The Radasanth Rundown

[Harrier]

(Open to one, possibly two)

Splash! Wil rubbed his face shortly after the water hit him and then rubbed his eyes, staring into his looking glass with an incredulous glare. Almost three hundred gold pieces had appeared in his apartment, and to his best memory he had spent the entire night asleep. “Why then, do my muscles ache?” he thought, wishing that there was some way that he could explain the past month. “I was out there… doing something.” Wil gulped as he looked at his face in the mirror. He had never thought that it would be possible for him to see himself the way he was seeing himself at that moment. He was simultaneously intrigued and revolted with himself.

The former produce peddler decided that he needed to calm down. It was early in the morning, and a month ago, Wil would have never considered this, but he had decided that he would go to the tavern just a few blocks down the street. Drinking during the day had always been a sign of sloth in the Harrier family, a stout glass of country liquor was supposed to be reward for a hard day’s work, but this was not a normal time. Wil needed to calm his nerves somehow. He was no good to anyone, least of all himself, panicking pathetically over the possibilities of his nighttime excursions. “No, it’s better to go to the Blind Pig,” at least that was what he rationalized to himself.

With his eyes seemingly hollowed out from an uneasy night’s sleep, Wil made his way over to the Blind Pig. The streets were fairly empty. A few amputees from the Civil War panhandled by the roadside. Their vigorous appeals to Wil suggested that he had been one of the few people to pass their way that day. The civil war had mixed effects on Radasanth. Many of the younger men were now soldiers for one side or the other, either by profit or because of unofficial policies of forced conscription. Wil knew that the Blind Pig wouldn’t have much to drink besides its home made liquor, a drink that was likely disgusting for someone with middle class sensibilities, but perfectly acceptable for Wil.

Once Wil entered the Blind Pig, he found he wasn’t the only one who had wanted to get started on drunkenness early in the day. The tavern was dirty and disheveled, there was a passed out man lying against the back wall with vomit on his face. Flies hovered around a pool of it on one of the tables nearby. Peanut shells and other forms of semi edible debris were scattered all around the ground. The people who weren’t sleeping off the previous night were gathered around bar stools, drinking solemnly without speaking much to each other. None of them seemed like upstanding citizens. Wil suspected many of them were drinking now because they “worked” at night.

“A glass of liquor, whatever you have,” Wil said. He plunked down a handful of coins on the table.

The tavernkeeper nodded. “All we got’s the house stuff, bub,” he said.

Wil nodded. The tavernkeeper gave him a generous sized glass and picked up the gold coins.

“These are melted,” the tavernkeeper said. “What’re you trying?”

Wil looked over at the tavernkeeper, who was now holding out the coins to demonstrate his point. Wil shrugged. “It’s a lot of gold?” he offered.

“Fair enough,” the tavernkeepr replied. “That’s one drink’s worth.”

Though he was normally very conservative with money, Wil didn’t care to argue. He took a sip of the liquor and sighed, eagerly waiting inebriation. Little did he know his problems had just began. There was a bounty hunter in that bar looking for the creature that he had become the previous night. Few people stole from the Corone Rangers and lived to tell of it.

(Feel free to enter either as the bounty hunter, someone in the bar, or make your own entrance. Also please note, you will be looking for Wil’s monster form, not the form he is currently in. Unless you have tracked him somehow, you won’t know that the monster and Wil are the same person. Since I would like to maintain Wil’s lack of knowledge for a while longer, I’d appreciate it if no one took that angle to enter the thread.)

[Veatrix]

They’re asking me to find some creature for 300 gold? I couldn’t even buy a steel sword with that.

Veatrix Bane tucked her wavy blonde hair behind her ear, taking a tough swig from her bitter liquor. Sitting nonchalantly in one of the corners of the rundown Blind Pig, the half-Elf’s thoughts meandered upon her new job. Paying another visit to the Corone Rangers in Concordia, they sent her away with a track and destroy mission – apparently, some leathery brown thing got into their headquarters and stole a smidge of the riches they keep hidden.

On the down side, the Rangers didn’t appreciate her coming back without the elf researcher she was supposed to be bodyguarding (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=16520). She couldn’t blame them though, it was just that she couldn’t find him. As well, everyone knew the Rangers had jobs to offer, but they often didn’t have much to give. On the plus side… actually, there was not plus side.

Stretching her translucent butterfly wings, the appendages spreading out to a beautiful full bloom, the warrior scoffed. Bad jobs with bad pay was Radasanth’s cruel truth.

Not like 300 gold is a big deal, she thought, boredly scanning the dirty tavern.

Some hair old man was passed by the back, puke on his face and flies excitedly buzzing around him. Others were silently drinking their beverages, staring into dead space like corpses. The faint smell of old alcohol and men wafted through the air. The roof was aging, the walls looked crumbly and the people were unsavory. But Veatrix wasn’t a nitpicky noble or rich royalty; she herself was a character of… questionable honor, even if she looked like an oversized forest fairy. Her clothes were stained with earth and blood, and she looked just a little unwashed – prim and proper just wasn’t the style for a simple penniless adventurer. She wouldn’t be doing such a sordid errand for such a small amount if she had coins in her pocket.

Taking another mannish swig, Veatrix murmured to herself quietly. “Whatever.”

[Harrier]

Wil’s attention immediately turned towards the newest entry into the tavern. She was wearing dirty clothes, but she was not like the rest of the debris that had collected in the Blind Pig. Under different circumstances, he might have just stared lustily at the voluptuous winged woman, but considering where he was, he was just struck with disbelief. “First memory lapses… now illusions,” he moaned silently. “What next?”

Soon, Wil found that this woman, wings and all, was no illusion. Flesh and blood, she sat down at the bar, seemingly unperturbed as the vomit soaked man got up and passed her by. Wil stared incredulously, unaware of himself.

It didn’t take long for Wil to figure, appearances aside, this new woman couldn’t have been nearly as dainty as her wings might have suggested. Impulsively, Wil reached into his pocket and touched his stolen loot. “Still there,” he said, biting his lip. There were only two reasons why an attractive woman would be in a bar like the Blind Pig at all, and because she had yet to have solicited any of the patrons he highly doubted that it was the less intimidating of the two reasons.

“No need to overreact,” Wil said, trying to calm himself in vain. “If she’s here for you, she’d have done something by now. You don’t even have a weapon on…” It was possible she was there to recover the treasure that he had stolen, but it could have been any one of the other actual miscreants that was her target. “She might even just be here to drink…” he reminded himself. Though Wil didn’t particularly want to, he knew that he was going to have to strike up a conversation with the new stranger, if only to ascertain that she wasn’t looking for him. “And if she is, I’d at least find out something about what happened.”

As Wil approached the woman, he contemplated buying her a drink. Though he had no intentions to flirt, he figured that could be his easiest opportunity to strike up a conversation. However, it had its own risks. Attractive women in their early twenties did not take the advances of thirty two year old men with tired eyes very seriously. Realizing the futility in flirting just as he reached the winged newcomer, Wil was forced to think quickly, something his bedraggled brain was not all that willing to do.

“There’s not going to be a shipment of real ale in here for a while,” he blurted, though it was common knowledge that the Blind Pig had been serving homemade swill for over a month. “With Underwood and everything. Did you hear, even thefts are getting more common…”

If he had only a moment’s privacy, Wil would have slapped himself on the head for being so stupid.

[Veatrix]

(a collaborative effort, all bunnying approved)

Stupid men do stupid things.

“There’s not going to be a shipment of real ale in here for a while. With Underwood and everything. Did you hear, even thefts are getting more common…”

Most men, despite Veatrix’s Thayne-given good looks and natural feminine sexuality, steered clear of the half-Elf. Her dirty clothes, sheathed weapon and magical prowess clearly evident in her swagger all turned her into quite the intimidating young lady. The puke-wearing man passed her by, his tangy rotten smell coloring the air around her – but he was smart to walk out the doors, she wasn’t in the best of moods. Silver eyelashes framing her sunken eyes, tired from all the walking and talking and leather creature searching, she sighed audibly as some lowly shmuck blurted out something completely irrelevant to her. Another swig, another sigh, she irritably turned her head to the pesky fellow.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to think,” she said.

The simpleton grumbled quietly to himself. "Now really, is thinking that hard that I'm disturbing you from it?"

“Thinking is a lot easier without your… type clouding up my space.” Testily, Veatrix’s hands impulsively toyed around with Gainsborough, the steel short sword dangling comfortably at her hip.

Wil backed away as she went for her weapon. He realized that if he was going to find out anything about this woman's intentions he would need to think quickly. Fortunately, the threat of force gave him the adrenaline he needed.

"Okay... okay," Will said, putting his hands in front of his face as he spoke. "I never knew all you thieves got so testy..."

Smirking, Veatrix raised her un-refreshing drink, a toast to his timid fear.

“But today, I’m not the thief.”

Relatively sure he had avoided a fight, Wil reciprocated the smile. "What are you today then?"

The little prick was comparable to one of the buzzing flies following vomit guy out the Blind Pig doors. Annoying, insectile, unnoticeable but ultimately unavoidable. It might have been his lack of any masculine charm, or his simple way of speaking to complete strangers, or the bitter booze frothing in her pint mug, but Veatrix’s tongue loosened up wonderfully.

He’s just some guy, she thought, studying the man’s forgettable form. What harm could he be?

“I’m just another lowly shmuck like you,” she said, taking a hearty swig. “Only difference is, the Rangers want me to find some… thing. I don’t even know what it is. Brown, leathery, really fucking ugly. Stole something they owned. It’s stupid – they don’t want it back, they just want to teach it a lesson. See their laughable manifesto plastered all over the province? It’s all hypocrisy.”

Running her fingers through her messy hair, Veatrix yawned and motioned for the pesky fellow to sit. It was definitely the loosening effect of the Blind Pig’s bad-tasting wares.

[Harrier]

(Bunny approved. This post was also collaborative).

Though Wil was not brown nor leathery, and he at least hoped he wouldn’t have been classified as “really fucking ugly,” he had stolen something. The woman’s words had caught his attention, but more than anything else, he needed her gone. If she was after one thief, it was likely she’d take the bounty on another. While Wil had no way of knowing whether there was a bounty on his head or not, his guilty conscience had all but convinced him that there was. That guilty mindset now told Wil that the longer the butterfly winged woman stayed around his part of Radasanth, the more likely it would be that she punished him for the crime that he did commit.

Now, the former produce trader was completely out of his element. In the past, if a suspected bounty hunter would have entered a tavern, Wil would have left. The snide remark was something that never would have found its way out of his mouth earlier. Letting out a slight exhale that he hoped the woman mistook for relief from fear of her blade, Wil sat down.

“Logan Wade,” he offered, figuring that a pseudonym was best under the circumstance. “And I think I may be able to help. There was another thief I’ve run into today…”

"Veatrix Bane," she replied, as he took the wooden seat adjacent to her. "And please, anything on this leathery thief of the Rangers would be great. I don't want to be stuck on this job for too long."

Wil smiled. He realized that this was his chance. For a moment, he considered suggesting that he had seen the leathery man head on a ship for Raiaera, but quickly dismissed that possibility. That ruse would be unlikely to appeal to Veatrix Bane. Given her seeming disinterest in the heist to begin with, Wil doubted she would be willing to go all the way across the ocean to elven lands for the Corone Rangers. With all the problems happening in Corone, he even doubted that she’d be willing to go as far as Underwood. The best he could do was get her farther away from him in Radasanth.

“I think I may have seen him,” Wil offered. “He was a strange man, mostly leather covered, maybe even made of leather or something. I saw him over around the other end of town…”

"Seriously? The other edge of town? That's a long ways away from here...," Veatrix said, an incredulous look plastered on her pristine face. Anybody who'd been to Radasanth knows just how massive the city is. "These Rangers aren't paying me enough for all this walk."

Wil wasn’t sure how to take that remark. Glad he hadn’t mentioned Raiaera or even Underwood as potential locations for the leather man, he debated whether he should encourage Veatrix to go on her fools’ errand. It would get her out of his tavern if she went, but Wil was beginning to doubt whether he had much to worry from the winged woman. He had never imagined that a bounty hunter could be so utterly unmotivated and casual about their job.

“It’s not that far,” he decided to say. “I work around there at night and come back on feet. And I saw him at an abandoned old house not too far from the Citadel and the Randa slums… It’s not too far if you know where you’re going.” Immediately, Wil wondered if he hadn’t inadvertently volunteered himself to go along with Veatrix. He certainly hoped not, in truth he didn’t know whether the abandoned house he had mentioned existed or not. It had just flowed off his tongue impulsively.

Wil was beginning to detest his impulses.

[Veatrix]

(from here on out, bunnying approved)

Looking up from the bubbling booze halfway down her mug, Veatrix finally came across a lead. After walking and talking to various people around Radasanth for maybe a few hours, this simple shmuck in the Blind Pig gave her some information that was perfect for the Rangers’ mission. It wasn’t fun conversing to people about some leathery man, while the bright morning sun beat down on everyone’s backs. Sure, we wasn’t ecstatic about the job or the pay, nor was she in any great mood to complete her task to the fullest, but after a grueling search, a clue was a clue.

“An abandoned house? Typical,” she said, rubbing her forehead with mild frustration. “Why can’t thieves these days be more original… it’s like they’re taking tips from someone who’s never stolen before.”

Clearing her throat, Veatrix raised her cup with conviction and chugged the whole glass of liquor down, the bitter alcohol running down her throat, the burning sensation a beautiful relief. Some of the tavern’s patrons watched her curiously, unsure what to think about a forest fairy downing a whole mug of strong drink. Across from her, Logan remained silent, his fingers running through each other nervously.

“Come with me then.”

A hint of hesitation came across his face. “Oh, but the abandoned house is quite easy to find – just behind the Citadel, there’s a road, turn left-“

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ll need someone to show me there.”

“Really, you won’t need me to be either. I’ll get in your way-“

Completely disregarding his last piece of conversation, Veatrix pushed her wooden chair away and walked over to the tavernkeeper silently wiping a few mugs down. Setting her finished drink on the countertop, she nodded at the bulky old man. Fixing herself up, pressing her dirty clothes down and shaking off her blonde hair, she motioned for the poor shmuck to the Blind Pig’s doors. With her other hand, she tapped Gainsborough ever so lightly.

Violence is the key to everything

“Logan. Let’s go.”

Opening the doors, the early afternoon sunlight poured down on the two – it was likely around 2 o’clock. Radasanth was as busy as any other day, people bustling around buying and selling their merchandise. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed in with the unpleasant sweaty scent of people. It was crowded, smelly and very noisy – typical Radasanth on a typical day. Giving Logan one look as they stepped outside, Veatrix followed him obediently, criss-crossing around people and turning various corners. He walked fast, too fast, like he was desperately trying to lose her, but the half-Elf didn’t mind. She was a trained warrior and a good merc, speedy ones were simply part of the job.

It wasn’t shocking news to find that Veatrix was completely unmotivated by her job – it was a simple job anyway. Find and kill. The brown ugly thing couldn’t have been that strong anyway, she was a veteran adventurer for crying out loud. She’d killed hundreds of creatures before that day, it wouldn’t have been any different. All her training and skill would gloriously overshadow whatever the beast might dish out. Or so she hoped to believe. Nevertheless, she needed the money, even if she had more than enough to live on for quite some time. Money makes the world go round, no matter what dimension you lived in.

Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes after the Blind Pig, Logan quickly turned another corner and looked at her expectantly. Veatrix gazed upon the abandoned house that stood before them: it was brown, leathery, really fucking ugly. Exactly what her little creature apparently looked like. The house was so rundown, it looked fragile to the touch. Wood was rotting everywhere, and metal rusted, but she noticed that underneath the lack of hospitality, it might have been a cozy little place to live in. A dead tree wilted ominously on the house lawn, its yellowing grass and black flowers casting a wonderfully eerie atmosphere. Even the sun seemed to hide behind the clouds this part of Radasanth.

“This house?”

“Yup,” he said, without missing a beat.

“So typical.”

[Harrier]

Wil was glad that there was an abandoned building where he had said there was. He wasn’t surprised. They were in a rougher part of the city, one where things had gotten even tougher once the Civil War had started. Many of the rich and middle class took their mobile possessions and had left for somewhere safer, while the poor continued on as they always had, just in tougher times. They were not too far from the slums where Wil had first moved to when he his family had arrived from Raiaera. It was an area that Wil knew well, or at least better than the part of Radasanth he had resettled in.

Though his first instinct was to wait outside, he doubted that Veatrix would allow him that courtesy. If she would drag him with her all the way across Radasanth, she would want him to go into the house with her. “She might even think it’s a trap if I don’t,” Wil realized, knowing that such an impression wouldn’t be as far off from the truth as he’d want it to be.

As he and Veatrix entered the house, he began to worry. Unlike most abandoned houses, there were no signs that the homeless had moved in. Given the situation utside, Wil would have expected to see at least a few make shift fireplaces and lice ridden bedrolls scattered around the house. There were empty bottles of booze collecting in the unkempt lawn, no sigh of a dirty, half washed tunic hanging out of a window to dry.

If he didn’t know better, Wil would have thought this abandoned house was actually a hiding place for thieves. Wishing that he had a weapon with him, Wil looked around the house, off put by the sinister emptiness. But for a wooden arm chair that had been splintered in two, the house’s sitting room was completely empty. The floor boards creaked, dust balls had settled in the corner, and paint was falling off, and there were all the traditional signs of neglect, so a chair that had likely been shattered after the initial owners left was at least of some respite. However, Wil shuddered to think that it had most likely been broken in a fight- a fight likely held among the gang of thieves that had claimed this building.

Unsure whether he should or not, Wil shared this thought with Veatrix. “I’m almost sure this is the right place now we’re inside it,” he said. “A place like this would be full of homeless if it wasn’t for the thieves…”

Just then a cellar door caught his eye. Wil didn’t know why it captivated him. The door was normal, at one time sturdy but now a bit worm eaten, with indentations of finger prints charred around the edge. There was also a staircase heading to the second floor, but for some reason, Wil wanted to head down to the basement.

“If thieves are hiding anything here, they’re hiding it down there,” he offered, knowing that Veatrix would make the decision. He didn’t intend on going anywhere in this building without her.

[Veatrix]

There wasn’t really much of the abandoned house to properly call it a “house.” A splintered chair lay in a furniture-less living room, dust bunnies collecting in the corners like scabs. Spider webs decorated the lonely place, and some parts of the wall looked chewed on and or completely gnawed off. A garden snake had made one corner of the room its home, its lithe serpentine body curled up comfortably, paying the intruders no attention. Every step the duo took, the floorboards creaked ominously. The air was dank, the place drab and the overall atmosphere was exceedingly dark. Definitely a thieves’ den, if you asked any adventurer in town.

Mention of the thieves’ treasure in the basement made Veatrix’s ears perk up. Maybe this job isn’t so bad after all. Scanning the perimeter of the place, she checked around for any sign of thieving life – no thief would leave his treasure unguarded. That, to Veatrix’s knowledge, was the main rule in becoming a thief. In the lucky instance that they did, Veatrix would be getting much more than she bargained for – always a pleasure to work for the Rangers.

Smiling at the thought of wonderful pickpocket treasures, Veatrix whispered. “You’re not as useless as you look.”

Heeding Logan’s words, she led him into the basement. Opening the sturdy cellar door leading to what could be the thieves weeks, even months, worth of work, Logan and Veatrix climbed down spiraling steps. Step after step, creak after creak, cobweb after cobweb. A couple spiders got caught in Veatrix’s blonde hair, and she had to flatten her butterfly wings severely just to fit into the narrowing stone corridor further underground, but treasure was treasure. If the Rangers wouldn’t pay her well, at least she could find a few more pieces of gold for herself. He was right, thieves would usually store their items anywhere close to the ground: it seemed to be a thief’s natural instinct to remain as close to Mother Earth as possible.

As they climbed down the spiral staircase, the natural lighting of the outside slowly faded away until all they were left with was pitch blackness. Logan moaned when he couldn’t distinguish when his eyes were open and when they were closed. Obviously not wanting to prance around in the dark, Veatrix raised her right hand and murmured her lighting spell.

“Illumina.”

A simple ball of light coalesced from Veatrix’s hand, lighting it a holy glow. There was no heat from the ball, a usual characteristic of the spell, but Veatrix dulled down its power. All they needed was a little bit of light, there was no use in accidentally searing her companions arm off. The spell was effective enough to bring them safely down the stairs, and bright enough to light up maybe up to five feet away from them. Using her hand like a candle, they reached the bottom of the staircase, their feet stepping on solid stone foundation.

[Harrier]

The moment after Veatrix had illuminated the cellar, Wil’s eyes opened wide. If he had needed any more evidence about the existence of thieves before, he no longer did. The room was filled with bags of gold and bank notes, scattered around haphazardly. That wasn’t all, there were pilfered weapons, lain across the room, some still coated with blood. There were also cheap and gaudy baubles, the kind of which were often seen in the hair of little girls from the lower and middle class that didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the loot, almost as if the thieves that hd brought them there coud not tell the difference between a painted imitation and real jewels. Even so, there was certainly a king’s ransom in the room.


“There’s your three hundred gold pieces,” Wil offered, hoping that Veatrix would take this opportunity to steal the bounty and give up on her work for the Rangers. “There’s probably more here than there would be in chasing after your leather man…”

Wil hoped that his tone didn’t seem too hopeful, or otherwise fearful. There was no way of knowing if the leathery man would return sooner or later. Considering that he had enough unearned gold of his own already, he had no intention of taking anything. Instead, he just wanted to get out of the situation he was in, caught between a bounty hunter and the thieves that she was after. Looking around at all the gold that had accumulated there, he knew no band of thieves could have accumulated that much by just blind luck. And if somehow this was the achievement of a single leathery man, it was that much more impressive, and that man was that much more deadly.

“I think I’ll go check upstairs for more gold,” Wil offered. “Just see how much there is in this place.” Though he said he’d be investigating further, that was hardly his intention. Wil just wanted a plausible story, so that when he turned around and left the house Veatrix would take no effort to stop him. “There are probably a lot of rooms up there too…” Wil continued, without knowing whether or not what he was saying was true. “And we don’t want to stay here too long, especially if there’s a whole gang of thieves your target is working with…”

With that, Wil began to scurry up the stairs, hoping that he could get out of earshot before Veatrix said anything.

[Veatrix]

Logan didn’t even have to say a word before Veatrix dove into the thieves’ quarry like a child in a candy store. Her illuminated hand danced rapidly in the darkness, too excited for its own good. Platinum, gold and silver coins were scattered everywhere in the darkness, gleaming bright, calling out to the half-Elf. Crowns, tiaras, robes, belts and all kinds of magical-looking clothing lay aimlessly in the dank, stone basement. Necklaces, anklets, bracelets and all kinds of wonderful accessories were everywhere, while various weapons, some with blood still staining them, waited for a warrior to pick them up and use them. Axes, hammers, short swords, long swords, katanas, daggers, blades, scythes, wrist guards, nunchuks, whips, shields, helmets, bracers, hauberks – so many useful things to take! Her hands shaking profusely in excitement, Veatrix tried to grab as many things as she could.

“This job is so much better than I thought,” Veatrix said aloud, feeling the coins and their exponential financial power through her fingertips. A giggle escaped her lips.

Whoever said that money doesn’t make you happy was seriously wrong.

Money makes the world go round, as they say. And for the first time in years, Veatrix smiled with pure joy. Lustful joy, but joy nonetheless.

She didn’t really want anything in particular – she wanted everything in particular. Veatrix stuffed her pockets and her small bag, where her Lestrange spell book hid quietly, with mounds of coins. Her eyes moved so fast her hands literally couldn’t keep up. She grabbed a few jeweled shirts and skirts, nice replacements for the dirty clothing she was wearing. Her hands moved towards a short sword that gleamed in the darkness, leaning against the wall. The sword had an ice blue blade, glistening with magical intensity, while its hilt was ebony black, seemingly made of precious steels and stones. Satisfied, she grabbed the weapon, balancing it in her left hand like a seasoned pro. Gainsborough has a new friend. Grabbing one last giant emerald with her illuminated right hand, the precious stone the size of her whole palm, she smiled greedily to herself. The jewel dyed her magical light green, setting the dark basement with a mesmerizing jade glow.

“Oh my god, Logan,” she murmured, her voice in a trance. “I’m going to be so filthy rich…”

Turning around, Veatrix couldn’t find the pesky little shmuck. She brought her hand in a circle, fully lighting the rest of the basement, with her left hand raised with her new sword in place, a necessary precaution. Nobody knew what jumped out in the darkness. Her silver eyelash-rimmed eyes squinted to focus, but she couldn’t find him. Looking up from where they came from, Veatrix could see sunlight peeping out from a small crack, up the spiral staircase. Grunting, the half-Elf gathered all her things, new treasures and all, and proceeded to the abandoned building’s first floor. She took one last look at the thieves’ quarry and climbed the steps.

I don’t need to find him, she finally thought, feet going step by step on the stone staircase. I’m just gonna get outta here, screw the Rangers.

[Harrier]

The moment that Wil had reached the top floor, he heaved a sigh of relief. Everything he had been afraid of now seemed to be over. Gratefully, he exited the house, walked straight past the garden of dying flowers and wiped his brow as he moved past the creaky gate. “Thank god,” was all he thought. Now, there was at least one less bounty hunter that might be looking for him.

However, Wil’s relief was fleeting. He knew there would be more bounty hunters, and every situation would work itself out as easily as the one that had just passed. He knew, very shortly, that there were going to be consequences for his actions, either the thieves would come after him because they had thought he had stolen their things, or another bounty hunter would be coming his way. The thought overwhelmed him, especially as it occurred to the sometime amnesiac that he may have made his problems worse. The last thing he needed was to have the police and a mysterious leathery thief coming after him.

Grunting, Wil decided that he needed to take a moment to calm his nerves. He leaned up against an old tree facing the abandoned house. With a sigh, he mumbled to himself about needing a moment to catch his breath and then closed his eyes. Seconds later, Wil’s eyes opened, though they were no longer Wil’s eyes. They were the eyes of the leathery creature, with orange gobs of gooey flesh popping out from cracks in the weathered leathery skin. The brown skinned monster had Wil’s memories, but very little of his cognitive skills. Instead of being grateful that it had managed to escape a bounty hunter, it now took a more sinister interpretation. There was a woman, down in the cellar, taking the gold and items it had worked so hard to collect.

Wrathfully, the creature charged into the house, eager to reclaim what it believed belonged to it. It didn’t think much about negotiation or compromise, the creature’s radiation addled brain was not sophisticated enough to have such thoughts. The only thing it thought of was force, and it was not letting the butterfly winged woman escape with the things that it had struggled for.

Bellowing as it entered the house, it first spied Veatrix as she had just made her way up the stairs. It didn’t speak, even if it had wanted to, anything more than a few syllables would have been too difficult struggle. Instead, with hands that were beginning to emit hot radiation, the creature charged straight for Veatrix, swiping at her with a huge clubbing blow, blocking her from attempting an exit out the door from which she arrived.

[Veatrix]

The sunlight from a bright Radasanth afternoon embraced her. Being away from the pitch darkness of the abandoned house’s basement did wonders to one’s soul.

As well, brown and orange skin waited for her, screaming hell and high waters at her.

The leathery creature appeared before her, a brutish, ugly thing covered in browning skin and lava-like pimples all across its body. Bellowing angrily, she looked at the horrid thing, then at her new-found treasures, and back at its angry visage. It looked humanoid, but it certainly didn’t act like it, its hands swiping at her madly. Without a doubt, this was the Rangers’ disruptive little friend. And it seemed like it really, really like the shiny things.

“Uhhhh… this is mine now!” Veatrix said, wholly unimpressed by the creature’s lack of humanity. Brandishing her new blue-blade sword, the half-Elf sidestepped away from the door’s opening to the basement, in case the thing pushed her down.

Hoping to slow it down, impulsively the half-Elf threw her giant jade stone at the creature. Her right hand, still gleaming with her Illumina spell, making its light green through the refractory properties of the stone, sent the rock flying towards the beast. Through the air it danced, hoping for something to hit. Before she realized just how much money she threw away on a whim, the jade stone simply fell to the floor as it collided with the leathery skin. It didn’t even make a dent – not that it mattered. The creature, aggravated by the projectile precious stone, smashed it powerfully, turning what could have been 100,000 gold coins into 100,000 dust particles.

Veatrix winced at the waste. “Ugh! That could have bought me a house!”

Ignoring the destroyed value on the dusty wooden floor, she turned an angry head. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by a simple stone, that was very un-warrior-like. A stringy web tangled into Veatrix’s face, but she didn’t mind – the battle had only just begun, she needed to figure out how to get rid of this stupid leathery thing. Evading its clumsy lunges and punches, she ran across the hallway, floorboards creaking with each step she took. In her wake was the leathery creature, monstrously roaring after her. Reaching her destination, Veatrix clutched her new blade expertly in her right hand as the Illumina spell powered down.

“Come and get me!”

She ran up the stairs of the abandoned household, each step seemingly make the house complain. The floor squeaked in pain with every step she took – it was almost certain that the leathery creature would simply fall through the staircase if it attempted to climb up. Even Veatrix was unsure if her weight was enough for the stairs to withstand. Reaching the second floor, with the beast bellowing angrily at the bottom of the stairs, Veatrix swished her new blade around playfully, a grin on her face. She was completely underestimating the thing, and to her advantage, her taunts were working perfectly.