Facade: The Masks We Wear

[Revenant]

Solo

Scara Brae Island, 16 months ago …

The thick underbrush of the Brokenthorn Forest grabbed at William’s traveling cloak as he crashed through it. Slender wooden fingers rasped like sandpaper against the charging revenant, twitching and flexing as if sensing his presence just in time to wave at his passing. The tattered fringes of the trailing cloak blew behind William like a wraith on the wind, flowing roughly through the sea of supple limbs.

It happened in an instant. One particularly long and lucky branch managing to catch firm on the billowing wool, maintaining its hold against the force of William’s momentum and jerking the revenant to a halt.

Damn it all, William’s mind shrieked as he whirled on the offending branch. Seeing his cloak suspended in mid-air behind him like an offering from the forest itself, William had to question his wisdom in wearing the heavy wool cloak in the first place.

It wasn’t the first time he had done so.

As if anyone were around to see me anyway, he cursed. Lips parting in a feral snarl, William impatiently gripped the cloak with both hands and heaved. The dyed green wool of the cloak parted with a sharp groaning tear.

Just another hole, the words in the back of his head tried to soothe his annoyance to no avail.

“Bah,” the revenant spat, dropping the cloak to fall freely behind him once more.

You should be moving, his reason called, but given a momentary respite, no matter how unintentional, William was going to use it.

A scan of the forest behind him showed the faint outline of the red-orange glow on the horizon. Its waving lines lit the rapidly darkening sky around it, and made the thick plume of ashen smoke dance to life. He had already run far from the site of the fire, and his idle curiosity wondered just how much farther he would have to run.

The grey scarf which he wore to cover his face had fallen into a pile around the base of his neck during his heedless plunge through the underbrush. Fully exposed, the burning pain of the blackened veins worming through the skin of his face contrasted with the cool evening air. He was panting like a bitch in heat, and each puff of breath expelled grey tinged clouds of heat into the cool evening air, proof that the black worms of corruption had spread to his lungs. But William didn’t need those signs to tell him that the excitement of his chase had woken the demon, he only needed to feel the molten heat of the demon’s power boiling under his skin.

Now that he had a free moment to take in his surroundings, William could finally sense how close to the surface the demon had come. He turned an ear to the forest behind him, fervently hoping that he would not hear any sign of the dogged pursuers who had been trailing him for the last several hours. It would take concentrated meditation to calm the waking demon, and right now time was the one commodity that he was sorely lacking. If only he could get enough time to calm himself and put the demon back to sleep.

If only.

And there they were. Practiced rangers, his pursuers only let the slightest bit of noise reach William, but it was enough. They had fanned out, using their presence to flush him out like a hunting fox. It was a cat-and-mouse game that they had been playing all afternoon, with William playing the part of the mouse. Each shift of their coordinated movements channeled his flight to slow him down and bring him closer to striking distance. And now they were almost upon him.

“Shit,” William cursed. He moved one hand to pull his scarf back up over his face, hiding the budding fangs that were now pushing into his mouth. He knew that the precious few moments of respite had cost him, but now he had a better idea of where the rangers were. The small bits of memories of his life as a woodsman before the transformation had allowed him to stay just out of their reach, but it couldn’t keep him out of their grasp forever.

But, his mind raced, I don’t need to evade them forever. Just until nightfall when they won’t be able to track me. Purpose renewed, William turned and restarted his headlong plunge into the brush.

As it was almost completely dark, William had to rely more and more upon his vestigial woodlore to keep him moving at top speed. Knowing that he would only trip himself up if he concentrated too much on his surroundings, William sink his conscious into his memories and let instinct take over.

The whole affair had started hours ago when he had come out of his demonically induced blackout to find a mutilated corpse greeting him. He knew in an instant that the woman’s death had been his doing, the sheer violence of her expiration leaving no doubt in his mind. Once, when he was younger and more ignorant of the harsh realities of life, he would have been rendered into a quivering, helpless mass at the surge of remorse he felt over the woman’s death. But the years of death and deplorable violence to which he had borne witness, all too often his own doing, had numbed him. When the demon woke, there was always someone who suffered.

After all, William mind spat as he dodged around a pair of tree trunks and jumped a small bush, it’s only going to come out if it has someone to play with.

But there had been something about this body which had struck a chord in William. Perhaps it was the bloody, tangled mess of her hair, or the hazel of her dull, unseeing eyes, perhaps something else. But whatever it had been, it had brought back memories of William’s of his long-dead wife. Memories that had been lost since the demon had been bound to his soul. It had moved him in a way he had not been moved in years, and as a sign of respect he had gathered her the woman’s remains and set her to pyre in her small cabin.

No good deed goes unpunished, however, and his moment of tender remorse had cost him. The smoke from the pyre had drawn the attention of a nearby patrol of rangers from Scara Brae City’s guards. The guards were excellent trackers and had hounded his trail all afternoon in a relentless march of justice.

William could feel the demon’s hot breath whispering in his ear as he ducked under a low branch, why not just give the killer to them?

Why not, indeed?

But William, as always, pushed back against the desires calling out from the back of his mind. Calling out for pain and calling out for blood.

No, he argued. No more innocents have to die today.

The demon’s laughter filled his mind in reply.

A crash from William’s left altered his path to the right, but a shout there pushed him left again. Focused as he was on the guards behind him, William failed to notice the clearing ahead of him until he was out of the foliage. The cleaning wasn’t large, but the jumbled mass of fallen wood, victims from a storm long past, made it impossible to maintain his run. It also meant that he had nowhere to hide, not that it would have done him any good.

“Shit,” William swore, doing his best to dodge around the heavy obstacles hidden by the clearing’s tall brush. The rangers had obviously herded him towards this spot, and he, in his blind flight, had played right into their hands. A feral growl escaped William’s cracked, blistering lips as a hidden root slid around his foot, pulling him to the ground.

A dozen guards silently entered the clearing behind him. Four of the men readied small crossbows, training them on the struggling revenant. The other eight approached him with swords held at the ready. The veiling darkness of evening cloaked them all in shadows.

“No,” William shouted at the guards as he pushed himself back to his feet. His voice was harsh and gravelly. “Get out of here.”

“Not likely,” the lead guard replied. “There’s no more running for you.”

“No,” William was pleading now, “you don’t understand.”

But the men continued to approach, weaving their way expertly through the pitfalls and hidden obstacles of the clearing. They remained resolute, impassive, and unmoved by the revenant’s pleas.

“Don’t you see that I’m not running from you?”

The first of the swordsmen was almost upon him when William broke. Fully roused, the demon surged forward, grabbing control of William’s body and flooding his mind with the red tide of its rage.

The last words William registered were whispered in his own voice, but quickly faded among the screams, “I’m running to keep you from me.”

[Revenant]

Present …

Scara Brae, William thought, watching the city rapidly swell. Though the morning sun hung low on the horizon, just barely starting its daily trek across the sky, William had already been up on deck for hours. He had stood, patiently, watching the restless lights of Scara Brae dim steadily in the face of the coming dawn. The city’s restlessness matched his own.

I was restless on my first journey here too, the revenant thought, looking back on his first ill-fated journey to the island. As an aimless wanderer, always moving to keep the fruits of his murderous desire from rooting too deeply, William had heard tales of Scara Brea island. The tales of mystics and powers were varied enough that, even if only a tenth of them were true, Scara Brae welcomed called to him with the siren song of redemption.

But coming to Scara Brae had proven disastrous. His problems had started on his ship to the island where, even though precautions had been taken, his demonic rage had nearly broken free. And it had only gone downhill from there. Scara Brae had indeed held more wonders and enthusiastic adventurers than he had ever seen, but that only meant that there was more for him to trip up on, and he had been forced, as always, to depart the island trailing a wake of blood.

His one true point of gratefulness for his first trip to Scara Brae had been that it was where he had learned about the Citadel of Radasanth in Corone, the place where he had spent the last year coming to terms with his nature as a revenant and the demonic power flowing through his veins.

It’s the small things that count, he smirked.

Where to go upon his departure from Corone had been painstakingly debated. Even now, with Scara Brae looming in front of him, William was hard pressed to explain just why he had decided to return. But decided he had, and his new journey was finally nearing completion.

No matter the reason, he assured himself, it will be different this time.

Activity on the deck had increased, now that the sun had risen, and William moved towards the railing to maintain a good view of Scara Brae’s approaching docks. A light breeze, crisp and chilly, danced over the rippling tides, whisking refreshingly among the crowd. Though he didn’t feel the cold, William pulled his heavy cloak more tightly around him.

No need to draw unnecessary attention, he thought, turning away from the city to look over his fellow passengers. Nearly every race and nationality imaginable was represented among on the ferry’s top deck, drawn from the far corners of the world by Scara Brae’s reputation. William had been born a human, and though he was no longer among their ranks, he maintained his façade as one of them.

If only they knew about the monster in their ranks, he chuckled to himself. Let free to wander, William’s mind conjured up delightful images of bloody, panic-stricken terror among the passengers. He wondered how many would remain to face their deaths and how many of them would take to the sea to get away from him. It was risky, taking a chance with the ebbing tide and icy waters, but they stood a better chance there than remaining on deck like cattle lined up for the slaughter.

But it’s possible they could make it to shore from here, he conceded, after all, I did.

That was how he had decided to handle his burgeoning rage on his first trip to Scara Brae. At the time he had seen it as an act of mercy, potentially sacrificing himself by swimming the bay rather than risk losing control on the ship, or worse, the docks.

“What a fool,” William chuckled aloud at the man he had been only two years ago, a man completely in denial of his own dualistic nature. How much trouble had he gotten himself into because he refused to accept what he had become?

One of the passengers standing next to him at the rail caught William’s statement and glowered at the cloaked revenant, thinking William’s jab directed at him. Noting the look, and not wanting to start any trouble, William flashed a lopsided grin as a ‘mea culpa’. His smiles never seemed to have a mollifying affect, however, and within seconds the grumbling man had pushed his way through the crowd.

“I’m never going to get the hang of this,” the revenant sighed, berated himself for letting his mind wander to such dark places.

Despite the faux pas, the rest of the morning passed smoothly. Gentle swells rolled the ferry ever closer to the looming docks of Scara Brae, and it wasn’t long before the scent of bloated seaweed, gull droppings, and tangy brine mixed with the fresh salt air of the open sea. It was a smell instantly recognizable to anyone who had ever lived in a port city, the smell of civilization.

Following the rest of the cattle off of the ferry post-docking, William took some time to scan the sea of slow marching people crowding the streets. Scara Brae had changed little in the year William had been gone. Dockworkers, sailors, and longshoremen trying to earn an honest day’s wages still mingled with beggars and prostitutes looking for an easy mark. Shouted invitations sang out above the clamor, tempting would-be patrons to come to this establishment for a watered down drink or to gaze at that stall for a look at the latest in fashion accessories from Fallien. It was all just another day on the docks.

Breaking free of the crowd, William stopped in the shade of an early morning food cart. The vendor, a swarthy, pot-bellied man, immediately began his squawking sales pitch, forcing William to toss a handful of coins to shut him up.

Where to now? William pondered, absentmindedly taking the three hunks of saucy, skewered meat he had just purchased. William knew that he would need some sort of human interaction if he was ever going to come to grips with the murderous desires that, even now, urged him to stick his meat-skewer through the portly vendor’s eye and rattle it around.

The obvious answer, of course, was to check the bounty board at the Scara Brae City Guard headquarters. William walked back into the crowd, biting savagely into the first hunk of sauced meat.

[Revenant]

The sauce dripping off of the meat skewer, or maybe it was the meat itself, tasted awful. But the horrible taste wasn’t the worst thing about the snack, that honor was reserved for how the greasy substance seemed to stick in his mouth like spider’s silk. One bite had been more than enough, and William couldn’t have been more eager to toss the rest into the dirt. A stray, mangy dog sitting in the shadow of a nearby alley rushed over and swallowed the dirty meat in a single massive gulp.

“You poor, stupid bastard,” William said, watching the dog eagerly consume the horrendous treat. The dog merely looked at William expectantly and wagged his flea-bitten tail.

But the momentary distraction wasn’t enough to keep William’s attention off of the abysmal taste in his mouth. And as if the taste itself weren’t bad enough, the agitation it was causing him had roused his power from dormancy. It wasn’t much, but the heat of it was enough to dry out the inside of his mouth, leaving him with no saliva with which to dilute the greasy residue.

“The Gods are toying with me,” he groaned, going back to weaving his way through the crowded streets.

He arrived at the headquarters in short order, with only a few wrong turns and course corrections needed. Considering that he was navigating by the scant memory that he had from his first trip to Scara Brae, it could have been much worse.

The City Guard headquarters was housed in an impressive structure, a massive building that towered over the surrounding buildings by at least three orders of magnitude. The wood, stone, and steel adornments that made up the exterior were fitted tightly and polished to the highest standards. Banners proclaiming the glory of Scara Brae’s defenders whipped lightly in the mid-morning breeze and the warm glow of the sunlight reflected into the streets, giving the building a warm, almost other worldy glow.

Impressive, William had stopped across the street, giving himself some room to scanning the headquarters up and down. It’s no Citadel of Radasanth, but Scara Brae isn’t Corone.

Still at odds with himself during his first trip to the island, William had tried his best to stay apart from the major city centers, lest he lose control in a highly populated area. The headquarters of the City Guard had been one of those places. Watching the numerous armed patrols that came and went from the massive building, William felt that his choice had been the right one. Even if they couldn’t truly kill him, an altercation here would have been a very bad thing.

But that’s all past and clear now, he told himself, bolstering his courage to approach the building’s ominous entrance. I’d have to be in a really bad way to lose control like that now. And since I kept such a low profile while I was here, I doubt anyone would remember me.

Still, there was no sense taking chances, and William vowed to get in and out of the headquarters as quickly as possible

Once inside, William was surprised to find that the building’s interior was even more well-maintained than the exterior. The old wood of the floor was carefully sealed and polished so that, despite the heavy foot traffic, it maintained a glossy luster. The wooden counters and railings were the same. Not to be outdone, what little exposed metal that William could see was shined to a mirror finish. Even the scent of the room seemed to defy the dusty boots of the patrols and parishioners, keeping a slight hint of fresh greenery at the edges of sensation.

Taking it all in, William stood just inside the door. For the briefest instant, all eyes in the room turned to him, but seeing no immediate danger presented by the newcomer, everyone just as quickly returned to their respective tasks.

Phew, William sighed with relief. Now I just need to find the bounty board.

“Can I help you?” one of the guards near the door asked, seeing the slight confusion on William’s face.

“I’m, uh, looking for the bounty board. I had heard that this is where you keep it,” William replied, ill-at-ease over being so directly confronted.

The guard gave him a once over, unsure what to make of a visitor in the tattered wool cloak with no visible weapons. But keeping eager adventurers from jumping in over their heads wasn’t a part of his job description and the man just shrugged and pointed at a small recess across the room, “Over that way.”

“Oh, ok,” William noticed the hanging board plastered with handwritten flyers, “thanks.”

An enormous man, seven feet of lean muscle and blocked forehead, stood in front of the board, rustling through the papers for anything that happened to catch his interest. It always seemed like there was someone with more brawn than brains willing to shuffle out and bleed for a little bit of money. They were effective and expendable, a perfect combination.

Being a newcomer to the scene, William was unsure of the formalities of bounty selection. Deciding to put expediency before valor, the revenant sidled up beside his hulking associate and started his own perusal of the clutter of papers filling the board. Every race and nationality William could think of had representation among the pages, though the crimes were fairly consistent.

Assault, robbery, murder, more assault. Apparently Scara Brae draws more than just the heroic adventuring types, he chuckled lightly, drawing an odd look from the man next to him.

A majority of the bounties had been posted for so long that William had no doubt they would never be collected. Most of the faces crudely drawn there were dead or had long since departed to greener pastures. Few bounties remained for the newer transgressors, the ones with the best chance of success invariably snatched up by earlier hunters. The chance that William would find any of these successful was slim, but it was better than wandering the streets and waiting to happen upon a random mugging.

Funny thing that, he thought, I wonder where Dedalous (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=20108) got herself to?

Shrugging it off, William focused on the task at hand.

Kerrington Jhorash, wanted for assault, one hundred gold, two months old. Nah…

Jalee McConoll, wanted for assault, one hundred gold, three weeks old. Promising…

Lord Ramkosa Arkminos the Severer, wanted for murder and unlicensed necromancy, three hundred gold, nine months old. Hah!

William scanned the bills halfheartedly. As he had suspected, there was nothing that really promised any shot at glory.

Damn. Well I guess I can start digging up whatever on I can find on Jalee McConall, he thought, resigning himself. His brutish companion glanced over as he reached for the bill and gave an uncaring grunt as if to tell William that he was free to take it.

Encouraging, William thought, pulling the bill from the board. As he took the bill, another poster was revealed, older and more faded. William was ready to dismiss it out of hand as something too old to pursue, but something about it caught his eye. Rifling through the other papers, he pulled the poster out to get a better look at it. Much to his surprise, he found himself staring at an incredibly accurate portrayal of himself wearing the same attire he was at that very moment.

What the…, he thought, reading over the bill. The Demon of Brokenthorn, alias unknown, wanted for murder of eleven city guard, murder of a civilian, and arson, three thousand gold reward. The date on it indicated that it had been posted just over a year before. A flash of memory lit up in William’s mind, reminding him of the dogged pursuit he had endured back then, and the bloody results.

So someone had the sense to run, he mused, good for them, but not so good for me.

William guiltily looked around, as if the mere act of brining the old poster to light would raise the alarm. No one seemed to have taken any notice, but that wouldn’t be enough. Needing to alter his appearance from the poster enough to make it out the door should anyone happen to glance at the bill, William slid the hood of his cloak down over his short, stubbly hair and pulled the concealing scarf off his face. As a last measure, William crammed his bounty poster into his pocket.

“Hey,” the brute next to him grunted, thrusting his meaty finger towards the William’s pocket. “Didn’t see that one, and I got here first so’s my right.”

“Choose faster next time,” William snarled. The hulking beast of a man narrowed his eyes and snarled back, a low throaty rumble. A sharp glance from one of the passing guards reminded him where he was, however, and he backed down.

“Pray you don’t meet me outside,” he grunted.

“Same to you,” William replied, hustling away from the board and back out the front door.

“Best of luck,” the guard who had greeted him called.

Best of luck indeed, was William’s reply.

[Revenant]

An odd, buzzing feeling crept up and down William’s spine as he walked steadily away from the City Guard Headquarters. It was a feeling that was all too familiar, and yet always foreign. It was the feeling of paranoia.

The revenant was certain that his paranoia was absurd; that there was no reason to even bring it to mind. But even as he thought this, his eyes sought out the dark recesses and suitable hiding spots all around him. Groups of men and women crowded the streets, the kind of people who could afford to live in the more affluent portion of Scara Brae where the City Guard Headquarters had been erected. Despite the fact that the streets here were far less crowded than back on the docks, William couldn’t shake the feeling that every eyes turned to monitor his passing.

“You are a stupid fool,” William growled at himself, “look at you getting all worked up over nothing. You’re a gods damned nightmare made flesh and yet you’re jumping at shadows.”

A woman nearby gave William a quizzical glance.

“Mind your own business,” he snapped, sending her rushing off in a huff.

“Damn it William, get a hold of yourself. Let’s just go find a nice place to sit and relax until I can think straight.” Gruff, ragged toughs could find solitude and distractions aplenty at countless places in Scara Brae. It was part of the appeal, after all. But one place in particular sprang to the forefront of William’s mind. Zirnden.

Zirden had one been the foremost fight club in all of Scara Brae. Anyone, at any time of the day, could go there to get lost in the crowd. But that was all before the Dajas Pagoda set up shop and pulled a majority of the clientele out. Even so, Zirnden still held enough rough appeal to at least keep the regulars coming in, and still kept its doors and fighting cage open at all hours.

Like most of the major attractions in Scara Brae, the Zirnden had only come to William’s attention through word of its reputation. It had maintained a quality of being a place where someone with a past could settle into for a while and where nobody would bother you in the hopes of striking up a petty adventure or of making a new friend. Even though the revenant had never graced Zirnden with his presence, if it lived up to its reputation then it was exactly the kind of place that William was looking for.

Zirnden it is then.

Twenty minutes later, William took in the massive building of wrought iron and rough stone that was the Zirnden. Bas-relief images of combat and triumphant glory thrust prominently into the faces of passersby, and sets of statues lining the raised roof tiles maintained a stoic, silent vigil through sunshine, wind, and rain. The building looked tough, hard, and menacing, a place for those with a hardened heart. And given the brutality that went on inside its walls, the appearance seemed only fitting. But the story changed completely once one made it past the banded plates of the front door.

As impressed as William had been with the building’s exterior, he was equally as unimpressed with the interior. Internally, the Zirnden showed its decline in almost every way. Colors faded away inside the Zirnden, banners, drapes, and posters all falling victim to dust, and age, and smoke. A look at the establishment’s bar and tables made William think that he would be unable to tell the difference between them and a plank from one of the hundreds of sun-backed fishing vessels floating in the docks. Only the delyn enclosed fighting platform at Zirnden’s heart caught showed signs of care and maintenance. Truly, the Zirnden had certainly seen better days.

At least I’m not here for the pretty atmosphere, William grimaced and let his hand to slide over a rough, unpolished wood railing as he made his way to an open table. Some of the Zirnden’s patron’s turned their eyes in his direction, likely sizing him up, but that was to be expected in almost any bar in Scara Brae. The rest of the lot kept their eyes on the two men engaged in a knock down, drag out bare-knuckle brawl in the cage.

Yeah, that’s right. Nothing to see here. Go about your business, William clucked, taking a seat at his chosen table. It was just one of many, but this one at least gave him a fairly good view of the rest of the bar. William made his own scan of his fellow patrons before, noticing nothing, he turned to watch the fight.

One man, a thick, heavyset bald guy was grabbing at his opponent, a dark haired man with a blunt face while blood streamed freely from his battered face. The sight of two men beating each other raw piqued his more violent interests, but William, caught up in more pressing matters, looked away and swept them aside. Instead, he waved a hand to summon the serving lady who was already in motion towards him. She was a somewhat portly woman, obviously well past her prime and trying to hide it under layers of garish makeup, but she still did her best to flash William her best impression of a warm customer friendly smile.

“Haven’t seen you here before, stranger. What can Manda get for you?” Manda’s voice was raspy and tired, and William knew that life had put her through the wringer one too many times. The human side of him twitched with a surge of pity.

Well, at least she’s not trying to seduce me, his other side said.

“Pint of dark,” William nodded at Manda, betraying no hint of his thoughts.

“Easy enough, stranger,” Manda left and returned in quick order, bearing William’s order and flicking her finger towards William’s money pouch, “that’ll be two coppers. And just let Manda know if you’ve got a mind for betting. I’ll set up right up.” William shook his head ‘no’ and tossed her three coppers, two for the drink and one for her service. Manda shrugged, nodded her thanks, and then headed towards the next table that needed a refill.

Maybe I should have taken her up on her offer, William chuckled, sipping at his dark, gamble it all, win big, then use my fortune to buy my way out of here. Not the best plan in the world, I know, but it can’t be worse than my bounty hunter idea.

The brawl in the fighting cage ended as the dark haired man smashed his opponent to the floor in a splash of sweat and blood. As soon as it became apparent that the fat man wasn’t getting back up any time soon the cluster around the cage exploded in a flurry of money, with winners collecting their earnings and losers shelling it out. Back inside the cage the dark haired man just wobbled around, throwing his hands up and shouting like the triumphant idiot he was.

As if, he snorted, tilting his pint back to take a deeper pull, and with that bounty out on me I can’t just sign up to have a go around myself. Damn my luck.

William drained the pint and let it drop back to the table. There was a moment of shocked astonishment when he saw that he was no longer alone, and an even more shocking moment when he realized that the man bore the insignia of the City Guard.

“Damn my luck,” William echoed.

[Revenant]

Drums pounded in William’s head, drowning out everything but the man sitting across from him. The guardsman was well put together, though the tunic he wore was more suited to the outdoors than to a wealthy man’s parlor. A dusty brown goatee was neatly trimmed to match the grooming of his same-colored hair, and his posture showed no signs of aggression. In fact, it seemed like he was more nervous than hostile. Still, a shiver of pain spread through William’s body as he looked at the man and reached deep into the source of his power to grip it like a vice.

“You don’t want to do that,” the guard warned, sensing William’s reaction.

“Like hell I don’t,” William hissed back through clenched teeth.

“Now just calm right down,” though the man wore a mask of emotionless expression, his voice betrayed an undercurrent of panic, “this isn’t what you think.”

“Then tell me what it is,” William’s teeth ground together so tightly it was a miracle they didn’t crack. His entire body was taught, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice, and the heat surrounding him was beginning to build to an uncomfortable level.

“There are two things that you should know. First, I was the only survivor of that debacle a year ago, which means that second, I know perfectly well what you’re capable of. I didn’t have any intention of dying back then and I don’t have any of dying today.”

“What you intend doesn’t mean shit to me. You put a bounty on me and that’s not something that I find really endearing,” William narrowed his eyes dangerously.

Kill him! the voice in his head screamed. Cut him and let him bleed.

“You seem to be forgetting that you killed the rest of my squad,” the guard waved his hands defensively in what William assumed was supposed to be a calming motion. “My superiors demanded a report of the incident and when the investigators couldn’t track you down they posted the bounty as standard procedure. I wanted nothing more to do with you. Honest.”

William sensed a starting amount of truth in the man’s words, enough to get him to release his hold on his power, letting it subside. The howling of the bloodthirsty voice in his head was almost deafening but he pushed through it.

“Ok, say I believe you,” William said, leaning back into a slightly more relaxed but still guarded position, “then why come to me now?”

“Believe me, you weren’t my first choice,” the guard exhaled, relaxing visibly. William realized that all of the color had drained from the man’s face and was only now starting to creep back up.

Coward, the demonic part of William’s mind snarled.

Do you blame him? the human part countered.

“I repeat, why approach me at all?” William asked slowly.

The guard broke into a relieved grin, “Ok here’s the deal. My name’s Saul and as you can see,” he gestured to the city guard insignia on his tunic, “I’m part of the guard, formerly of the rangers.”

“I gathered that,” William said dryly, leaning further back and rolling his eyes.

“Right, so I have a friend,” he gestured to a table across the floor where a lone woman sat, watching the two of them with a slightly worried expression, “who just came to me with the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Saul paused here, as if waiting for a reply from William, but the revenant merely waived his hand for the guard to continue.

“Recently, one of the groups of plynt miners up at the Windlacers found something big. And by big I mean huge, like a dragon’s hoard with of gold and gemstones. Maybe it was even the hoard of the Windlacer Dragon itself!”

“That seems highly unlikely,” William snorted.

“Ok, I’ll admit that one is a stretch,” Saul lost none of his enthusiasm, “but it’s still a fortune.”

“So you want me to, what, get the location of this ‘treasure hoard’ from these miners for you?” the rickety wooden chair under him creaked as William leaned forward and gave Saul a steel-eyed stare, “because that seems like a highly unlawful thing for a guardsman to do.”

“No, no, no. That’s the thing,” leaned forward as well, caught up in his tale, “as the miners were coming back to the city, their caravan, along with the guy carrying the map to the horde, was ambushed in the forest by a pack of goblin raiders.”

“Seems odd that a pack of raiders would be so far from the cove,” William quirked an eye in skepticism.

“Nah,” Saul waved it off, “The little shits have been growing a lot bolder recently. Word is some shaman of theirs has been rousing them up for a while and they’ve finally started spreading out. Anyways, the goblins ransacked this caravan and made off with the goods.”

“Including the map to the hoard?” William asked, though he knew the answer.

“Including the map!” Saul had gotten so animated that he had forgot to keep his voice low. Several heads turned in their direction, interested in what the guardsman found so intriguing. Saul’s female companion had shifted her expression from worried to frustrated and was shaking her head at Saul, who only seemed to realize his mistake after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“And the best part is,” Saul lowered his voice again and whispered gleefully, “that there’s currently a bounty on goblin ears for the guard. Not only would we get the map to the hoard, but we’d get paid for getting it.”

Saul paused for a moment to let the full weight of his revelation sink in. William mulled Saul’s situation over quietly, ordering another drink from Manda while he did so. He waved the cost of the drink onto Saul, and the guardsman grudgingly paid the woman while he carefully watched William for a response.

“What I can’t figure out,” William began, pausing slightly to sip at his pint, “is why you would bring this to me. Aren’t you afraid that I’d just head out on my own to look for this caravan?”

Saul squinted and let his lips curl into a sly smile while he waved a finger at William, “I would, except that the Brokenthorn is a big place and you don’t know where the caravan is.”

“And you do?”

“No,” Saul admitted, “but Lizzy does.”

“Lizzy?”

Saul draped his arm over the back of his chair smugly, as if all the cards were on his side, and jerked his head towards his female companion.

“Fair enough,” William shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. “But that still doesn’t tell me why you want me in on it.”

Saul’s face broke into a shit-eating grin, as if he were a hunter who had just closed the trap on his prey, “because there’s going to be trouble and I know what you’re capable of. And because no one can pass up the chance to get filthy rich.”

William pursed his lips and nodded, “can’t argue with that. But what if I say no?” His gaze returned to watch Saul from under half-closed lids. Another sip.

Saul’s smile faltered, as if this were a turn in the conversation that he hadn’t expected, “well … uh. I guess that I’d have to … uh, make your presence known to the rest of the City Guard.”

Daggers flashed in William’s eyes, mixed with a little bit of mirth. Saul’s brain took a second to process what he’d just said, and as it did so a look of creeping horror fell over his face.

“Blackmail, huh?” It was William’s turn to smile, though his was more predatory than Saul’s my a hundred times.

“No … I mean … that is,” Saul sputtered, scraping his chair legs on the floor as he scooted back from the table. He eyes frantically darted around the room, seeking any possible means of escape from his grisly fate.

William downed the rest of his dark in a gulp and slammed the pint down, shaking the rough wooden table. “Relax, Saul,” he snarled, somehow in an easygoing manner, “people are going to think that I don’t like you.”

“Uh…” Saul replied, pausing.

“Alright guardsman, I’m in,” William rose from his seat, signaled yet another beer from Manda, and indicated that it should be taken to Lizzy’s table, “now let’s go meet this friend of yours.”

[Revenant]

William watched ‘Lizzy’ with cautious appraisal as he made his way across Zirnden. She had fairly average features, though her sharp features put her a bit on the fairer side. Shoulder length raven hair spilled over the top of the boiled leather jerkin that she wore to good effect. A light tan told William that the native Scarabrian spent a decent amount of time in the sun, and he calloused hands told him that she was no stranger to rough work.

“This your ‘tracker’ Saul?” she asked in a flinty voice, a match for the steely eyes which were locked on William. William paused a second under her scrutiny to give the woman a thorough look before dropping into the chair opposite her.

“Yeah,” Saul hastily replied, sliding into the chair next to his companion, “this is … er.” An awkward moment passed as Saul realized that he had never caught William’s name.

“William Arcus,” William nodded to her, picking up the pint that Manda had just brought and saluting.

“Lizbeth,” she tipped her own glass back at him.

“Is that short for Elizabeth?” William asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“No,” she snorted, mimicking his movements and sipping at her own, “that would have been too easy for my parents. They liked the name but thought it sounded long. Now, because they wanted brevity, I have to answer that question every time I introduce myself.”

“My apologies,” William laughed, feeling the air between them lighten slightly. Lizbeth just waved him off, shifting her attention to the clank of steel and delyn coming from behind him. William too, looked over his shoulder to watch the next round of competitors enter the fighting cage. Four men entered the cage this time, two groups of two wearing light armor and wielding padded clubs.

“Bah,” he spat, “what’s the point of padding a club?” He turned back around to catch Lizbeth watching him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Zirden has enough trouble filling their cage as is without people gutting each other on a regular basis,” she shrugged, “You’ve got to come at night for the good fights.”

“Bah,” William spat again and an uneasy silence settled over the table.

“Good news Lizzy,” Saul chimed in, finally breaking the silence, “William said that he’s in.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Lizbeth looked from Saul to William with an amused look, but the amusement faded as eyes as she locked her flinty eyes on William. “And why should I accept your help, tracker?”

William shrugged but didn’t reply, instead focusing on the enjoyment of his pint. Time once again dragged into awkwardness, but just as Saul opened his mouth to jump in, William replied.

“I spent most of my life in one woods or another, girl, Brokenthorn included. And if you’re worried about wether or not I can handle myself in a fight, well, I’ve taken more lives than you’d care to hear about. In fact, that’s what first brought your buddy and I together, ” William shifted his attention to the guardsman with a wicked grin, “isn’t that right Saul?”

Saul nodded his affirmation.

“So Saul does know you?” Lizbeth raised her eyebrows at Saul as if impressed. “Here I thought he wanted to pick up the rattiest guy he could find at Zirnden.”

William looked down at the numerous holes in his frayed, threadbare cloak and the stained wool clothes he wore underneath before breaking into laughter.

“Touché,” he saluted with his glass again.

The verbal sparring left a warmer smile on Lizbeth’s face, and the adventuress finally nodded acceptance, “alright Saul, if you say he’s good for it then that’s good enough for me.”

“Oh he’s good for it,” Saul finally chimed in, and then flashed a somewhat worried look at William, “isn’t he.”

“C’mon Saul,” William chided, remembering the mindless killing machine that he had been the last time Saul had seen him, “you know me.”

Saul coughed to cover the little shiver that ran through him.

“So,” William eased himself back into the chair, “now that I’m in, why don’t you tell me everything.” A roar erupted from the crowd behind William, and the revenant could tell without looking that one of the combatants had gone down.

Good timing, he thought, a little extra noise will keep prying ears away.

“I’m an adventurer by trade,” Lizbeth began with a sigh, as if this were all old business to her, “part of a group called the Piebald Cats.” William quirked an eyebrow at the name but didn’t interrupt. “We were out in Brokenthorn a couple of days ago when we came upon a man in the brush. He was wounded and delirious but he managed to tell us about his caravan being ambushed by goblins. Knowing for certain that he’d die if he didn’t get back to the city, Troyer, Piebald’s lead man, told me to take him back to Scara Brae while the rest of them headed to look for more survivors.”

“How many of you were there?” William asked as Lizbeth paused to sip her beer.

“In Piebald? Seven.”

“And you were the only one who was sent back with the miner?”

“Yeah,” Lizbeth’s face had taken on a dark tone, “just me. It didn’t do much good, the miner’s injuries were too damned bad. I think he knew that he wasn’t going to make it cause he told me all about the hoard his miners had found and that they had made a map which was lost in the ambush.”

William nodded that he had heard this part.

“He died right after that,” Lizbeth voice dropped a little, and William could hear the undercurrent of sorrow in it. “I turned the body over to the guard and headed home to wait for Troyer and the others. But after three days I figured they weren’t coming back.”

Lizbeth’s voice caught in her throat as she said the last part. The sorrow in her voice had increased, and William thought that he heard tears in her voice.

This Troyer means something to her, he noted.

“Anyway,” she started again after a moment, “I contacted Saul cause he’s a friend of Troyer’s, and he suggested we head out after them. And that’s where we are.”

“Yeah,” Saul chimed in. “but before we headed out I wanted to get a third person to go with us. I figured it would be a good thing to have a little extra help if we come to blows with the goblins, but we don’t want a larger group in case things get too hairy.”

More like you need an unrelated interest in case ‘Lizzy’ lets her feelings for your ole’ buddy Troyer get in the way of your payday, but not enough to force you to split your share any more than you have to, William thought. If you’re so determined to find your friend, then why not mention him at all?

“It’s your show, guardsman” William shrugged, finishing the last of his third beer. “I just need to know when and where and I’m along for the ride.”

“Thank you,” Lizbeth answered warmly, sincerely happy that this stranger would offer to help, even if it was just for the money, “we’ll meet outside North Gate an hour past dawn tomorrow.”

“And I suggest you find yourself a change of clothes,” Saul gestured once more to William’s tattered garb. “In fact, I have something here that might help.”

The guardsman pulled a bound notice from his pack and handed it to William, “Head to Scara Brae Fitting and give this to them. It’ll tell them that you’re working with the City Guard and should receive a discount on whatever you need.”

William took the notice with an appreciative nod then got to his feet, “unless there’s anything else, I’ll see you both at North Gate tomorrow.”

Lizbeth and Saul waved him goodbye and watched silently until William had left the Zirnden.

“Should I really trust him?” Lizbeth asked, turning to Saul.

“Let’s just say I’m not going to turn my back on him,” Saul answered and waved for Manda to bring another round of drinks.

“Lets hope he comes through,” Lizbeth whispered to herself, turning her thoughts to Troyer, her missing lover, “for all our sakes.”

Saul’s mind was itself turned to thoughts of the riches that would soon be his, “yes, for all our sakes.”

[Revenant]

Alright, Saul, William’s thoughts turned to the guardsman as he once again weaved through the crowded streets of Scara Brae, what’s your game?

William was taking everything Saul had said with a grain of salt, though the man had certainly seemed honest enough in his desire to get his hands on whatever wealth this miner’s hoard held. But the frightened, submissive portrayal he put off was something wholly unbecoming of someone in his position. It was entirely possible that he was being truthful, William did tend to have that effect on people, but it was also possible that he was playing like a sap to keep William off-guard.

Maybe you do care about your friend, Saul, William mused, [/i]but I think you’re more in it for yourself. Smart money is on you using me to keep ‘Lizzy’ in line and then cash in on my bounty once this is over and I come for my share.[/i] That a man would turn on a dear friend just for material gain wasn’t a new story, and if that were really Saul’s plan, then William would have to watch Saul carefully.

Lost, as he was, in his thoughts, it hadn’t occurred to William that he had no idea where Scara Brae Fitting was located. The realization slapped him back to reality and as he looked around, the revenant realized that his feet had carried him back into the more affluent part of town. Noticing two older looking women across the hard packed streets, William drew near them to ask for directions.

The two women were obviously uncomfortable at being approached by the raggedly dressed revenant and were quite willing, eager in fact, to give him the directions to Scara Brae Fitting as quickly as they could. Business finished, William watched as the two women nearly tripped over themselves in their eagerness to hustle away from the encounter and couldn’t help but smile at the reaction his menacing presence created. Though he couldn’t kill everyone around him, he could still leave terror and fear in his wake.

And in the end, he thought, it’s the little things that count.

It was just after midday by the time William managed to make it to Scara Brae Fitting, and the crowded streets showed no signs of clearing. Over the heads of the milling crowd, William saw the rising sign that indicated which building belonged to Scara Brae Fitting. The sign was a decently designed, if plain, needle and thread pattern over stitched lettering, and the building itself wasn’t much to look at. Blended with the cut-out buildings around it, Scara Brae Fitting would have been an easy miss had it not been for the absolutely stunning dresses on display in the shop’s front window.

Impressive, William thought, fully letting his eyes roam over the soft curves of a particularly fetching slinky green dress which, for just an instant, he pictured draped scandalously over Lizbeth’s firm body.

What the hell? William jerked with surprise at the contents of his thoughts. Lust was something that he had thought forever beyond him, supplanted with more raw, primal desires. But somehow the window dressing had broken through the seal that kept the weakness of his humanity in check. Where did that come from?

“Oh my,” a woman’s voice startled William, chuckling merrily at the jumping reaction it provoked, “you do need some help, don’t you?”

“I, uh,” William stuttered, looking around blankly as the tinkling of the entry bell faded to silence behind him. Lost in his thoughts, William had entered Scara Brae Fitting, only to stand idly in the doorway. William could feel a warm flush spreading across his face. Get a hold of yourself you idiot, he scolded, You’re acting like you’re fifteen again.

The woman who had called to William now approached him. Obviously a saleswoman, she was a rather tall, muscular woman with rough hands and short cropped hair that did nothing to hide the nasty scar on the side of her chin. It very much looked like she would have been more at swinging a sword on the open road than serving customers in one of Scara Brae’s more fashionable clothing stores, but here she was. But despite her Amazonian hardness, William could still see that she still had soft, feminine curves as she moved.

“Please,” the saleswoman laughed merrily at William’s obvious distress, a light, tinkling sound made all more surreal by the rough manliness of the woman making it, “there’s no need to fret. A lot of our male customers see our samples in the window and get the wrong impression.” She made a broad gesture, drawing William’s eyes to the plethora of clothes racks all around her. Dresses and frilly things could be found in abundance but, as the woman had alluded to, there was also a vast array of leather coats, wool tunics, and rough denim trousers specifically designed for life in the wilderness. In fact, most of the wooden mannequins in the store looked like they were fresh out of a bard’s tale and looking to set out on some foolhardy adventure.

“See,” she teased, gracefully circling William as the revenant let the view soak in, “not so bad is it?”

“No,” William admitted, slowly coming back to his senses, “though I initially had some misgivings, this is definitely where I was supposed to come.”

“Supposed to come eh?” the woman came to a halt in front of William and shot him a curious look, “So this is business then and not pleasure?”

Something in the way she spoke drew William’s attention to her slightly pursed lips, and the faint hint of a smile on them. “Yes, uh,” he coughed uncomfortably, tearing his eyes away from her long enough to produce Saul’s notice, “business. I’m working with the City Guard and was told to come here to be taken care of.”

William refused to let his eyes lock onto the woman as he handed the notice to her, casting his glance adrift as she unfurled and read Saul’s words.

“So it would seem,” she nodded. Her stance was more serious now, though her words still held a tiny bit of teasing, “what exactly will you be doing for the guard, Mr…?”

“William, William Arcus. And my business with the guard is my own,” he replied, perhaps a bit to harshly, forcing his menacing persona back in place. But even this seemed to backfire as the forced roughness in his voice merely brought another curious quirk of the woman’s eyebrow and more laughter to her eyes.

“You misunderstand me, William Arcus,” she chuckled lightly, “I don’t give a damn what your business with the guard is. But I do need to know what type of business it is if you expect me to outfit you properly.”

The woman returned to her cat-like pacing, prowling between stands of piled clothing, pulling William’s gaze after her. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say that whatever you’ll be doing is going to be out of city limits.” She paused her pacing long enough to shoot William a coy, sideways smile, “forgive me if I’m wrong, but I just don’t see you as the formal functionary type.”

“No, no, you’re correct,” William found himself jumping to reply, “formality is definitely not my specialty.” Suddenly finding that he needed a distraction to pull his eyes away from the prowling saleswoman, the revenant willed himself further into the store, brushing his hands over the rough fabric piled attire, “we’ll be heading into Brokenthorn and maybe even further from there.”

“And if you’re with the guard I would expect hostilities,” it was more of a statement than a question and, know having an idea of what William needed, she moved quickly through the rowed tables.

William nodded affirmation, “Indeed. Though we’re going to try to avoid it as much as possible.”

Nodding herself, the saleswoman commenced rummaging through an out-of-the-way bin. Her hips rhythmically swayed back and forth as she searched, and William found himself entranced. No doubting it, there was something about the woman that roused him and lit his blood on fire in a way that he had not experienced after the death of his wife many long years past.

I thought I was past all this, William thought somewhat excitedly. The idea that being a revenant meant being a human as well as a demon was a pleasant thought. Reconciling his dual-nature had weakened the hold his demonic side held over him, was the opposite true as well, is my human side becoming stronger?

“What do you think?” the woman’s voice once again brought William out of his reverie. William quickly looked away from her hips as she straightened and turned to present an armful of clothes, but the mocking smile that she wore told him that she knew damned well what he had been looking at.

“Well since I have no real sense for fashion,” William said, taking the pile of clothes she presented without even looking them over, “I’d be more than a fool to second guess yours.”

[Revenant]

One look in the dressing room mirror was enough to tell William that he had been correct in taking the saleswoman’s advice. The outfit’s long sleeved shirt and trousers were both of an earthen brown color, and though the shirt hung a little loose in the chest and shoulders, they both fit quite nicely. And over the top of both of them was a loose fitting hooded overcoat dyed in mottled greens, browns, and tans to help him blend in with the broken colors of the woods. He looped the like-colored strip of cloth that served at the coat’s belt and emerged from the small dressing room.

“Well now,” the woman gave a low, appreciative whistle, “don’t you clean up nice.” William felt a bashful smile creeping onto his face and forced it out, though he could do nothing about the flush rising in his cheeks.

“Yes, well,” he coughed, obviously trying to recompose himself, “I only have you to thank.”

The woman laughed at that, not the dainty tinkling laugh of a delicate lady, but a full-bodied boisterous laugh, “don’t thank me just yet. Your notice from the guard specifies that you are to receive a discount, but there’s still a price attached to those delightful articles of clothing you’re wearing now.”

“Yes, of course,” William nodded understanding and reached for his coin purse, “what do I owe you?”

“Let’s see,” the woman walked gracefully around William, looking him up and down as she did so. “For such an interesting individual as yourself, and including your discount, I’d say the remaining price should be just enough to pay for dinner for two.”

“Hu..whu,” William blinked to give himself time to go over her words and make sure he understood them correctly, “are you asking me to dinner?”

“No, William Arcus,” she stopped he circuit in front of him, smiling playfully, “I said that your outfit would cost about that much. So you could either pay me the difference now, or …”

“I could take you to dinner,” William suggested, catching on to her meaning.

“Well now, I’m surprised it took you this long to ask,” she laughed again, softer this time, “especially considering how your eyes have been locked on me.”

“Well, I … that is,” he flushed a deep crimson and covered his mouth, flustered. He could feel a tingling burn under his skin as his nervous excitement roused his power from its slumbering state.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take a rain check,” she turned and headed back to her store front, looking wistfully over her shoulder, “you see, I take writs from the guards to cover their expenses because they pay twice what my materials are worth for an annual contract, but I don’t keep personal associations with the guard.”

“Or people working for the guard,” she eyed him purposefully.

William sighed, feeling a genuine moment of disappointment, what the hell is going on in my head?

“Believe me, uh.” William paused, suddenly at a loss for words, “I just realized I never got your name.”

“Your complete loss of brain function in my presence is flattering,” she laughed again, teasingly, “but I hope it doesn’t last too long. My name’s Kristen.”

“Pleased to meet you Kristen,” William smiled as genuine a smile as he could manage, “I’m only going to be working with the guard on this one mission, and even that is only ancillary to what I’ll be doing. If I were to, say, stop by after I’m through, I wouldn’t be associated with the guards anymore, would I?”

“Not that I could see,” she flashed him a grin, “and there would still be the matter of your unpaid tab.”

“Well I always pay my debts,” William said, hefting his pack, “so I’ll stop by when I get back.” The soft tinkling of the entry bell sounded William’s exit from Scara Brae Fitting and the newly dressed up Revenant disappeared into the crowded street outside, feeling more alive than he had in years.

It seemed like things were about to get interesting...

[Silence Sei]

• STORY ~ Light coms, full rubes…..here we go!



Continuity (5/10) ~

Setting (8/10) ~ Did a pretty good job describing your areas in Scara Brae, as well as your opening scene.

Pacing (4/10) ~ Things here were going a bit too slow for my tastes.

17/30


• CHARACTER ~

Dialogue (7/10) ~

Action (5/10) ~

Persona (5/10) ~ A different take on Willie. Good to see where you may have went had you not ran into Sei :P

17/30
• WRITING STYLE ~

Mechanics (7/10) ~ Not a whole lot of errors, but there were still a few here and there.

Technique (5/10) ~

Clarity (7/10) ~

Wild Card (5/10) ~ Rather long and a bit boring for me, quite frankly. Whenever something exciting happened, you kinda hid it in a sea of drab.

24/40

Total: 58/100

No spoils asked for, no spoils approved. Rev gets 840 exp and 20 GP for a not finished yet submitted thread.

[Silence Sei]

EXP-GP added.