Bad For Business (Closed)

[Ivory Evil]

Closed to Silence Sei and Aeryn Sunkiller

The South Road, a path travelled so often it should have a speed limit. Van, the Ivory Evil, often found himself trekking the withered dirt road, making exhausting trips either to or from Radasanth. It wasn't the ideal way to spend his afternoons, but lately things weren't going to well for in Underwood. The well dressed young man couldn't help but travel to the big city, due to Underwood's sudden decrease in work.

The road was surprisingly busy today, despite the minimal traffic he had encountered in the weeks prior. Already he had met two elves, a handful of dwarves, and a demon who just wouldn't shut the hell up; but none of them could compare to the human he found himself face to face with. The man was about Van's height and wore a thick brown coat, that complimented his grey hair quite well. Van hastily established that the older man was a farmer, but judging by the almost empty hand cart he was pushing along the dirt road, he wasn't very successful.

"Good afternoon sir, can I interest you in..."

"No buddy, sorry, but I'm not interested in what your selling." Van waved his hands, signaling the old farmer to move along. "I hate to say it but I'm on a strict liquid diet." It was the truth, if it wasn't blood of liquor he wasn't having it.

"Oh, I'm not selling my produce sir." The farmer responded in a tone of desperation that quickly drew Van back into the conversation. "I'm selling my farm, the darn thing's brought nothing but bad luck."

"Hate to say it pal but I lack not only the gold, but also the passion to invest in a farm." Van looked down to his flawless ivory suit, wondering what had alerted the man that he could ever be interested in owning a farm. "Maybe you'd be better off asking the folks in Underwood, I'm sure you'll find someone interested."

"Well partner that's the problem, the land seems to lack the blessing of Wyron. I can't grow a single thing in the damn place. Can you believe that? Four acres and not a single sprout." The failed farmer paused to scratch the grey stubble below his chin. "Truth be told I'm just trying to get rid of it, cut my loses and move on." He paused, scanning the coin pouch that dangled loosely from Van's belt loop. He slid his arm across his lips, smearing away the small trace of sliva that dribbled down. "What do you say about giving me what you got? I'll sign the deed over right here and now. If anything it'll cut the time you spend on the south road in half."

When the grey haired man put it that way, it didn't sound like a bad investment at all. Van took a second to think about it, an inquisitive smirk formulated on his pale face. He quickly realized that deals like these didn't come around every day. "Alright buddy you got yourself a deal."

This better be worth it! Van thought he watching curiously as the old man shuffled through his travel bag.

From the leather bag the man pulled out a small tan envelope, a book, and a folded map. He quickly removed from the envelope the deed to his farm, which seemed rather offical, and rested it on the book. In a hasty manner he scribbled the name 'Hank R. Finkly,' and pointed to a vacant line. "Sign here partner and it's all yours," which Van did. With that all said and done Hank circled the farms location on the map.

"Alright, nice doing business with you man." Van responded, casually tossing the coin purse in Hank's direction.

"It's been a pleasure, and if you're ever crossing through the Countryside look me up." Hank scoffed, tucking the coins deep into his leather bag. "I'd be more than happy to hear what you did with the place."

When everything was said and done Van turned north, squinting down the sun scortched road ahead. With a skip and a newly discovered pep, he continued his trek, which included a pit stop at his farm.

[Sunkiller]

Trudging slowly along the South Road, Aeryn Sunkiller appeared to be in a passive mood. Her Akashiman features were drawn into a lax mask empty of expression; no smile or scowl. Her jade eyes were distant and unfocused, her dark chestnut hair whipped softly in the slow breeze where it had escaped her high-placed ponytail. Her armor glinted duly under the sunlight, all blacks and purples save where the dust had gathered thickly enough to hide the reflection of the metal. A simple sackcloth bag hung from her right shoulder, and the sounds of objects rustling against each other came from it with every step.

Somewhere behind her, two corpses shambled slowly. Their movements were jerky with rigormortis, the smell of their rotted and decayed tissues particularly pungent in the otherwise clean air. Every so often, one of them would try to take a breath. She could only assume it to be some left over instinct from life. The breath would disturb the feeble remains of the vocal chords, causing that inarticulate groan the undead were so well known for.

"Uhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnghhhhhh."

She sighed as the sound carried through the air from behind her. She would have killed the cursed things, had it been within her abilities to do so. Both of her weapons had been lost in a recent incident; confiscated by the law. Suspected of practicing dark arts and Necromancy, it had been an erroneous assumption that she worked for Xem'Zund. Erroneous, but not completely stupid. In a time like this, it was vitally important to investigate any and all reports of the dead rising. It was a mistake she had been forced to deal with several times over lately. No, I do not work for the Necromancer bastard stirring up the shit-storm in Raiaera. No, I'm not going to kill your town. Well, not unless you give me cause.

The two undead corpses that followed her along were both human, and both of them male. Though neither of them would follow her commands, they also wouldn't attack her. She didn't really understand how Xem'Zund's curse worked. She only knew the effect. The creatures would find her, no matter where she ran. And they would follow her. And when they finally caught up with her... they'd stare at her. That was all. They'd simply stand about ten feet away and stare. She'd tried communicating with them. She'd tried killing them. Nothing produced a reaction. She could literally set them on fire, and they'd only watch her until they had burned away. While it obviously had certain benefits -scaring townsfolk, appearing stronger than she was, etc- it also meant that she rarely had a chance to smell anything other than death. The bastards stank.

A pair of passing people paused and pointed, their pink skin turning pale. As she approached, they began screaming nonsense and backing away, completely forgetting the cart they had been hauling behind them. Aeryn sighed and drew in a deep breath.

"Hey! Shut the fuck up!" She bellowed at them. Long years serving in the Akashiman Royal Army had toned her vocal chords. She could and would be heard above the general din of war; a slight wind and screaming certainly wouldn't over-ride it. The pair of travelers went silent, but both kept retreating away from her. They wore simple clothing. Browns and off-whites, wool sewn into simple but effective designs. Farmers, she guessed.

As she passed the cart, she paused and looked inside. It was a simple wooden construction, and seemed as rickety as one would expect. Inside, several sackcloth bags were stuffed with vegetables and select fruits, apples among them. She started to reach into the bag of apples, but stopped when a cruel thought pulled her lips into a smile. She looked up at the cowering couple.

"Do you mind? I haven't eaten in days. I'm hungry." Her voice was empty of emotion, though the couple flinched visibly at being addressed by the Necromancer.

"Uuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnghhhhhhhhh." One of the zombies intoned behind her, mournfully. The effect was beautifully entertaining; she was reasonably sure one of the farmers actually soiled himself.

"Take anything! Please don't hurt us." The other answered.

Aeryn smiled and took three of the apples. She dropped two of them into the bag she carried over her shoulder, and began munching at the third as she moved along. She called over her shoulder as she moved away, "Hey, this is really good!"

The two had likely scurried beyond earshot however. The reality of their fear was amusing to the girl. If not for her efforts in the Royal Army this past year, they would likely have been dead by now, their bodies animated play things at the disposal of Xem'Zund's agent. But if it got her free food once in awhile, that fear was fine enough.

Ahead, a farmhouse loomed at the side of the road. It looked as good a place as any to stop and rest for awhile, though several details stood out to her. Though the farmhouse itself had seen some obvious activity lately, the complete lack of growing goods in the fields around it made her frown slightly in puzzlement. It subsided quickly enough however, as she didn't really care about farms or anything of the sort. She absolutely loathed vegetables, and fruits were only slightly better. She could live just fine on meat for the rest of her life. She preferred her steaks, all meat really, barely dead and still bleeding.

When she reached the front door of the farmhouse, she knocked on it. As expected, no one answered. Though she normally would have kicked in the door and made herself at home inside, she merely dropped do the ground and rested her back against the wall. She didn't have the energy for destructive feats of bad-assery right now.

"Hey, sexy, kick in that door, would ya?" Aeryn pointed over her shoulder.

"Unnnnnnnnngh?"

Aeryn turned her head to the side, her eyebrow lifted at the zombie. Did that dead body just ask me a question? For real? She'd never heard any of the undead she attracted use a clear inflection in its cliche moans. Eh, probably just a trick of the vocal chords.

Assume her to be waiting at the farmhouse. Sorry for the length!

[Silence Sei]

"So you think people are saying this farm is evil as some sort of ploy?" Anita Orlouge asked her father as she dug an apple from her backpack. "I am almost certain," the mute said as the two traveled down The South Road. "The farm is in an area known for flourishing plant life. Why then, can it's farmer not grow any fruits or vegetables?"

Anita handed her father an apple as she spoke again. "So your first thought went to bandits. Care to explain how you came to this conclusion, Papa?" Sei nodded.

"The South Road, the path we are currently taking to get to this farm, is the safest route through Concordia to Radasanth. Merchants and the elite favor this path because it has wide enough space to defend from attackers. Not only that, but the farm is the only thing standing between robbers and a shortcut straight into the forest."

"I get it," Anita said as they brushed past a couple of fellow travelers, "you think they are sabotaging the area to gain accsess to the forest. Without that farm, there's nobody to warn of incoming attacks on the travellers!" "Or even worse," Sei said, "It could give people a chance to surprise and scramble the Radasanth army before they could mount a counterattack."

Anita nodded as she pulled her holy water from the bag, drinking a bit of it to wash down her apple. "I believe the farmer is to sell his property rather shortly. He is without fault, as if I were anyone but the Hero of Radasanth, I would pack up shop and get out of dodge is I thought my farm was evil."

"But you are and so you're not." Anita smirked a wry grin as she glanced over to two terrified looking people. "Gee, they look like they have seen a ghost or something," Anita mummbled as Sei turned around. "That's why you're coming with me, daughter. I can still slightly sense demon and undead auras. A perk from being a former vampire. You, on the other hand, have a natural gift for such things. I've seen you detect a demon from over five miles away when you were concentrating. I need your help to make sure no evil truly is trying to take over this farm."

Anita was stunned at her fathers blunt honesty. "I-I'll do my best, Papa." Anita said as she closed her eyes and began to concentrate.

All of a sudden, the girls eyes shot up and she gripped the long cloth covering Sei's right arm. "Papa!" she screamed, "They're already there! Two of them, undead! I'm absolutely sure! There's a third there with them, but I still sense some humanity in it. It's not as strong as the other two. They may be turning whoever it is right now!"

Sei looked to his daughter and nodded. Without a second wasted, Sei scooped the teen onto his back and began to take off. He did not nearly have the same vampyric speed that he used to, but the Dragon of Drantrak was still fast on his toes. They would make it to the farm in a matter of minutes, quite the feat given that they were still two miles off. The mute's daughter closed her eyes and prayed that they were not too late, that she had not already failed her father.

[BattleMage]

((Posted with wrong character sorry))

[Ivory Evil]

Glancing over the map Hank had given him, Van came to the conclusion he was getting close. His new property awaited and he quickly judged by the surrounding thicket that it was in a prime location. As he trudged onward, he was suddenly overtaken by a tainted stench. The air around the road reeked of death and left a foul taste in Van's throat. He didn't boast knowledge of nature, but could easily determine when something didn't smell right, literally.

What is that?! The ivory suited man casually brisked his hand over his own butt, trying to see if he had soiled himself.

Just as he concluded that the smell was coming from elsewhere, a tall blurred figure came into vision. It took the shape of a two story farmhouse. With a half cocked grin Van tucked the map into his coat pocket and picked up his pace to a jog. He had never owned anything, save the clothes on his back and the sword at his waist.

The closer he came to the wooden construct, the more his excitement dwindled. Hank wasn't lying when he said the plot was completely void of life. The trees and brush that were scattered along the South Road stopped just before his property line. Something wasn't right about the place and Van was determined to find the problem.

Within a stones throw of the door he could see the motionless frame of a young lady, leaning against the farmhouse. What's this?! Did the old man leave me a housewarming gift? Van perked his lips before realizing the lady wasn't alone. It seemed that there were two other figures, one looked like he was about to bust down the heavy door of the house.

"Hey what the hell do you think you're doing!?" Without realizing it Van's hand had drifted to his side and was now firmly gripped around the handle of his katana, The Spinetapper. If Van was an artist than this blade was not only the brush, but also his palette. It's cold flawless steel had dealt many deaths and been through many hardships.

These son of a bitches better get to explaining, before I get to cutting.

A furious intensity burnt in Van's abdomen, he was ready to fight and die for his land.