Castle of the Bloody Night (Open) {October Event!}

The countryside around the broken castle was ruined, desolate. What vegetation tried to grow there only came forth as twisted, stunted mockeries of what they should be, dying off and withering into desiccated husks within days. The very soil itself seemed grey and dead, lying as lifeless as the stones that were embedded in it. The animals that survived here were one and all scavengers, emaciated caricatures of healthy creatures that they once were.

Not even the sky was safe from the depressing atmosphere. There was no clear sky, no bright sun, or dark starlit sky. Instead there were dark grey clouds that hung over everything, stretching as far as the eye could see. No light seemed to pierce through the cloud cover - but at the same time, it also never seemed to get darker, locking the land in a gloomy monotone.

The air itself was thick with ash or dust, it was hard to tell which. Visibility was poor, and carrying a torch only let one see about fifty feet out. Beyond that, grey shadows stretched into the thick atmosphere, until finally one could see no farther.

The only thing that rose up to break the monotony of the landscape was the destination of many travelers now - brave souls, wary souls, Adventurers, and wanderers alike. A large imposing castle stood silhouetted against the sky, the upper reaches of the keep piercing through the clouds and disappearing from sight. Outwardly, it looked like it had seen better days - the outer wall had been reduced to rubble, the stones all across the outside showed signs of fire and other damage.

Strangely, the large doors that server as entrance to the castle stood, proud and intact, strong wood coated in a burgundy enamel with gold filigree designs across it. The designs seemed to shift as someone looked at it, and no two people saw the same design - in fact, people rarely saw the same design twice.

It was this castle that was Nevin’s destination. He had heard rumors that somewhere here, deep in the grey dead region of Tular, someone or something was taking blood from people. So he had come, fearing another, darker branch of the Church of Crimson had sprung up here, hidden in seclusion. One hand rested on his whip as he adjusted the thick scarf he was using to block out the choking air, making it was secure around his face.

His dark eyes scanned the horizon, trying to pierce the gloom. The alchemist had set up a temporary camp a distance from the ruined gates of the castle, and had laboriously gathered and stoked a large bonfire. He hoped to draw other travelers together before venturing into the castle itself - but he was also on guard, praying that he didn't draw unwanted attention. Only time would tell.

Quote:

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Hey y’all, this is open! Trying to get a thing going for the October event! If you join this thread I hope you're willing to write some solo stuff - warning now that we’re going to get split up. I also hope you're willing to help take down the villainous fiend who has made his home here!

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The landscape is terribly bleak, Sketch thought to himself, the dusty wind moving through his dark, grey flecked hair. He could feel a sense of despair in the land, almost if some painter had tried to create a scene to fit some horror novel. The cawing of crows around him seemed to further exaggerate the since of forlorn tragedy.He tried to brush the ashy dust off of his black and grey pin stripped suit, wishing he'd brought a cloak that could help hide him from the winds.

He'd originally come to the area to see if the recent troubles and changes had been caused by a Grym running amok, he'd heard enough terrible stories about some creatures that he couldn't discount that a Grym could have formed from them. He started to doubt the possibility as he walked along however, Grym left survivors, someone to tell their tales and increase the fear that they fed on. The area he was in looked completely abandoned, and he hadn't seen another person in a few days.

The trip was getting arduous, he'd ran out of his sleeping medicine a few days back, which meant that Sketch wasn't in the happiest of moods. Having sentient nightmares invade your dreams tended to leave one a bit sleep deprived. The bags under his eyelids were becoming more and more pronounced as the sleep debt increased. He hoped he could find a bed somewhere soon. Eventually, a large building on the horizon broke the drab scenery.

The castle was a large blade piercing the sky as it came in to view. It was a jagged, broken place that radiated a sense of discomfort just from looking at it. As Sketch moved closer to the place, his pace having increased due to the excitement, he could see large cracks running through parts of the walls, and giant chucks of rubble scattering the landscape. He saw the telltale glow of a campfire closer to the structure, the red glow casting a red tone to combat the surrounding grey, and it seemed to give off a sense of hope.

((Let me know if this needs to be changed, I took a couple liberties))

The campfire drew wanderers like moths to a torch. Soon a small group had formed around it, weary travelers glad to warm their hands. Some spoke of their journies while others stood in silence, but all conversation cut off as a grating groan rolled across the plains.

The castle gates swung open, slowly, almost mockingly, their voice harsh with rust and disuse. From the darkness within strode a lone man... although he could not have been just a man.

His pace and his posture displayed absolute confidence, yet the expression on his face spoke of modesty and nonchalance. The Y-shaped scars beneath his hazel eyes stood out like trail markers on the path to his identity. His close cropped brown hair appeared immaculate, his black sifan clothing seemed freshly washed and pressed, and his matching boots shone as though recently buffed. He gave a subtle smile as he approached the group of travelers around the fire.

Those who carried weapons put hands to hilts. There was a shuffling of feet and a rattling of metal as all present turned to face the strange man.

"I mean you no harm," he said, raising empty hands. "My name is Joshua Cronen. I am a traveler, much like all of you." His voice was smooth, his diction impeccable. The choking ash in the air did not seem to touch him, as though kept at bay by an invisible force. An aura of cleanliness and strong vitality surrounded him, and the wanderers parted to make room by the fire.

The broad-shouldered man's smile grew as he warmed his palms, looking around at the questioning faces. They were curious. They wanted to know what he had seen and experienced inside the towering castle. Either propriety or fear of the potential answer stayed their tongues.

I wonder who will be the first to ask?

A small pop in the air occured then, cutting off the last few words of Joshua's speech. There was a faint white-blue light, and out from the ether appeared a strange figure, dressed in a dull silver grey. She landed on two clawed feet spread wide apart between trees and fire and as she did she let out a mighty gasp.

And doubled over, wheezing.

"Oh sorry," she waved a hand at Joshua, just seeing the pose that everyone was in. Shocked, amazed, eyes glued to a man who had strode through iron gates of the massive castle up on the hill. "I interrupt-"

She suddenly retched then, throwing up air and nothing else. Still, however, it sounded awful, the noise making worms wriggle away in fear and birds angrily caw back at her. Being half bird herself, with the long pointed beak, sable feathers and scaly bent legs of a raven, she looked back at them and coughed back a similar noise.

"Oh fecking ... Stupid demonic country," she cursed. "Ruins everything to do with celestial magic ..." She ground the sides of her beak together and attempted to readjust her half helmet and chainmail hauberk back to a neat presentation - as the last of her chokes wrecked her body.

After three more she seemed to be done, and she stood, the blue-white light that had appeared with her coming now a distant memory. Straightening she eyed the man who had been speaking with an apologetic look in her eye, before starting to look around the campfire.

"Sorry Mr ... Erm I missed your name. Call me Stare, that is fine, I-"
She stopped when she realised who she was looking at. Right in front of her this entire time, simply waiting around the campfire for her to recognise him.

The again non-bald Nevin. Alchemist extraordinaire and her dear friend. Someone who her employer, and teleporter, Sir Vitruvion Elssmith, had mixed feelings about, whom neither her nor he had expected to be here.

"Nev!" She said, rather surprised. "Hi!"

And her eyes danced with joy as she settled down onto an easy log and presumed to join the others.

A cloaked figure had made their way through the deadlands, feet stomping through the dirt with delicacy yet resolution. Ezra had been travelling for what seemed like an eternity, almost desperate to catch up to the alchemist known as Nevin. Although they had been informed that the shop was closed and that the man was going to take care of a personal errand, the Homunculi couldn't help but be concerned. If on this journey, Nevin would perish, they would lose so much progress for the answers they so desperately were seeking. How many other alchemists could they turn to for advice? Certainly not anyone they knew, so Nevin's safety took priority.

And since the man insisted on not eating well, despite Ezra's best efforts on fixing that bad habit, it was more concerning that the man had traveled to such a lifeless area as few people would be around to cook for him. They had seen his attempts to prepare a meal, and frankly, they would rather face ten more ravenous bears at once than try to eat the man's 'cooking'. The new hammer they had recently acquired was in hand, as a nasty little monster had decided to try and make a meal out of Ezra. The beast's head, or what was left of it, was currently a fine paste fifty or so yards back. They definitely liked this new weapon, and its magic deflection and absorption properties would get a proper field test eventually. For now, though, it made the monsters regret coming after the short humanoid, and for that, they were grateful.

In the distance, a blue-white flash blipped into existence then vanished as soon as it had come. The Homunculi recognized it as some form of powerful magic, and made their way ever closer. The castle in the distance could wait; magic like that was a much higher priority.

Upon arriving at the campfire, they paused at the odd grouping that had made their party around the flames. There was an avian figure, with black feathers and robes. A curiosity, to be sure. A man who stood with an aura of dignity and grace, a presence that the Homunculi could not simply ignored. He stood out as a beacon of sorts against the decay of the land. Someone very, very powerful, to be sure. Next, was a somewhat familiar face in that of the Mythweaver known as Sketch. They almost waved, and then their gaze shifted back to the last man at the campfire. A very familiar face indeed in the form of Nevin himself, the very man the Homunculi had been seeking.

Pulling back their hood, they looked at the red-haired man and gave a very polite, albeit off-putting smile. "Well, well, Sir Nevin. I have finally found you. It is good to see you are alive and with ...friends?" Their purple eyes sparkled against the campfire, and the hammer they had been carrying went headfirst into the ground with a loud thump.

When we spun into existence, the first thing swirled into view was a towering structure off in the distance, encased in the shadows of the night, the outline of its various towers and ramparts illuminated by the waxing moon.

It was exactly as it had been described in the letter given to me by those two aristocrats or nobles or whatever in Radasanth whose names I've already forgotten. They were looking for a bunch of sellswords to team up and try and retake their ancestral home in the ass end of the world, I think? None of that mattered. What did matter was the reward--full access to any treasures that were horded within the stone walls of the ancient structure. Take with you what you could carry once the place was secure and the demons shooed away. When the three of us had lunch together, I asked about their library. The sister in particular was pleased that I was more interested in the spoils of the mind than of the material.

So, here we are a week later, the lingering magicks of our teleportation stones fizzling out, their soft aquamarine glow dying in the cold night of the Tular Plains.

Hype pulled her cloak just a little tighter around her lithe frame. "I already don't like this."

I slid my mythril mask down over my face and straightened out the cuffs of my shirt. "It is pretty ominous, isn't it."

Hyperion, once she heard of my plan to break from the group and go exploring on my own, insisted that she come along. In fact, she wouldn't shut up about it until I gave in. Me? Go it alone in a demon-infested castle smack dab in the middle of the part of the world map simply labeled "Here Be Monsters"? Despite having all this plague and acid and cordyceps and regenerative ability? Unacceptable! Out of the question!

Quietly, I was thankful that she was with me for the trip. Hers were an extra pair of shoulders that could carry another bag packed with any rare books I managed to scrounge up.

Apparently we weren't the only ones who were sent here by the siblings. Someone had built a decent bonfire to act as a summoning beacon for any other curious assholes in the area. I just hoped that the castle's current residents were too busy doing demon things to notice it too.

As we approached the warmth of the fire, I could start to make out the features of those huddled around it. Two others similarly wrapped in cloaks, a squat girl with the head of a raven that I immediately marked as something Hype was going to try and hug by the end of this adventure, and--

"Mister Nevin!" Hype bounded towards the alchemist, her briar-knit arms shooting out from inside her cloak as she rushed towards him, intent on giving him a greeting hug of a lifetime.

Time had passed, and Nevin's bonfire had served its purpose well. People had begun gathering around, setting up tents and talking with each other amicably. A few even talked with the Alchemist, though for some reason just as often they shied away from him, sticking with the people that they already knew, other 'adventurers' they knew had proven themselves instead of the odd Alchemist who seemed out of place. More than once, he heard people commenting on the fact that he didn't even seem to have a proper weapon, just the whip and dagger on his belt.

But he wasn't about to let that get to him. If these people thought he would die here, so be it. His life, or death, was just a tool he could expend to make sure the damn cultists were exterminated. Other people knew about them now, so if he died trying to examine this place, they would be able to make sure the remnants were squashed before they could do any more damage.

But then Nevin heard a familiar voice, telling a tale as people gathered around him, and he felt a tiny knot of tension ease from his shoulders. He would at least know someone here. That was good -

The gates, movement. A slight hush fell across the gathered people as someone came from them, a man, calling himself Joshua Cronin approached, cautiously as many of the adventurers prepared themselves for a fight. He spoke smoothly, trying to allay their fears as he explained he was merely a traveler like them. A smile grew on his face as he approached the fire, people parting around him. Nevin cleared his throat - the others were too wary.

"Greetings, Sir Cronin. You have to forgive the others - the tidings that surround that castle are most ominous in truth. I am -" Nevin's greeting was interrupted by a strange popping noise, and he turned his gaze to see - Stare. Relief and warmth spread through the man as he watched her apologize for interrupting Cronin.

She spotted him, and the sparkle in her eyes just made his own smile grow in response to hers. He had gotten accustomed to the Crow-woman's expressions, and could see the happiness she had as she folded herself down onto the log he was leaning against. This was good, a welcome sight - he knew Avis, knew she would be able to take care of herself - and she knew his secret, so if something went wrong and he had to act with his threads or blood magic, she wouldn't freak out against him.

Nevin's eyes caught on white hair bobbing through the crowd, and felt a trickle of unease worm its way down his spine. He had told the Homunculus that he was off to take care of personal business, there was no way she - oh fertile Crimson, it really was Ezra. The 'woman' smiled, and Nevin stood up to make introductions between her and Avis when he heard another familiar voice.

A half turn and one foot to brace himself, that was all he had time to do as strong arms wrapped around him, piping up a joyous greeting. It was a powerful motion, the hugger doing her best to squeeze him as tightly as possible, one that made him wheeze slightly as he tried to regain his breath. The hugging figure was followed at a more sedate pace by another, wrapped in cloak and with a mythril mask, answering any questions the alchemist might have had about his affectionate assailant.

"M-Miss Hyperion, nice to meet you again." He coughed and patted her somewhat awkwardly on the back before trying to disengage - he did not know how to deal with even friendly displays of affection like this. As Stare could attest, he locked up the first time she hugged him too. "Miss Ezra, these are Miss Hyperion, Miss Madison, and Miss Stare." He nodded to each of the women in turn, and then paused for a moment of thought as he realized that most of his circle of friends and acquaintances were female.

Sketch stood and stared at Nevin, roused from his tale as the young man became surrounded by young ladies of every sort, that boy was certainly a heart breaker. As the young Alchemist gave Sketch a pleading look, he only shrugged, part of growing up was knowing how to get himself out of trouble as well. He was determined to step in if things got violent, but the lean man didn’t think it would come to that.

He sat down and finished the story or “Little Red Ridinghood,” telling the story with the new twist, one where the cloak and axe became a monster and started terrorizing the locals with packs of giant red wolves. It was a promise he’d made to one of the Grym, one who’d agreed to “help” him. The memory of Red still sent shivers down his spine. He got mixed messages from the ancient and powerful creature who’d led him through the woods to find the book that told her past, one side of her felt seductive and shy, and the other felt like a wild beast who’d kill him without hesitation.

Sketch shook his head, trying to drive the memories out of his mind, attempting to just tell the story as best as he could. The people who’d gathered around the fire seemed impressive, at least to someone like Sketch who lived, breathed and slept stories.

He saw Ezra, the young lady who’d been involved with fending off a group of goblins in Stonevale a few months back. She’d seemed pretty interested in the Grym that Sketch had summoned, and he wondered how her apprenticeship with Nevin was going. He moved over to the gaggle of girls that surrounded the flame headed scholar and gave a deep bow to the young lady, his hand over his chest, “Lady Ezra, it is a pleasure to see you again. You look as radiant as always, has your apprenticeship under Nevin been baring any fruit?”

He gave his most sincere smile to the assembled group, attempting to be as social as the situation allowed for such a bleak setting. He would wait to question the man who stepped out of the castle until he was ready to address the group and disclose what information he wished.

Back in the halls of Grace Manor a mink haired woman in her early twenties was waving good-bye to the cloaked cat-girl, all the while trying to control the small kitten from scampering to join her mother. A warm light was pouring from the half opened door, as Mylie's little voice was whining plaintively "Please mommy! Let me come! I love adventure! I won't cause any problems! I swear and I won't let any ghost or demon kidnap me this time! Let me come mommy please!" her chocolate brown eyes sparkled hopefully, her little paws clasped in prayer as she gave her mother the cutest expression ever, hoping it'd be enough for now cautious mother to let her tag along.

"No darling!" Rainee said firmly, a frown on her normally loving heart-shaped face. She wagged a finger at her daughter from beneath her cloak saying even more sternly "Don't you dare try to follow me sweetie! You do and NO SWEETS FOR TWO MONTHS!I know how much you love your little treats, so stay and be a good little girl for Mitsuki ok?"

Mylie let out a meow of despair, her clasped together paws lowering to her sides in defeat. Her little chocolate orbs welled with tears as she begin to sob in angst. Running back into the manor, Mylie's tear-filled voice sobbed angrily "I hope a ghost gets your mommy! Your not fair!" she then disappeared back into the luxary that was her home, her sobs carrying all the way out into the dark night air.

Mistsuki sighs softly, running a hand through her thick black locks, she says softly 'She'll be fine Miss Rainee. You know she's just deeply miffed that she can't tag along to help you in your adventure....you are all she has, after all!"

Rainee gave Mistuki a soft smile as she says sweetly "Just keep her safe Mistuki, I know she's hurt now, but in the end she'll be grateful she didn't come. I hear this castle is haunted, by either a ghost or demon...and I don't want her involved in that trouble anymore.

"I understand Miss Rainee, now go, you should leave before it gets any darker!" the mink haired healer ordered softly, before she shut the door of Grace Manor firmly, leaving Rainee to go off onto her demon-hunting adventure.

"God damn it!" Rainee growled in frustration, as she pulled her cloak tighter against the chill night air. Ever since she had entered this area, she had noticed how dark, desolate and forbidden it was. It reeked of death and decay, plus the healer recognized the sure signs that something evil roamed across these lands. She could feel it, almost smell it in the dank, stale air. The soil she walked on even looked dry, like the moisture that it normally would hold had been drained out of it.

Shaking her head, the small cat-girl walked carefully across the dirty path that led to the castle she had heard about. Her small cloaked frame looked up to stare at it. It looked menacing, almost monstrous with its tall stone towers and dark windows that looked almost as if it was clearly haunted or possessed. Shaking her head, another lonely meow escapes from the nekojin's lips, before her silver eyes spot a glow nearby the desolate castle. Her tail begins to wag happily as she thinks People! Company, I won't have to journey into that hellhole alone!

Her tail begins to twitch faster as she jogged happily towards what she saw now was a roaring campfire, the orange glow and warmth a welcome change from the frigid winds and icy cold that had been enveloping her small frame the whole trek here. Moving to warm her hands, her eyes fell on the company around her, she could see an avian woman, she smiles inclining her head politely at the crow woman, she also saw an imposing warrior, a being almost boasting of his strength in battle. She studied another small person, a woman? Or a man she wasn't sure, but she could feel magic radiating from the small figure, her eyes then saw another man, she had no idea who he was but she politely nodded her head at him. She also saw a masked plant-lady, with another woman at her side, her head tilted curiously, her cloak slipping to reveal her cat-ears which twitched in curiosity. She was dying to ask the plant-lady who she was, because she looked interesting to the always curious nekojin, but then saw the crimson hair, the polite smile and her eyes widened in surprise, her voice echoing that shock as she murmurs "Nevin? Oh my! What are you doing at a place like this? This is a long way from your alchemy shop!"

And then there was too many people.

Stare waited until things had quietened. Then, in that peace when a strange pair of plant people arrived she moved her body around to where Ezra sat. This person, this demon and other-lavender-thing, was Nevin's assistant, whom Stare had met when coming to the alchemist's shop. Now the pair had unintentionally formed some sort of awkward friendship, and despite Vitruvion's desire to still dissect Ezra, Stare found herself drawn to them.

There they were, the white-haired androgenous humanoid, with the kenku finally sidling up the bench to beside her. Stare watched as a strange cat girl then came in, frowned when it turned out she knew Nevin too and spoke:

"Hello, Ezra. Which one is Nevin's wife then? You mentioned something about a cat girl before?" She lifted her left hand, covered in a new titanium glittering gauntlet that was thin and extended her natural claws into deadly sharp spikes, and pointed at Rainee approaching from the tree cover.

"Nevin has a lot of friends." A frown appeared in her eyes. "How many of these come to the shop? How many of them ... All of them female. Apart from you."

Intriguing ... Many are here, Vitruvion murmured in her head, following the several scans of her eyes across the group of people. There had been introductions but Stare had not really paid attention, for there had been too may other thoughts.

Mostly 'who the hell ...'

I did not plan that, she grunted back to her employer. You only sent me here to investigate the rumours. Look around the house. Perhaps I might be able to look further. Not just do a brief overview.

Vitruvion considered for a moment. They must have also followed the rumours. They are new and so it would make sense. Hmm. He smiled and leant back. She caught an image of a large, round underground room, where he sat on one of ten wooden thrones. All the others were empty, and the whole room was empty. Not even a servant to give him wine or a guard to protect his back. It was the chamber of the Brotherhood Council in the Hollow, his secret hellish empire. The place where he was truly king, that he had made to feel like a god - which had worked. Was working. Except now ... now he was entirely alone, breathing slow and seemed to be ... Sad, almost.

It made her stop. Why are you there alone, Vitruvion? she asked, What is going on?

Quickly the view was gone, and her sight was of the fire and harem once more.

Nothing, he answered, far too fast for normal comfort, Continue with your mission. I agree, go and solve the mansion. Find the truth. Entirely.

Are you ... Stare was outrageously confused. Vitruvion was always alright, he was always confident, constantly able and in control. So these emotions that she heard in his voice were ... Are you actually alright?

But, he was gone.

Leaving her to sit there by Ezra, and now curious. Ready to go into the hell.

Ezra remained still as Sketch approached them. It was quite a surprise, seeing the mythweaver approach once again. They had found him to be one of the most mysterious and intriguing of people they had met up until this point, yet one of the only ones they had yet to comprehend. His past was still shrouded in mystery, and even his connection with the Grym was a rather complex one. But the bow was a formal greeting, and Ezra could only respond with a small curtsy of sorts before looking to the man with a faint attempt of a smile.

"It is good to see you again, Sketch. Had I known you were nearby, I would not have worried about Sir Nevin so much. As for the apprenticeship, it has gone quite well to date. I have learned significantly more and in a much shorter time than I would have without his assistance." They reached over, somewhat tentatively, and pat the man on the shoulder. It was clearly an attempt of friendship, although the movement was somewhat stiff.

"I still wish to discuss the Grym at some point, Sketch. I have many questions regarding them and possibly might have a question relating to an encounter I had not too long ago. But,
for now, let us relax." They stepped away, eventually taking a seat on one side of the fire and looking at the crackle and sizzle of the flames.

At Stare's approach, Ezra's grin grew wide and definitely unsightly for anyone glancing their way. After meeting the kenku in less than favorable circumstances, the homunculus felt like they could call her a friend. It was still very tentative, but they couldn't help but enjoy the company of the polite yet somewhat intimidating avian.

"Oh? The wife?" They blinked, pointing out the female who approached Nevin with a surprised look on her face. She did indeed have more feline features, and Ezra could only tilt their head. Were the rumors actually true? Did he actually have a wife? If so, then where was the child? At the mention of Nevin's friends all being female, the homunculus could only shrug in response. "I cannot say with true certainty, however, but it does appear Nevin surrounds himself with females of many types. I would not call it a harem, but I would not say it is not a harem, either. Regardless, have you been well, Stare? It has been some time since we spoke and I do enjoy your companionship. You have been quite polite when there have been people who have been less than hospitable in my travels."

Once again, the homunculus would reach out and pat the kenku on the shoulder awkwardly, then go back to looking at the fire. Perhaps they were finally getting the hang of those social cues that had eluded them up until this point.

As soon as introductions were made, Hyperion released her grip on Nevin and moved on to introduce herself to the one called Ezra.

Ezra was this... off-looking little twig of a thing. With the hair done up in a braid, the neutral facial features, and the lack of accentuated curves in body shape, it was difficult to tell if Ezra was a boy or a girl. But to Hype, it wouldn't matter much. She's Pan-friend-ual.

The briarbane slid over to shake the hand of her new acquaintance. "Hello, Miss Ezra! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

It wasn't long before she moved onto her true goal, however. After a bit of small talk, Hype turned and slowly made her way to the little crow-kin or whatever. Curiosity flickering in her amber eyes, she plopped down on the log next to her. What did Nevin call her again? Stare? Weird name, that.

Hype put her hands on her knees playfully, cocking her head to the side just a smidge. "Hello there, Miss Stare! I like the shade of your plumage! It shines quite nicely in the light of the fire!"

Alarms started going off in my head. Oh gods, she already skipped her usual protocol and proceeded to the "flirting without realizing what that means" stage.

Hype, sweetie, no--what are you doing--!

Her head tilted down, her gaze moving to her lap. Oh no, she was going to ask a question--

"You... you look adorable. Very cuddly. Can..."

--oh fuck don't do it, Hype-- I took a step forward and started to raise my hand to stop her.

"...can I hug you?"

"Sssssssshhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiit," I hissed as my face twisted into a grimace behind my mythril mask.

Sensing that she may have already crossed a boundary, she snapped up straight in her seat. "A-at the risk of sounding too forward, I mean!"

Too fucking late, you nerd!

There are several things a kenku is born immensely proud of. This is then reinforced throughout childhood, encouraged by parents and friends, colleagues and peers later and ones local shogun family. Even if born or sent out of a flock, into the karegeta, the classless sect, pride for certain things is conjointly instilled.

These things are, in order: beak, tail feathers, claws and your personal or unique birth mark. (In Stare's case, a series of deep blue feathers running down the side of her collarbone. Her tunic usually kept these covered, however.) For Stare, though, she was, in general, much easier about keeping these areas clean and perfect. This was mostly due to having been kept captive for six months underground, and since then getting in far too much deliberate and accidental combat. All of her body had been violated, several times. Pride had gone to be replaced by intense anger and dissatisfaction, that had a character of abrasiveness that was often hard to make friends with.

And so it came that pride of her physical self, which might have once made a happy kenku resist, was not there when the masked-face four-eyes came and asked for a hug. Instead there was ferocity, nestled deep within the anxious bones that were Stare, but nothing whatsoever to do with the egotism of self.

The two sides of her beak parted. And she gaped, black eyes full of wild uncertainty.

"You want a ... hug?" she asked incredulous. Then she paused. "I don't know if you are even ... Toxic."

And a quick look into the aura happened. A mellow, and perfectly serene green aura was glowing around this being of disguise, all masked and glowing eyes, as well as a mud brown-green glow of their chakras - a form of vegetation and earth magic, slightly glowing apparently. At the core also was a hot white heart, pulsating with such tender honesty and kindness that Stare was beginning to go blind.

She blinked, and realised that this genuine person had no alternative agenda, other than a hug.

These people need to trust you. Allow it, came the quiet suggestion from Vitruvion.

What?

Oh let the briarheart hug you. Apparently his mood was truly despairing. That is what she is by the way, I have not seen one but I have read about them. They tend to be powerful so let her do it. A pause, then a grunt and a grin. It's an order.

What? Just because he was feeling grumpy and wanted to take it out on her own anxiety. Just because -

Stare, just do it.

And the kenku groaned, but uneasily turned her head away and huffed. Then she nodded, a little, very, very soft (thanks to a bath before leaving) and squidgy ball of feathers. She even took off her gauntlet as she prepared for the onslaught of squealing delight and squeezes.

"Fine. You can."

And get over your aversion. Allow more hugs today.

Great, just what she needed. Allowing hugs for the rest of the entire day.

Wife? What the hell? What does the small mage mean? Rainee's ears twitched slightly, her face going from relaxed to curious as she turned the small mage and asked softly "Wife? What wife? Do you mean Nevin's wife? What?" her silver eyes widened before she couldn't help but laugh and murmur "No, I"m not Nevin's wife...um what is your name?" Her silver orbs then shifted from the small mage to that of the avian who seemed to be eyeing her heavily, a small cough escaped her soft lips as she asked softly "Hello Miss Crow. What might your name be? If your eyeing me because of what this mage stated, you have no worries I am not Nevin's wife. It...seems rumors flew around throughout Stonevale since my daughter and I shopped for potions at Nevin's shop, and well..." her cheeks flushed as she remembered her overly hyper trip on cat-nip, realizing her blush might indicting she was hiding something, she quickly explained to the avian woman "I went on a cat-nip high, I smelled a potion Nevin had made that was tantalizing too me and well, once it was in my system I couldn't help but be hyper and curious Miss Crow."

Her tail swished behind her, as she could feel nerves dancing through her body. She had never really been in the spotlight, in a group before. No, normally she was just the agile cat-girl, friendly, curious and hyperactive. Which she knew could lead her into trouble at times. Turning to examine the other group members, she saw another cloaked figure, this one definitely male and mysterious, she couldn't quite get a read on him. Studying him from head to toe, Rainee was curious who he was! Is he a mage? A mysterious wise man that can predict the future? The cloaked visage indicts something to do with magic....hmmm, maybe a lore-keeper? Shaking her head, the anthro swished her tail instead, her eyes wandering away from the mysterious man, until she heard a female with the plant-lady ask the avian woman if she could hug her!

[I][Weird!/I] was the cat-mother's first thought, but then she caught of a whiff of heavy botanical aromas coming from the masked plant-lady herself. Moving from the log she had seated herself at, Rainee begin to circle around the plant-woman, moving very close to her personal space. Moving to sniff around the botanical lady's shoulders, she continued to sniff at the strong odors her keen smell was inhaling upon her scent test of the plant-lady. The curious nekojin couldn't help but ask "Who are you Miss? You have a very curious odor! I smell keen natural aromas! Like what you find hidden in the forest or other natural environments! But I also smell something extremely strong and pungent! What is that scent? I really want to know!"

Her silver hues were bright with excitement and curiosity, sure they were sitting around a huge roaring bonfire with a mysterious, eerie dark castle looming over head. But right now, the cat-girl knew everything was fine! Its not like they were inside the mansion and she was peppering the plant-lady with her rapid-fire questions. No, right now everything was perfectly safe and fine for the nekojin to sate her curious nature. Giving the plant-lady a warm smile, she continued to sniff and circle around her, like a cat that had found the perfect toy. In an excited voice Rainee asked again "Well, can you answer my questions Miss Plant? I've never seen anyone like you around Althanas before, and I'm curious to know who you are!" the excited cat-mother then settled on a log next to the plant-woman, her tail twitching like a metronome as she waited for the botanical woman to hopefully answer her questions!

At this point, Nevin wouldn't have been surprised by anyone showing up - his little camp had become quite the hotspot for activity. Though he had to admit, he was astonished to see Rainee show up - and see that she was actually without Mylie. The two feline females had seemed inseparable, Rainee had definitely come across as doting on her daughter when he had spent time with them. So to see her wandering this desolate place without her daughter was... reassuring? Yes. The woman was a healer, even if Nevin didn't know exactly how she worked, and having someone else who could heal without resorting to the rather... disagreeable methods he would have to was probably a good thing. Now then. Nevin straightened his armor that had been knocked askew by Hyperion's hug, and stood up straighter. Joshua Cronin had disappeared in the kerfluffle of arrivals - he'd likely seen something in the castle that he did not plan on dealing with. A shame, having the fore-knowledge might have been quite useful.

Then he processed what Stare and Ezra were talking about, and Nevin turned crimson as the blood flowed to his head in a rather impressive blush. He shook his head and stammered out a reply to that before it went any further. "S-Stare! Miss Ezra! I do not have a wife, nor a harem! I told you before young lady, that I have been celibate for several years now! Do not drag poor Miss Rainee into those disgusting rumors! I have heard enough of those from the villagers - I am not a pirate nor some kind of wizard harem king!" He coughed and shot a glare at Sketch - the other man here was studiously ignoring him, and Nevin got the impression he was trying to push him towards one of the women. This was an inacceptable situation - so Nevin had begun to head towards one of the people here who had greeted him that there weren't currently a pile of rumors about - Madison. His fellow Alchemist was the safest option -

If only Rainee hadn't gone that direction after blushing and explaining that she'd been on a catnip high and overly curious. Bother. Sketch and Ezra were now talking, and Hyperion and Stare were talking while Rainee sniffed and circled around Madison. Nevin sighed and shook his head with a twist to his lips. Well, at least his friends were getting along with each other, which was a relief. He bowed to the pair of non-human women, waving slightly to Madison, before turning to face towards the Castle.

It was an imposing edifice, even now, ruined as it was. The rest of this landscape had borne no signs of structures that had survived the demonic assault, only this castle remained. A testament to the owner's dedication to the building perhaps? In any case. They had quite the collection of individuals now - so he felt it was time. He moved swiftly, taking advantage of the time the others were talking to pack up his supplies, then with a smile to the people who looked his way, he slipped away, heading down the path towards the Castle. He knew the others would follow when they were ready.

Sketch followed the alchemist when he was clearly moving out, extending his hand forward, allowing the young ladies to go first. He lowered his head and hoped that the monster they were after wasn't a true Grym, he'd feel so guilty that all of these people were here to help fix something he felt truly responsible for. He walked up to the castle with the group, and wondered what may lay inside.

He held his arm out for Ezra to take, allowing them to walk up the path together."Miss Ezra, I do hope you'll do me the honor of escorting you inside, I'd hate to see such a nice young lady hurt if it can be avoided. You show such dedication to your teacher, following him here to such a gloomy area. I'd think that a lady such as yourself would have more fun with their friends instead of hanging out inside of a dank, grim, fallen down castle. Do you by chance hold some scholarly interest in the place?"

He knew the young lady was extremely impressionable, and he wanted to help guide the young woman in proper behavior, not wanting them to pick up any of the strange behaviors he'd already witnessed from the group of adventurers, not that they were bad people of course, just that adventurers tended to be odd. He was hoping to allow her the opportunity to follow Nevin while granting her some social experience at the same time, knowing that the bookish alchemist wasn't exactly known for his outgoing personality himself.

The others that followed seemed like an interesting sort, and he knew that each one would be able to handle themselves in a fight, which made Sketch feel much safer, after all, if he didn't have to summon his Grym or use his magic, then he'd be less likely to scare anyone away. He was never sure how heroes would react to his nightmarish creatures, seeming very much like the beasts they hunted.

"Fine. You can."

Those three words ran like gunshots across the small camp, over the cracking roar of the fire, over the conversation of the others who flocked to its flame like moths. The only thing that would have rivaled it was the joyous squeak that Hyperion let out whenever someone new allowed her to complete the Friendship Ritual and wrap her vine-woven arms around their form and give them a tight squeeze--something that certainly would have startled the bird and caused a horrible scene.

Except, this time it never came.

There was always something about Hype. Oh, she was going to hug you, alright; but she also had this sixth sense of sorts when to reign the excitement in. If someone was not comfortable being on the receiving end of a hug, she would not leap into their arms and knock them off-balance. She would be careful and considerate.

That was the case this time.

The crow woman was rather short, so Hype (who had a solid foot and a half on her, at least) had to bend over ever-so-slightly as they sat side-by-side on the log near the glow of the fire. She moved slowly, spreading her arms wide, allowing the bird to get used to the idea of having someone embrace them. From the look in her dark eyes, it was clear that this was going to be a first for her.

And then Hype moved in for the kill. She scooted her butt a couple inches closer, and held her prey tight. Even from this angle, I could make out the soft, pulsating glow of her amber eyes that she was giving out one of those hugs. The one where she tapped into the lingering magics of her previous life as a healer, dispersing the energy into the crow woman. They always had a calming effect on anyone who received one. Whenever Hype held someone like this, all of their stress and anxiety and troubles simply melted away. They would relax completely, their mind forgetting the aches and pains their body racked up as her energy flowed through them. Their heartbeat and breathing would sync up with her own, and they would share a moment that seemed to linger into forever.

For the briefest of seconds, I was jealous of the little bird.

It came time for the briarbane to let go, which she did slowly and gently. Her briar-knit hands reached up to pet the girl's soft obsidian plumage, but she hesitated for a moment and settled on lightly resting them on her shoulders instead.

"See," she cooed softly to her. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Amber light beamed in her eyes as she stood up and brushed out the ruffles in her dress. "My name is Hyperion."

"Stare," the crow said, clearly confused as to what just transpired. "My name is Stare."

"It's nice to meet you, Stare! That was a very good hug! You should give them out more often!"

It was around that time I noticed the nekojin sniffing me.

The thing actually bumped into me by accident. I nearly screamed as I found myself suddenly two inches to the left.

I spun around and glared at the silver-eyed furry fuck, my features twisting into a snarl beneath my mask. "What the hell are you talking about, natural earthy aromas?! I took a bath this morning!"

And now I really wanted to take another one. Did I really stink? I don't really sweat anymore, and I've been very mindful of my personal hygiene habits since I could first draw a bath by myself. Normally I'm told I smell like a mossy forest right after a rainstorm, but I know that there was a lingering bit of rotting flesh buried deep within my vines. Was today one of the days it decided to flare up and be extra odoriferous? My sense of smell's been vastly diminished ever since I was burned at the stake twice back in Eiskalt, so I can't really tell... I bathe every other day, I put on perfume...

--Oh gods, had it worn off? We missed our mark on the teleportation stone when we made the trip, and were a few hours away from the grounds of the castle. I know that the Tular Plains are rather rough to traverse, what with the massive dust storms that whip up to keep nosy adventurers like this lot out, and you can't go five feet without tripping over a crack in the ground that leaked something either sulfurous or toxic.

Did some of that shit get on my clothes? I didn't bring a spare suit, and we're so far from any decent rivers in which I can wash them...

Did Hype bring any spare bottles of that lilac crap she practically marinates in every morning?

I need to ask her as soon as possible.

Oh, and somewhere in all this, I told the cat to fuck off and leave me alone.

He'd found the first page shortly after he'd crossed the border of the Tular Plains. The unofficial border, that was. The smattering of patchy forests and weedy grass fields of the outlands had died off a mile back, but it had only been when he saw the page, snagged in the gray claw of a dead tree branch that the sky had changed, grim colorless sunlight snuffed and smothered underneath heavy dark clouds that stretched their tumescent bulk to the edge of the world, that he knew the border was official. Reaching a hand up, knotted scars criss-crossing the pale flesh of his thick knuckles, the branch creaked, groaned, and let loose a little trickle of tinder-dry splinters as it responded to his unspoken command, bending to the ground so that he could snatch the paper from its barren bough. The paper had been carefully torn on its left border, so as not to interrupt the bizarre rings of concentric circles that glowed faintly on its pages, their interiors filled with odd swirls, interlocking curves and oddly twisting zig-zags. Nodding without a word, he folded the paper in half and tucked it into the breast of the thin leather jacket he was wearing.

The second he found when the ground lost its color and become as gray and listless as his only natural eye. It was pinned under a fist-sized stone in the middle of a recession in the ground that he surmised had once been a river bed before the land was damned. The water had dried up and the dust blown by the wind had slowly filled until it would have barely come to his ankle if by some miracle it rained, and filled the little dent in the ground. He didn't even flinch when five demons, all a motley assortment sickly colors, bruise-purple, rot-green, and puss-yellow, came shrieking down on him from a nearby cluster of crooked dead trees. The best trap they could devise, with their degenerated minds, he assumed. Lifting his right hand, he flickered his fingers, and the demon making up the back of the raiding party was lifted off the ground by parched branches, twisting and coiling around its limbs in an impossible, weaving around its chest, then reaching into its mouth, slithering down its throat and wind pipe. Focusing on the two on the left and right, he raised his pinky and index fingers. Two stones shot off the ground and hurtled through the air, leaving a trail of dust and pebbles as they sharpened to a wicked point each, a breath before they sank so deep into the right eye sockets of the scaled abominations so deep they vanished and would have punched through the backs of their lumpy skulls if it weren't for their nigh-impenetrable hide. The left hand came up before him now, and he made a swift separating motion. The ground in front of the lead demon opened up in a fissure and swallow him up to its pointed chin, while the last lunged over, sailing through the air on a direct collision course with the man in the thin leathers, who pulled a silver, double barreled handgun from the holster on his thigh. The demon opened its fanged jaws to let out another hideous, keening shriek, which was met with the thunderous crack of a fifty caliber punching through the soft palette of its mouth in a spectacular spray of blood that scattered sharp curved teeth and pieces of demolished tongue at the man's feet as it thumped to the ground in front of him.

It all took less than a minute.

He crouched down in front of the buried survivor and pulled the cotton mask off his face. Around the demon's neck was a twisted cord of desiccated skin and paper which on closer inspection had similar symbols as the first he'd found. Tucking a cigarette between his thin lips, Dan Lagh'ratham lit it with a match, the flame glittering off his ice and stone eyes, flickering the spent thing into the demon's face. It cringed and began hissing at him in Haide. Showing it the pager, he asked it if it could read the Saraelian glyphs, then when it kept cursing him, he asked it where his brother was, slapping its face lightly with the page.

When it didn't answer that either, he cut its eyes out and left it behind him.

Derium was here in the Plains, hiding these books that would tell Dan everything he needed to know to kill his gilded dick head brother. The Terran saraelians had known how to kill the high and mighty lumarians, and he knew now Derium had butchered Claire and hunted Meredith until she'd vanished. Once he got the book and figured out how to read it, he was going to commit the most vile fratricide Althanas had ever seen. As he pushed on through the ruined hellscape of the Plains, his thoughts went to her. That laugh. That red hair. The way she'd always look at him, like he wasn't a monster. Like he wasn't the Red Beast.

The hate grew colder in his guts.

Dan stopped suddenly and dropped to a crouch, spying the tiny glow of a distant camp fire. The scattered demon tribes didn't light fires. They had no trouble seeing in the dark. Licking his lips and tapping the piece of jade under his jacket and shirt, he whispered Kikurin's name under the whisper of the wind and moved forward, keeping low as his features became blurry, then transparent, and then finally he simply vanished from sight as he drew closer. His confusion only grew as the group came into sight. What kind of lop sided freak show had wandered so far out into the Plains? Some kind of bird girl-thing, caught in the embrace of some much stranger vine-armed monster, a very tired looking man that looked a bit similar to himself - less handsome, of course - in a sharp pin stripe suit, and a...person whose gender he couldn't decide on, though they gave him the weirdest feeling in his pants. That one, Dan could nearly smell the magic lingering in it, a scent of buzzing ozone around it. Golem? Sentinel?

He continued to circle them quietly, still masked from sight by Kikurin. Further along, closer to the looming dark shape in the horizon trod a young man with hair as bloody red as his hands had often been only a short few years ago, clad in tunic made of unmistakable magim hide beast. Been here before? You didn't really find magim beast leathers at the bazaar. Before he could even wonder who in Hromagh's name these people were, he spotted the last two. One was the ugliest lump of plant matter he'd ever seen with an excellent taste in clothes. He could smell the sharp, bitter stink of poison all over it, and he marked that one as the most dangerous of this gaggle of freaks. It was spitting obscenities at a bubbly little cat girl with cobalt blue hair and a nice bottom that almost, nearly managed to push Claire out of his thoughts. He stopped behind her in particular, and pulled his gun from its holster, letting it hang at his side, hidden behind her. He reappeared slowly in the firelight, the mask off, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

"Well mama, it ain't interested, but I tell you what, I'll make you purr all night." He leaned closer to her pointed ear, lowering his voice, but leaving it loud enough for all to hear. "You're a little familiar...huh. Dan Lagh'ratham. Pleasure's all your's. If you answer two questions. Why are you all out here in the Althanian version of Detroit?"

He raised the two pages he'd found clutched in his fist, the ink still glowing, its shapes and glyphs visible in the firelight. "And any one of you able to read this fuckin' chicken scratch?"

"I am ... not often fond of contact," Stare mumbled, her body hunched over.

But she had to admit, it had been a rather nice embrace. Not as possessive as Vitruvion's holds in any way. The way that the god held her could have been protective, but he did not have the personality, nor the relationship with her for that to be. No, his holds were claimants - though not creepy, they were his soft reminder to her that she could not get away. When in bed, in those times when he (thankfully these days with clothes and never naked) curled his form around her it was a sign of his needing to know she was there. A need to know that she was his, forever, and could not get away.

Yet this one ... was nothing of the sort. It had been calm and serene and gentle, but still strong. Those fingers and arms knit with vine, leaf and twig had held her tight and promise to not let go, in the slightest. Comforting above all it had told Stare that there was another way of being in the world, that there was other people besides her, her master, and her very few friends. A few that was hopefully climbing because of this strange meeting.

"Thank you," she heard herself tiredly whisper. Tired because from the amount of emotions the hug had pulled from her she felt exhausted. Happiness had been forced from her, contentment and fascination.

"You are welcome," came the warm, slightly motherly voice of the one called Hyperion.

Stare looked up at the four eyes peering at her through the mask. Slightly, her head tilted to the side and she felt herself comforted by the simple fact that here was a creature who was as rare as she was. A smile lit up in her eyes, a rare one for these were times of toughness for her and her close comrades, and she reached to touch the knotted fingers with a clawed and scaled hand.

Then a man suddenly (literally, out of nowhere), looking crazed. A human, by the pure looks of him. It was at that same moment that Stare noticed Nevin had moved to begin the ascent into the castle. Elsewhere, other people seemed occupied - the cat-girl looked wild-eyed and eager, with many people to talk to. The kenku vaguely remembered them talking to her, but she had been lost in the warm tides of hugging. Ezra was smiling, and being pleasant, the other plant-based creature was sitting nearby.

The man held up sheaves of paper in his hand, with some scratchy writings on it.

"And any one of you able to read this fuckin' chicken scratch?"

Stare blinked and titled her head, her eyes piercing through the gloom to look right at the words. A frown appeared in her eyes as she began to try to pick out individual words that she might know. There were so many books in Vitruvion's library that she had begun to grow familiar with a few alphabets, and even learn the odd word or so.

But this one was distant. Not obvious. Maybe he was too far away currently ...

A sigh. Might as well begin somewhere.

You ... really?

The god who was definitely feeling very odd grunted, I can read and speak almost every language, my dear. Might as well use it if these people are to be your allies in that house of horrors. After that you should heda into the house.

Stare grumbled, and then began to stand. She gave a curt nod and excuses to the cat-girl, Hyperion, the other plant-person and Ezra, before taking a step into the light. She shoved out a hand. "I can get you a translation. Do you have an idea of the language?"

Rainee's white ears folded flat against her head. Her facial expression changed from relaxed curious to one of annoyance. Her tail begin to twitch automatically in response to the nerves that begin to dance a tune throughout her body. Staring at the plant-lady her voice was sour as she hissed "Well excuse me! I wasn't saying you stink! Just that you smell like the freaking earth! God what the hell did I do to insult you lady? Your scent smells earthy! Nothing bad! What the hell!?" Rainee then proceeded to move away from the angry plant-lady, her ears still flat on her head as her face showed her now annoyed mood.

Sitting down on a log, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the suave male voice, it made her skin crawl at the way he flirted with her so carelessly. No she was not interested in men, clearly not at this moment. Especially when she was still recovering, in though it had been years since Kedx. Since he had tormented and corrupted her pure, innocent heart, she still didn't trust the opposite sex. Not 100%, sure she didn't men if guys showed kindness too her. Nevin had been especially considerate to her and her young kitten. In fact, going out of his way to show her hospitality when she had gone overboard both with alcohol and a heavy dose of catnip potion. Her silver eyes fell on the crimson haired alchemist as she noticed he had gotten up and headed towards the dark,dreary forbidden looking castle.

However first, the cat-girl had yet another nuisance to deal with. A man who obviously didn't know any better then to flirt with any pretty little thing he sees. She gave him a fanged frown as she hisses venomously " Dan Lagh'ratham?" She wracked her brain, the name sounded familiar to the nekojin, she just couldn't place it. Annoyance dripped with each and ever word as she replied "You seem familiar, but I don't think there was any pleasure what so ever involved if we had met before." She then turned away from Dan, calling out one last response "No...I have no idea how to read that chicken scratch on that sheet of paper!" her body rigid with her irritation as she practically felt like poison was crawling throughout her body.

Moving away from the bulk of the man who had tried to pick her up, she instead begin to make her way towards the ominious towering castle, pulling her cloak tighter against her slim body, she was certainly glad she had left her daughter behind in Mistuki's care. My little one does not need to know the horrors of adulthood...yet! I had to shield her from her father's poisonous ways. In the end, she still thinks he just left, but he loves her. No baby, I"m sorry to say he doesn't care for either of us, we are no longer his family. But, I don't have the heart to explain it to you yet. Her whole body posture drooped slightly as now after her first attempt at being friendly had faltered horribly, she felt lost alone. She could try to catch up with Nevin and speak to him, but no her heart just didn't feel up to it.

She also had this sinking suspicious feeling that this mansion was nothing but trouble, she was sure from the chill that ran down her spine that a demon or some dark being resided proudly as king with in the castle's opulent walls, she just wasn't sure what matter of evil lied with in yet. The strange assembly of people seemed very mismatched to the now sullen cat-mother, she wasn't sure how the hell they were going to search this giant castle, let alone succeed in finding anything it, when it seemed like apart from the avian lady, the mysterious cloaked man and the non-gender little mage, no one else seemed to get along. In the cat-girl's opinion the plant-lady seemed ruffled and angry by anything that was said, and the bulking warrior that just arrived seemed to just rub her the wrong way. Especially with the greeting he had given her Ugh, men think they can just bed any female that they come across. Such sexist pigs, I'll just have to keep an eye on him, make sure that he behaves because I sure as hell won't just be a conquest for him, I have no bloody interest in that shit! Nearing Nevin at the extravagant castle entrance, a shudder raced through her spine as she looked up into the castle's ghostly eye-like windows, it felt as if evil was pulsing from it. Hugging her cloak as tightly against her as she could her mind though softly What evil hides within? Damn it! I should have done more research before coming here!

Ezra only tilted their head at Nevin's embarrassed outburst.

Why was he so flustered at the idea of being popular romantically? Wasn't that one of the goals of any species? Find as many mates as possible to increase your chance of continuing your genetic legacy? They knew that humankind varied in this regard, as some would only take on one spouse while others would have their harem as a show of power and virility.

...or in some cases, lack there of.

Regardless of the alchemist's feelings, Ezra was distracted by the offering of an arm by the mythweaver. Sketch was an anomaly in their study of humans; he was even more mysterious than Nevin could be yet was a proper gentleman in how he treated the homunculus. Although it was clear that the man had no idea of their true origins, the fact that Sketch was so polite regardless after only a few brief meetings was perplexing yet refreshing.

Sliding their arm around his, Ezra walked along side the man and kept as much of an even pace as possible. Although it was proving somewhat difficult when your walking partner has at least half a foot of height against you. After a few steps, they looked up to the man with a curious gaze, as if trying to decipher a puzzle.

"Mister Sketch, although I do appreciate the escort, I must question your intentions. I am more than capable of walking myself inside without assistance. And you mention that I would have 'more fun with my friends' than be in such a dark place. You are somewhat correct in your assessment of my interest of the castle. However, I cannot say that I am here solely for a scholarly study."

Their explanation halted, as they let out a small hum of annoyance.

"Although, I am here to learn something, but I am also currently seeking something as well. This castle might hold the information of its current whereabouts and would be quite useful. As for being in the company of my friends..."

A single finger pointed ahead towards the castle's gates, and Ezra let out a small exhale of breath through their nose. "One of my friends is currently headed into the castle, while my other friend is currently behind us working on some form of translation, from what I overheard." They looked back up to Sketch, trying to lock eyes with the man. "I do not have many that I call friend, Mister Sketch, so I must make sure they stay safe. But I have digressed from my previous inquiry. What is your intention, Mister Sketch? I do not understand your generosity in being my escort. I can only assume based on my analysis of other's interactions that you are attempting to protect me as you think me frail, or you are attempting to stay close to me in some attempt of affection in a romantic sense."

"Are you attempting to 'woo' me on this possibly dangerous endeavor we are heading into, Mister Sketch? Based on what I have seen, this is not exactly the ideal location to attempt such things."

Sketch laughed genuinely, and then caught himself, ”Please forgive me Ms. Ezra, I mean no disrespect. I’ve never been one to consider the prospect of courtship, I’ve heard the tales of how almost all romances end, and I prefer to keep myself unattached to anyone who would keep me from my travels. “Wooing” as you put it is nothing I would dream to attempt on a friend such as yourself. My only goal is to be the gentleman I know myself to be, and if I see a young woman alone, it is my duty as an older man to provide company and wisdom if I can.”

Sketch grew a little whistful, feeling nastalgic over the idea of traveling with someone. Had he traveled with a friend before? A lover perhaps? He almost felt purchase on the thought. No, it was gone, he’d lost the memory. He had almost found a piece of his past, and he cursed himself for lacking it.

The pair walked up the path towards the castle, seeing a few of the other people. He witnessed the crow-person and briarkin embrace, and he couldn’t help but smile seeing new friends grow. Sketch was unsure about Nevin at this point, apparently his friend had left out quite a bit of his travels, and he was unsure if the young man he knew had left out the information due to his own desire of privacy, or because he was unsure of the Storyteller.

He didn’t want to unnerve his friends because of his dark powers, he’d been fortunate enough to not be labeled as an outcast back in Stonevale. He’d already had a few uneasy instances involving the superstitions of several small villages already, including gale, the first town he’d come across.

He collected himself, shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, and stood up straighter as to provide a better example for Ezra, he gave her a gentle reaffirming smile to the young lady and walked along, keeping his pace short, so it was comfortable for the young lady.

Nevin pushed onwards to the castle doors, large and imposing even in their partially ruined state. He frowned slightly - there should be the tracks of many people having gone to and fro here, the various adventurers that he knew had been coming to this area for a while. If not that, there should be signs of the cultists he was here to hunt, too many rumors of people obsessed with blood ran abound in this area. But no, there was no sign of any tracks, beyond one set - Joshua's from the man coming out. No sign of his entering shown in the dirt and rubble. How strange.

The alchemist straightened up from his examination of the ground and looked to see who had caught up already. It made him smile to see Ezra and Sketch taking with each other, though they had quieted down by the time they reached where he was standing. The two seemed amicable enough not to need his interference, so he just have a short wave to the dump. The other person nearby was Rainee -

And oh, did the cat-woman look downright pissed about something. That actually made both of his eyebrows rise into his hairline as he looked at her - when they had first met, the woman had been nothing if not kind and gentle... and far too curious. There had been none of this scarcely contained fury, nor the dark looks she shot back towards the camp. He looked towards it - and saw that there was a figure there he did not recognize. Was this someone Rainee knew, and detested? Or had something happened that he didn't hear as he left? Hmm.she let me pled like she could use a distraction.

"Hello again Miss Rainee, we didn't get much chance to talk back at camp. I'm quite sorry about your getting involved in this rumors - I've tried to talk to people about them, but they just smile behind their hands and go on with them anyway. I'll keep working on them though. That aside - how is young Mylie? I hope she's still doing well? And, shall we?" Soft, measured footsteps had carried him over to her, his tone apologetic until he asked about her daughter. Then, with a smile he had gestured to the imposing doors, before moving over to them.

With a mild effort, he shoved the large doors open, grunting slightly in exertion as he fought the rust in the hinges. With a loud, creaking groan they swung open - and Nevin stumbled inside, disappearing from sight. All that remained was the gaping doorway, with dark black inside cutting off all sight from the outside.

A blue orb begin to flutter down and bounce and hover around the agitated cat-girl's shoulders. It pulsed brightly once before it whispers into the nekojin's mind gently consolingly Don't let your darkness consume you sweet sister! Don't let the pain of your past overshadow the bright future you could have! Come now, a friend of yours is speaking to you! Focus on that! Not fear, or pain or anger at men. Yes, my kind can be asshole, can be greedy and will throw away anything in pursuit of power! But not all males are like that, look for the good in the world! Not the bad! Remember dear sis, I am here if you need advice! Don't give in to the demons in your heart! Don't let that black shard consume and corrupt you!

Rainee's silver orbs still stare darkly at the ominious huge windows glinting in the castle's towering visage. Her tail was twitching still, only slightly as she was lost in her own thoughts. The nekojin let out a meow of surprise when she heard first her brother Omarion's soothing words and then the question her new friend Nevin was asking her. Her eyes look slightly spooky as she whispers "Oh! Nevin, ummm....Mylie...Mylie, is um..." pursing her lips, Rainee pauses her answer as she screams inside her mind Get it together girl! Don't let that pig back at camp put your mood in a funk! You have a goal! To find out what demon is wreaking hell in this castle! You need to save innocent lives! Listen to your brother's words! the bright blue orb pulses in agreement with Rain's thoughts, hovering again around the still cat-mother before settling comfortably on her shoulder and flashing again to let her know her mind was on the right track.

Poking the orb gently, Rainee's whispers softly Shush Omarion! The orb just flashes once then bounces lightly on Rain's shoulder, before Omarion whispers once more in the nekojin's mind Just relax dear sister, think of your little one and answer your friend's questions honestly. Don't worry about the darkness hovering thickly in the air. You'll find the source soon! Rain smiles after her dear angelic brother whispers this in her mind, feeling the tenseness disperse from her body. A more natural smile graces her soft lips as she answers Nevin softly "Sorry, you surprised me Nevin! I have thoughts on my mind....Mylie she is doing well. Though obviously not happy that she couldn't come along on mommy's adventure! Positively threw a temper tantrum when I left her with Mistuki. She's a friend of mine I have babysit Mylie when I can't bring her along." gesturing to the darkness behind them, Rain continues "Its a good thing I left her safely at home though. She'd be a nuisance to have a long on a demon hunt Nevin!"

Looking up again at the castle's gloom she asks Nevin softly "I love her to much to constantly have to watch her and keep her out of harm's way! She, unfortunately is a magnet for attracting danger!" a frown creased Rainee's lips for a moment about the rumors, before she laughs softly and murmurs "Its ok Nevin, rumors happen and unless we prove they are wrong, the rumor about us will just keep floating around!" she then watches as he disappears into the cavernous depths of the castle, the door banging shut loudly behind him. Gulping audibly Rain looks at the orb still resting on her shoulder before she whispers "Don't disappear on me brother! I may need your help once we enter the castle! I sense great darkness inside!" she then stiffens her shoulders and heavily pushes the door Nevin has just opened open again. Her tail twitches like a metronome as she disappears into the castle, the door once more loudly banging shut, was the cat-mother has carefully made her way into the dark castle!

"It's Saraelian." Dan looked at the bird-woman, then to the page in his hand, and finally down to the pistol still clutched in his fist. After a moment's hesitation, his face twisting in a rare moment of puzzlement, he holstered the gun. No point wasting the bullet, he had nineteen left and they cost a pound of flesh per piece. No one had even breathed a hostile word at him, even the cat-woman, though her tone made him roll his eyes. No one had a sense of humor anymore.

Pulling a long, thin silver pipe from inside the leather jacket - which upon close inspection was dirt cheap, stitched out of irregular hides, and made to last only a few days in the Tular climate - Dan clenched it between his teeth and then shoved the pages at Stare. The odd cerulean ink, mottled with flecks of gray seemed to shiver on the stained paper, the glyphs seeming to fade her at the tip of the eye, or grow bolder when turned at another angle. "It's Siocan Saraelian, actually. Uh, they were..." he paused, frowning and thinking of the best way to put it as he pulled a match out of his sleeve and flicked it across the pipe, casting his face in an orange glow that made him look vaguely monstrous, his tired eyes hollow in the flickering little flame.

"They were primordial things. Old elementals that descendants of modern society called demons." He didn't know much about his own people, but he knew enough to pass a pop quiz. He knew their caste system was a brutally heavy chain on the necks of anyone less than a Sol, the Saraelians that "brought the sunlight down to Saraelia", or so a book in a Raiaeran library had told him. And he knew they'd killed each other in a violent war where the princes literally tore each others throats out on the battlefield. But there was more, so much more, and a little more was there in his hands, in that castle...perhaps. He'd had the vague notion that this was all too simple, and perhaps nothing more than a set up for some homicidal wizards murder game, but he'd never been killed by a wizard, and he was sure today would not be the day it happened either. Bending down, he eyed the Kenku, admiring the silky sheen of her sable feathers, wondering why he'd never seen something like her before. He pulled on the pipe, and as the ember began to glow a bright red, the smoke that wafted off of it did not smell like tobacco.

"I like you. I'm gonna keep you safe," he announced, his lips splitting open in a wide grin that somehow managed to look a bit accidentally sinister. "You all seem to be going into that castle, listening to the rabbling. Now ain't you all just the luckiest lot of shit kickers on the Plain right now? Know why? Cause I'm gonna come too, because i think the book is in there. So!" He spun away from Stare just as Nevin gently pushed open the door. His face fell in disappointment for a moment. He had been expecting some abomination of an eldritch door guard, or ballista turrets, or maybe even some sort of blood sacrifice seal of some kind, but nothing. Shrugging, he started across their makeshift campsite with long strides of his tall legs, eating up distance rapidly. He tore off the shoddy jacket and threw it by the waning fire as he passed, revealing that he was wearing just a tattered vest that had been black many washes ago, and was now a dark gray, and a white collared shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows and dotted with many old, dark stains. Butcher stains.

He didn't look back, didn't even arm himself as he crossed the threshold, only leaving behind a cloud of the harsh gray smoke behind him as castle's void swallowed him.

"I like you. I'm gonna keep you safe."

Her brows rose at that, but her hand curled around the papers all the same. Two pages, both crisp as if newly made, of so old that age had dried them sour. Her eyes glanced down quickly, looking at the scratchy, angled marks. 'Saraelian,' he had said. 'Primordial.'

Do you know it? 'Primordial' would still suggest Althanas.

Vitruvion was a master of many languages, even those of dead cultures. The idea of him knowing something that was ancient was highly likely.

There was a pause. I believe so. My instincts thought ancient demonic and what he says is connected to ... the god in the back of her mind took a moment to get up from his seat in his private study and head through into the vast library of his home. He showed her images of the rows and rows of books, the endless possibilities. He said 'book'. More reason for you to enter the house itself. Go with him, his pale, sculpted hand with keen muscles slid along the spines of several brown, tattered times. Even if you split up, I can translate much of it.

Stare breathed in and looked over to the intriguing man. He was already sauntering away, having said his piece. By the way he had looked at her he seemed intrigued, as if she was a new sight. It wasn't a surprise he had never seen her kind before. Most hadn't - kenku were very few and far between.

Altogether he was a strong, knowing man - or being. Stare slipped into the aura sight for a moment and caught a glimpse of a chaotic personality and a dark, spiralling power that ... Well was sable black like that of demonic, but had an aged essence to it. Slowly she blinked, focusing in on him as he walked away, becoming as intrigued by him as he was by her.

Run. He is walking away.

Sucking in a breath through both beak and thin nostrils, nestled within the keratin, Stare began to run. Her clawed feet, with the shining steel claws as extra sharp attachments, scraped along the dusty ground. Her small knife and pack bumped against her back as she went, eager as she was.

"Stare," she introduced herself, folding the papers now and sliding them inside her pouch. "If you get the book I'll see you outside after we-"

And then there before them was the void between the doorposts. Whether the man had heard her, Stare was unsure, but he stepped right into the great darkness without hesitation. A pause and she considered herself, as indecision floated through her. Should she go in? Was it wise? Was there anything she had to do?

Vitruvion was pouring over a book. A loose connection to him told her as such, as he flipped through pages. Pausing she knew he expected her to head straight in, and so she knew she must.

After that minute pause the kenku nodded to herself, and then took the step. She strode, raised her head. Stepped.

Into the castle of horrors.

{As of this point, everyone is now in the castle - if you didn't get a post in before, sorry!}


Madison and Hyperion walked through the portal in step - one in search of knowledge, the other to help her dearest mistress. The gaping black abyss beyond the door swallowed them up as it had everyone else who cross its threshold. Bringing up the end of the back were the two who had been linked arm and arm as they walked and talked - Sketch and Ezra. The duo had stuttered a moment when their friend vanished, but had pressed on as others moved through the strange portal. Even walking through together, as soon as they reached the edge of the Black wall, they lost sight of each other -


Dark shadows leech away from the eyes of the people who walked through the portal, letting their vision return to them. Stepping through the threshold had been like walking into thick black ink - it wrapped around you cutting off the outside world as you felt a wrenching, twisting motion across your entire body and a powerful tug in your gut - clear signs of spatial magic at work.

The room that the assembled people found themselves in was about ornate grand hallway. Behind them was a smooth stone wall with tapestries hanging down - no sign of the door that they had come in through. The chamber was richly decorated with delicate wood tables with ornate flowerpots on top, and a series of stained glass windows on one wall let reddened moonlight shine in, accenting the fluttering flames that danced in decorative sconces.

In front of the group, and half a story up above their heads, was a balcony that had am iron railing with a pattern of blooming flowers worked into the rails. Back beyond the edge of the rail, almost obscured from sight, was an ornate door - the only door anywhere to be seen in the grand entrance. The group was left to their own devices for only a few moments - long enough to see that there was no way out beyond that door above them, and that the interior of the castle was completely at odds with the exterior.

Then there was a loud clapping, applause that drew their gaze up to the balcony l. Even for those who had been watching the spot, none would have seen the man appear - between one blink and the next he was just there. He was dressed in rich finery - an elegant black mantle sat atop a crisply pressed pure white shirt and a vivid red cravat sat in his throat. The man bower, sweeping a hand out to one side as he did so, showing that he wore pure white gloves that seemed to be leather, but not quite. His face was clearly aristocratic as he straightened back up - sharp, prominent nose and almost gaunt cheeks.

"Welcome, welcome to my most humble abode. I am so pleased to see that there were so many richly qualified individuals tonight. You are not like the rest of that riff raff that has been coming sniffing around my home of late." The man's voice was rich, languid - and had a strange cadence, an unnatural rhythm that drew the ear, making one listen to him.

"Oh yes, this group is most assuredly a cut above the other wastrels that have been occupying my attention of late. Ah, do forgive my rudeness. My name is Duke Edelweiss, the master of this castl. It is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such fine, upstanding individuals." The smile that Edelweiss beamed down at the group was full of teeth that were entirely too sharp. He waved one hand, and a glowing reddish rune appeared, hanging in the air beside him.

"Now I am a busy man, but I would be a terribly ungracious host it I did not have festivities planned for my guests. So then, a contest, between your fine peerage, and my staff and companions. In a moment, you will be whisked away, but before I do, the rules are simple. Whenever you end up, one of mine will be the bearer of one of these sigils. You simply need to collect the sigil to progress - and once enough are gathered, you can meet with me directly. If you desire, at that point, that is." Another sharp, hungry smile, and Edelweiss clapped sharply.

Dark shadows sprang up from the ground, wrapping everyone in inky blackness once more. A sharp, powerful wrench - and the entrance hall was eerily quiet and empty.

And we are split! Shortly individual threads will be coming up for people - you'll either be by yourself or with one other person. These gave been predetermined -
when the thread goes up, I'll out who is in it in the initial post along with a description of the location. Keep an eye out!

No Judgment -

Nevin - 660 EXP and 60 Gold!
The Crooked Knight - 350 EXP and 45 Gold!
Breaker - 210 EXP and 20 Gold!
Stare - 625 EXP and 60 Gold!
ArcanaFate - 265 EXP and 35 Gold!
Briarheart - 530 EXP and 35 Gold!
Nekoprincess - 470 EXP and 45 Gold!
Slayer - 300 EXP and 25 Gold!