial identity, it had changed things. The Orlouges were powerful, the Orlouges were great. And the Orlouges were the main thing between her and entire dominance of her home city Radasanth, to such an extent where they seemed to be in the way every corner she turned.

Not to mention, they practically were the Ixian Knights, the Gilded Lily’s main competitor.

So it was an opportunity not to be missed. Philomel entered the Red Forest once fully recovered, ignoring the moans of Maverik her guard and with only Veridian in tow. She tracked using a sense of the earth where the Orlouge had gone and followed him and his giant zombie companion past the trees, quite silent. Using the soil and dirt it was quite easy to find where he had gone, or at the very least follow. Indeed, it took her time to properly find him, rather than just follow his tracks, but when she did she liked what she saw in those patient eyes, and the young features, and knew this was perhaps one she could manipulate.

So she waited until he found the body of the poor young lavender-haired misadventurer.

Carefully picking her way around the edge of the clearing, the faun and Matriarch of the Gilded Lily, came to a point where she could see Lloyd and Hector come into the clearing. In her hand she held her white sword of death and revenge, and in her left she clenched empty air. By her feet Veridian waited, tail swishing as the only sign of excitement left. For he was containing it. Philomel could positively feel the thrum of his deep-rooted joy through their mental connection.

For a while the young man just seemed to stare at the body. Then he sent his companion forwards. The animated corpse grunted, then shuffled forwards, much to Philomel’s amusement and intrigue. He held in his hands a mighty greatsword, likely able to fell any dark and belligerent foe - something the faun sure she could find useful.

She flicked the end of her plait over her shoulder. For a moment she hestitated - then began to advance.

Stepping out from the cover of the trees, Philomel made herself seen. Her attention was all drawn, of course, to the young man now uncertainly looking at the dead body that lay on the clearing floor. With a slight cough, she called for Lloyd Orlouge’s attention with a smirk on her lips, preparing, finally, to have the conversation she had always wanted.

[Lloyd]

Glistening moonlight danced down through the thick crimson canopy, gracing the open clearing with its refined magnificence. As if the heavens above were trying to break through Pode’s wicked hold on this forest. The fallen woman’s short lavender hair shined gray as the moonlight kissed her lifeless body. Through Hector’s faded eyes Lloyd felt an overwhelming wave of emotion.

It couldn't be... the young Orlouge found himself trying not to believe his eyes. The figure laying without breath on the cold forest floor felt so familiar to the boy. The hairs of his neck stood at attention as he froze in anticipation. He held firm to the oak shaft of his shovel, fearing to remove his fingernails from their indentions in its’ frame. Lloyd’s subservient thrall stepped ever closer as a thousand symphonies sounded in back of the young Orlouge’s mind. Sweat started to bead and fall from his brow as he bit the flesh of his lip.

The boy was completely enthralled with his discovery until from the corner of his eye he saw a blur of movement; a visage of danger. Hector immediately gripped his blade tight and turned to the figure emerging from the treeline. He readied himself for combat, to protect his master with his undead life. From the brush Lloyd examined the figure, a faun. Of all the horrible, disgusting, vicious creatures to appear before him in a place such as this it was strange that a faun would show herself. Fitting to find this woman in the thick of the forest.

With a sheepish welp she signaled to Lloyd whom she must have noticed earlier lurching in the shadows. Annoyed that when he tried to be stealthy even a forest dweller like this could find him he grunted and stood up revealing himself completely. This situation was delicate, a faun in a place like this could just as easily be an agent of Pode, like the rest of this wicked place. He reached up to the cloth cover over the tip of his shovel, removing it slowly and wrapping it instead around his arm.

“I guess there is no reason to hide anymore.” Lloyd called out to Philomel standing just half a field's length away. “Hector, would you mind scrubbing out this annoyance for me?” the young Orlouge hissed licking his lips. Hector didn’t falter even for a moment as he reared back his greatsword and started at the satyr faun. A look of disgust washed over her lush face as she readied herself for their clash.

“I have not come here to fight… But if you truly want to insist I am more than ready to oblige.” Though she had been targeted her attention still fell on the mystic. Lloyd’s thrall crossed the clearing in a matter of second before stooping, frozen in place only a sword length away before taking a secure step back. The faun seemed less than concerned with Hector as she still gave almost her undivided attention to the mystic.

“How interesting…” He said as his thrall continued to step back from Philomel. “Not here for a fight. Strange to think that there could even be a sense of calm in a place like this.” Lloyd said as he emerged from the brush into the clearing. “Why bother me then you forest dweller?”

[Philomel]

As the corpse lowered his giant blade with a dissatisfied grunt, Philomel matched him and lowered hers. She raised her chin slightly and tilted her head to the side, to seem as if she was looking down at Lloyd. This seemed not to bother him, however, for she was taller than him anyway and the quirky movement only made her look like an animal suffering from curiosity.

Sheathing her sword back into its place on her back, Philomel smiled at the young man, then cupped her hands in front of her.

“I am not a native of this place,” she said, gently. Or as gently as she could muster. “I am in fact, one of the adventurers who came from the camp, sent here to help kill Pode. Just like you, boy.”

The Orlouge, now fully visable, was dressed in full leather armour, covering torso, shoulders, arms and legs, and had a gorgeous black cloak adorning over the top. On one of his hands was a metal gauntlet, one which by its craftsmanship Philomel could tell was Aleraran-inspired, and thus very likely to have some hidden trick to it. He seemed just as cautious, if not intrigued, as she was, despite his orders to his zombie friend to try to attack her. This interest was something Philomel liked, and knew she could use to her advantages, and thus she continued in her reply to him, taking a step further forwards into the clearing.

“I … saw you in the camp. Or rather, my friend did.” She pronounced the word, ‘my’ to make it obvious that she was not alone either. “Indeed, it was he who recognised you, and your race, and first insighted my interest in you. Merely we followed you here in order to introduce ourselves.”

Lloyd narrowed his eyes, “What friend of yours?” he demanded.

The faun’s smile grew. Her short tail twitched with excitement as she incited a thimbleful of anger in the Orlouge - something she was eager to see working.

Deliberately, she did not reply to his question.

“My name is Philomel Serkena van der Aart, Matriarch of the Gilded Lily and lady of Radasanth.” She kept back her identity with the Crimson Hand, for she knew that it might irritate the boy to have a direct enemy before him. The Gilded Lily, at least, was known in Radasanth mostly for its good works in brothels, its fairness of judgement and a slight ability to provide information. So associating herself was that was safe. The Crimson Hand was not. “And which Orlouge are you? I know you are not the perfect knight, nor any of his daughters. Unless you are dressed up.”

Anger flashed behind the young mystic’s eyes. Philomel considered for a moment mocking him more, but then shrugged, and waved Veridian forwards.

“Here, this is Veridian Ryuusan,” she gestured as the fox-form earth spirit slowly meandered out from the foliage. “Earth Spirit by nature and magical in wonder. We are here to help you in whatever you are doing. Now I have introduced us, who are you?”

[Lloyd]

“Oh, how rude I’m being.” lloyd said in a soft tone as he covered his mouth with a limp hand. “No… No I am not the perfect knight or any of his children. I am Lloyd Ransom Orlouge, son of Ciato.” Lloyd finally had fully emerged from the brush into the clearing. Hector had assumed a position just behind him as they walked to meet the faun and her spirit companion. “Its nice to see another friendly face in the brush.” He said extending his hand in friendship. He was sure to offer his unarmed hand to show that he truly meant no harm.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Philomel graced Lloyd with a firm handshake accompanied by a sweet smile.

“But I’m no fool ya know. You can be a friendly as you like but that won’t change anything.” Lloyd tightened his grip of the young faun’s hand just enough to let her know he meant business. “My father has informed me well about you my lovely little faun. I know who you are, what you've done and what you're capable of doing.” The smile on the lovely faun’s face had turned sour at the sound of Lloyd’s words. “And if you followed me out here I know you have a reason behind it.”

Philomel smirked once more and withdrew her hand from the mystic’s. A quite gust of wind caught her hair as it blew through the clearing. “Clever boy…”

“But please don’t take any of this the wrong way, I’m delighted I run into you out here like this. We have at least some common ground as slayers of men.” The two were like kindred spirits forged in the warm blood of others.

“ Well it seems you are as delighted as I am. And excited as Veridian.” The excitement of the little fox seemed to be overflowing as he let out a tough yelp. From the shaded thick of the trees around them the sounds of the corrupt forest returned to plague their minds. “We need to move, it is no longer safe here.” Philomel said as she reached once more for the hilt of her sword. Hector turned to face the oncoming dark presence.

“Safe…” Lloyd began to chuckle lightly. “No where in the forest is safe anymore.” he said under his breath. Gracefully he directed his newest acquaintance past the clearing in the direction he had been heading earlier. Towards the center of the Red Forest, towards the giant tree.

Philomel wasted no time as she lead the pair off into the foliage. Hector sheathed his blade as they passed the dead body of the fallen woman. With a soft grunt he scooped her up and let her hang like a ragdoll from his shoulder. Loyd would use her later, he never let a specimen go bad.

“So, what is Ciato’s spawn doing in a place as dark as this?”

“You know, helping out the family and trying to complete my collection.” He said as they stopped just short of re-entering the thick.

[Philomel]

“Eyes on the prize.”

That was what her mother had always said. “Keep your eyes on the prize, Philomel, and then you will become a goddess.”

Or something like a goddess in power and reputation, that was what Lacey had meant. The faun whore of Radasanth listened to her curious companion's reasonings for being in the wood, but excitement overtook her and so she let a small wriggle of delight through her system.

An Orlouge. And not just any ordinary one at that, but one of the black sheep, the anti-heroes, bastard of Ciato himself, whom Philomel had heard much about. By sight of his large waddling ally Philomel figured that his mystic powers lay in necromancy, dark things and possibly demonic realms. This suited her well - for what other type of creature would she got on with. After all, one of her closest ‘friends’ was the horror Aurelianus Drak’Shal and it was never a good omen when one saw him.

Hand still resting on the hilt of her white sword she turned to him mid-stride and offered a question. “So may I ask … what things has your father told you of me?”

The boy went quiet for some time. It reminded Philomel somewhat of Argarron, who had trampled these grounds with giant calm paws, huffing every few paces. The great brown bear had had the most gentle-looking of eyes, that hid behind them an even more gentler soul. Upon first meeting him Philomel had known he was a kind-hearted bastard, one she was going to get on with exceedingly well, rather the opposite effect to what she had first gained from Lloyd. But if his silence wasn’t enough like the bear-form earth spirit, then his giant of a companion was, with that mighty sword the single thing stopping from one charging in for a hug.

“I know of your dealings with the Crimson Hand,” Lloyd said after a while, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I know of your reputation in Radasanth and on the seas. I have never really met a faun but you seem to be the most famous.”

They were heading down a rough form of path, perhaps that made by a troupe of monsterfied deer. Though Philomel would love to claim to recognise it, she did not, but she knew the best way certainly was forwards and onwards. Whether to keep themselves moving, and thus give themselves more chance of keeping alive, or to actually be filled with the desire for adventure and slaughter, to be the first ones to find the Red Witch and slay her - the reason did not matter. All Philomel currently was bothered about was Lloyd and his personality. He was an Orlouge - but different, a knight - but not, an angel - but fallen and this suited her perfectly.
“I thank you for that,” she laughed a little, “I do try. I must say I have head only of you, but in passing. Your father seems to be more famous, or infamous, depending on what rumours you listen to. Your magic … your mystic protection you call it … of what form does it take?”

Philomel, came a sudden interruption, Are we not heading too far east?

She sighed, agitated, Darling, not now!

But east is where you-

She rolled her eyes, kept her focus on Lloyd. Veridian indeed was warning her of some danger, but then there was nothing that was not dangerous in the Red Forest.

The young man looked at her speculatively for some time, but then just blinked and replied simply, “Shadow magic. I create thralls.

“Yes I see that,” Philomel said, barely looking back at Hector. “But what else can-”

Philomel!

Veridian, its fine. I am keeping an eye out. Maybe you should too instead of complaining all the time. Don’t you see this is perhaps the only opportunity we might get to ever talk to a mystic?!

The fox in the back of her mind hissed, but then he faded away. Philomel felt him severe his communicative link to her, leaving only the usual numbing feeling of a connected conscious. Rolling her eyes she ignored this little tiff, and kept speaking to the Orlouge.

[Lloyd]

“How very inquisitive of you, why are you concerned with my business?” Lloyd answered the prideful faun with a sinful slash of his forked tongue. He was uneasy disclosing such information to those not part of his circle. If his sinful father would even know that he in anyway had jeopardized the sanctity of his family Lloyd would receive the full extent of his fury.

“Tis just the first time I had a chance to have a chat with a mystic.” Philomel responded with a sultry sting to her voice.

“This is hardly the time or place small talk.” Lloyd said as her pushed aside a hanging branch from his path. “I mean no disrespect my lady, but there are bigger things to worry about.” the mystic went on with a finger raised. Lloyd, though focused on the situation at hand, couldn't help but find himself still thinking back to the young lady he found dead in the open clearing. She bared an eerie familiarity that made the bastard Orlouge’s insides churn. From the color of her hair to her lightly tanned skin she made Lloyd think back to his faded memories of his mother.

Astrodeia, even just the sound of her name made the cold surgeon to feel warm. A wonderful and delightful demon of the night she was. Lloyd could still see faint pictures of her skulking the rooftops of Radasanth. He always held both his mother and father in the highest regard. Even after being separated by the void Lloyd still felt a strong connection to his mother. She to this day is the only corpse Lloyd has ever fought his urges to exhume.

“Apologies, I agree we should go on and make it to the center of this place. They said back at camp that the problem was the thickest surrounding the mother tree.” Philomel’s sudden answer suddenly returned the mystic back to his foggy surroundings.

With a soulful sigh Lloyd waved to his thrall to set the body he was carrying down. Hector obliged and carefully rested the young lady’s lifeless body against one of the dying trees. Her loose head rolled once over before Lloyd could catch it. With his forefinger and thumb he held her head up against the bark of the tree as he began to examine the remains. Though clearly this girl shared some distinct traits with his mother, this poor soul was not her.

It could have been…

Lloyd crouched in front of the lifeless body and started to search his satchel for his tools. “I’ll be ready in a moment. Can't let this opportunity go to waste.” he said as he removed both a set of scalpels and an empty glass jar. Philomel seemed to take an interest as she walked closer to observe the Orlouge as he began to work. Harvesting organs was a delicate task after all and one not practiced often. With his soft hand he moved the girl’s shirt from her chest exposing just enough to get to the heart. Slowly and precisely he made his first incision.

[Philomel]

It was only really then that she realised he had gone.

The body ... The boy suddenly did not matter. It was all ...

Get to the centre my ass. Veridian was gone. Her beloved ... Was not anywhere to be seen. Not in sight, not in sound ...

Her breath caught in her chest at the notion of him disappearing. Frantically she searched in her mind, eyes widening. It was like a worst nightmare, but one that she had been the cause of when she had told him to go away. Guilt, fear, horror - all these things washed through her as she just ... Realised.

Oh gods. Oh Drys ...

"viridian!" She screamed out loud, "Veridian, Veridian!"

But there was no answer. There was only the Orlouge boy and his lump of a slave. In her mind there was just a weak connection of a subtle life, so at least he was alive ... But he was gone...

She tried calling his name again, this time in her mind.

Nothing. So she tried again, only louder.

Drys' sake ... VERIDIAN!!!

And this time she got a reply. It was far more horrific than she could have dreamed. It was a cry of pain, or torture, of insanity. And her denial of love's existence was washed away in an instance by the confounding thought of hearing that sound. Of he. Of him in pain. In agony.

Never never again.

She had been his death already once before.

So with a yell of fury and with no explanation she threw herself away from Lloyd and charged straight into the trees where Veridians cry came from. Lloydshouted after her, but the faun's only concern was her beloved. He needed her. He was in pain. And she would save him.

Loves blinds even the strong of heart.