Entering From Afar

[Knave]

In the sky above, the stars offered what light they could through a stifling blanket of the clouds. As a result a poor and pale glow illuminated the trees to either side, the road ahead, the out line of things that moved in the corner’s of the eye and inspired the mind to wander and wonder. Even though the night was at its strongest, and the cover of darkness had reduced everything to shades of gray, the forest never slept, it was very much alive.

Cool winds blew in from the sea, masking the sound of rustling grass and walking feet, but it could do nothing to silence the haunting tune of pursed lips and working lungs. The tune was chipper, however, in these circumstances it echoed, bouncing between the trees to become somber, and return wrong.

No one had yet to see him since he had rowed onto the shore, this was bad. No one who mattered knew he existed, this was good. One of these things would soon change. Ten minutes ago, Ace, having his pack over his shoulders, exited his little row boat and waded ashore.

With a last look at the see, and the one's he cared for most, heentered through an arching bow of saplings into the Concordia Forest. Shape-shifter, the kind who replaced children, the kind who made you love them before he had the heart from your chest.

At first sight he was innocent, a grown man of a child. He came through the forest, walking a path reserved for the brave during the day, and the wicked at night, damn near skipping from the bounce in his step and the easy stride he took. Ace kept walking, his massive pack distorting his silhouette into something wretched.

The eyes of the world were upon him, numerous and glowing. Ace did not seem to care. The wilds of the Concordia took this as a hint to keep their distances, and watch. If he was strong enough to warrant his foolishness, then let another attack, he would be carrion, an easy meal. If he was not, they would be carrion, another easy meal.

Ace hit a high note, attaining a stark piercing noise. What thoughts smoldered in that red head, and what the crooked smile he wore meant, none could be certain. Even the stars above, who were acquainted with him as they were with all people and things, had to apply their imaginations, twinkling with celestial glee. Either way, he was grinning, that had to mean to something. The road ahead was some ten miles to the next town, and dawn would come and go before he arrived. He smiled, and a keen observation could be made. Ace’s expression meant nothing.

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith mumbled to herself, the angry words half intelligible through rotten lips and yellowed teeth. In truth, she was lost once again and had been so for weeks. She did not know the countryside very well, and had it been possible she'd have starved to death by now.

She'd been tumbling through the dark of the forest for days on end and every nightfall things became all the more difficult. The girl sent all manner of vermin and furred creature running from her grotesque visage, as most living things tend to flee when a walking corpse tromps through their homes. Kyslith was wet from mud and the occasional splash of a stagnant pool of water. Her fetid dress clung to her rancid, boney body. The undead girl dragged an old axe behind her; a rough swathe left in the moist undergrowth as she trudged on.

Occasionally, the forest canopy above would break, and Kyslith could see the cold night sky above her. Most would look up at the stars and take in their nocturnal warmth. Kyslith merely spat, then turned her gaze back to her surroundings and blindly pressed on into the shadowed woodlands.

A sudden, unquestionably alien noise caught Kyslith’s festering ear. The carefree and merry sound was out of place in this dreary setting. A whistle, happy and nonchalant, carried through the rough and twisted arms of the trees. It came distinct and full, and Kyslith could only think of what that could mean. Either she was nearing civilization, or there was someone near that knew where it was. If she could find them, perhaps she could follow them to a town, or a road, or even a beaten path; anything to lead her out of the accursed woods. The undead woman followed the sound toward its source, trying in vain to keep her approach quiet.

[orphans]

“Now children stay together.” Dusk found the kindly lady from the orphanage herding the young ones away from the town square where they had been playing. Usually the group of children would have been readying for bed but there was a bard in town. Against her own better judgment, the kindly woman decided to take the children along to the performances.

Thankfully nothing disastrous happened during their trip and after what seemed like an eon of trying to keep order, the chattering, screaming, singing, and flailing group of children arrived at the orphanage. “Everyone here? Good, now-” but she stopped. A quick glance around in the lantern light at the heads of the children told her someone was missing. Someone, painfully obvious was missing. “…children, where’s Azza?” They all shrugged.

----------
The small girl had long drifted away from the group. The bard was decent and Azza liked a song or two, but otherwise the ones that frequented the tavern were much better. Of course, she wasn’t usually allowed in unless it was in the morning to deliver flowers. Windows were a wonderful thing. She could listen to their song through the tavern’s windows and then run back to the orphanage’s windows and climb back to bed before anyone noticed. They were her portals of freedom.

But tonight, songs could wait. Azza wanted to see fireflies and she knew just where to go. The old broken bridge in the forest should have plenty this time of year. Her mind half wondered how the kindly lady was going to scold her, but that thought fell away as soon as she spotted the bridge and the numerous glowing dots.

[Knave]

The fetid odor of rotting flesh reanimated wafted in all directions. It created a zone where the scent of death was not simply apparent, but obvious. Terms like upwind and downwind were largely powerless to contain it. Sweet, initially gut wrenching, whatever it was, it moved among the trees, and lurked just out of sight. Shambling over the dead leaves of Fall, and the over the root packed earth, it was coming closer through the underbrush.

Soth-oth, soth-oth, soth-oth

Not to be outdone/caught/possibly molested, Ace’s pace increased from a jaunty walk to a light jogging, the massive pack bobbing from left to right, its contents shifting its shape as they scraped against one another. The whistling broke. Then returned with a new tempo suitable for a chase seen. Ace flitted down the path, the smell and sound of his pursuer however and from the look of things what a chase it would be.

Soth-oth, soth-oth, sothothsothothsothoth

Sadly, the chase was cut short when Ace displayed his talent of disappearing without a trace. The pack remained where it was, four feet in the air, before crashing to the ground with an audible thump crushing a fallen branch beneath its weight. The bushes rustled, though whether it was from the undead’s approach, or the sudden disappearance of an odd little man, was unclear.

Sothothsothothsothoth

The concept of a zombie is an odd thing, much like vampires, angles, and cosmic terrors that sail the night. Popular legends and cultures put forward several theories. A zombie was essentially a wretched soul out to introduce evil, or birth justice, into the world, usually with physical violence. Or, they awakened from their post-mortem sleep with a taste for brains. Which left an odd question to the latter case: After returning from the final mystery, did the undead crave new flesh, or new knowledge?

The salt stained ocean breeze, blew in over and through every obstacle, it carried Ace’s tune with it, fading into the distance.

When next Ace appeared, he did so instantly. He crept slowly, his motions bordering cartoonish as he followed in the zombies wake, the echoes of his little tune still reverberating into the distance as he drew nearer. Then he stepped on the axe to drive it into the ground. When he spoke, it was with civility and surrender, his hands raised and open.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”

Ace’s features were warm by design. His smile threatened to blind people. He was in simple terms too good to be true.

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith was confused. She could have sworn she'd seen something, and then it was gone. The forest had opened up to a crude path, but all that was there was a messy bundle. She began to move foreward to inspect it, but her axe was caught on something.
As the undead girl turned to see what her crude tool had tangled itself in she instead faced a curious man that had appeared seemingly from nowhere.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Gaah!" Kyslith released her grip on the axe, toppling backward to land on her haunches.

"Don't kill me!", she pleaded, raising her festering hand to shield herself from an expected blow. She scooted herself away from the man, still not getting to her feet. "'m lost...got turned 'round..."

Kyslith started to stand. " I's jess tryin' to gets to th' town, I didn' mean ta botha..." She was at a loss for words.

[orphans]

They were pretty. Fireflies are pretty, that is. Azza had caught two in a small vial with a cork top. It had a pinhole for air. Something she learned to do after the last time she caught some. Climbing back up the banks of the small brook and onto the broken bridge, she sat and looked about herself some. It was a cool night with a decent breeze. It was much better than the heat of the day. But… it carried something with it tonight that was different. Something… rotting.

"Gaah!"

The sound made Azza tumble backwards but she caught herself right before falling into the brook (well... completely anyways.) Taking a moment, she managed to free herself before looking about for the noise or the direction it came from. Common sense told her to run back home to the orphanage, but curiosity told her to investigate. After all… if someone was in trouble, the town watch would need to know about it. It only took a few seconds to tie the small vial of fireflies to her belt while she glanced about again.

Listening closely to the breeze, more murmurs and voices were in the direction of where the rotting smell was coming from. Azza pondered if she should sneak over to the area. That thought led to her eyes glancing down at herself. She glowed. Or rather her dress was reflecting the moonlight extremely well save for where she had dirt and muck. Oh well, there was always plan b of running. Azza was good at running.

With that in mind, the small girl began to make her way slowly down the path.

[Knave]

The foot planted on the grounded axe rocked it from the dirt, the compost of wet leaves, and decayed grass made several crunching noises as the handle rolled backward. A welcoming hand swept it up. Ace raised the axe up in one hand, inspecting it, seemingly unaware of the rotted carcass of a woman begging for her life.

’I could, but why?’ Ace pondered the idea of morality as a motivator. Being a good guy could be tricky. ‘What would Rondain do?’

Ace was more curious than anything, curious about what to do, curious about why a girl like this was wandering from her cemetery. Did she have one? Even the dead deserve homes.

The hero abandoned wisdom. He did not bury the axe in the zombies skull. He did not scatter her limbs across the forest. He did not tie her torso to a rock and sink it to the bottom of the nearest lake. No, rather than follow the custom of another life, he just examined the weapon. Turning it this way and that. Looking for blood. Ace Mandelo’s rather dominant nose flared at each breath. Burned by the smell of his companion, though he would never show it. Soon the sense died all together when it stopped being useful.

Stars illuminate him for a brief moment. Crusted with rust, decayed like its former wielder, it was possibly more dangerous to its holder. Or if the head was loose enough an impressive projectile. A dull, juvenile glow caught on the edge of the zombie’s axe. Nothing special. The dull edge, and the lack of any residue beyond caked filth, suggested it only knew the taste of wood.

“If you don‘t want to die, then I won‘t kill you.” He said it like he was talking to himself, then his large eyes moved from the axe to the corpse. It looked as if he couldn’t pay attention to more than one thing at a time, but the transition was quick. Ace’s eternal smile finally broke again. This grin showed off an array, a near solid wall, of pearly teeth. He sank to sitting on his heels, his free right hand tugging at the brown suspenders of his pants, a closed scar piercing it from one side to the other.

A deft hand sent the axe handle rolling backwards over his wrist, Ace turning the axe around to offer the zombie her weapon. He shook it back and forth playfully, encouraging her. “Go on, all yours.” Like a rabbit he hopped forward, like an owl he looked at her with seemingly innocent intentions, but he was looking right at her mouth. She was still a zombie. One that talked, but still a zombie.

“I’m going to town, myself.” He cocked his head to the left and down the road. “Sign back there said it would be some miles, I get that the sun probably isn‘t your thing, but being out this late is probably still asking for trouble, ya know?”

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith slowly raised herself from the dirt. She slowly moved to retrieve her axe.Once gripped, she pulled it quickly away, unsure of what trickery the man might be up to.

She coughed, and a small beetle fell from her mouth to land on the floor. It skittered away. She looked over this strange person before her. Naturally, she didn't trust him. He problably didn't trust her either. However, he seemed to at least respect her desire to remain in one piece.
"I'll maybe follows ya?...a bit behihind ya. I'll walk." Kyslith motioned to the darker forest around them, indicating her want to remain at least somewhat hidden from whomever else might come down the path. (and might not be so apt to let her be)

"Yeah...th' town. Gotta finds me sumthin' ta do...th' town." Kyslith had begun to mumble to herself again.

The undead woman was about to replace herself into the shadows when a white glint on the distant pathway caught her eye. Kyslith looked at her newfound accuaintance, wondering if he'd seen it as well.

[Knave]

Thoughts are odd little things. You can control them, and yet they wander. You can influence them, and yet they reveal knew light. Some thoughts told Ace to leave. Some told him to stay. One was complaining about the wretched asymmetrical horror of her face. One was just a little girl.

Tentative hands reached for the axe he offered, and tentative hands drew it away. Ace did not fight it, but he was disappointed in way the zombie backed away from him in terror. His disappointment showed in the dimming of his beamish grin. The circumstances were understandable, but he had worked hard on his friendly face. ‘I’m only human. Do I need wings? Do I need a halo?’

Ace found himself subject to a single-eyed regard, and a look of worry. He returned the look, his face suddenly moving to show horror as the beetle fell free from the zombies shredded lips. Ace Mandelo’s smile vanished, he recoiled, . Then he was grinning again as if it had never happened. “I don’t bite, yo… and if you don‘t then we I don‘t think we‘ll have any problems here.”

Thoughts ran through his mind, but rather than voice his concerns he stood up. Looking down on his pursuer and possible captive, he made a decision. The kind that heroes were supposed to make. ’This is going to be my friend.’ There was a terrific light in his eyes, he wore ambition poorly.

“Follow? Sure.” He agreed, eager for her company now that he could see she was not one among many or a significant threat. Passing her to pick up his bag from the small crater it had made on impact. He lifted it, knocked it to free the earth that had become attached. “Walk with me, and call me Ace.”

“I haven’t been here before.” He said slinging it around his shoulders with a bit of effort, the clang of pots, pans, gold, and knives rattled for several seconds before they settled. “So you’ll have to show me around later.” A light caught his eye, and as Ace turned around he saw the radiance, he then knew terror. An angel had to come amongst them. Heavenly damnation, or infernal providence, he would prefer to have none of either.

Resplendent in the divine rays of the lunar light, she was a tiny thing, but she raised in Ace a small fear that was growing. A troubling thought. He didn’t let his face falter, or allow his weakening, shaking legs to run. Instead, he turned his head, and whispered to the Zombie.

Fight or flight the reflex was a beautiful thing. Tendons thickened in Ace’s limbs, his eyes dilated growing black as pools of darkness expanded. Flight, most definitely flight, he was ready to run his body turned side ways to keep a watchful eye. Everything was brighter in the darkness, the shades of gray now vibrant and vivid. He could make out the insects that slept in the crevices of bark along the trees. He could hear the cloven feet of some beast half a mile away stomping across the valley. He could make out every detail, and he relaxed when he understood what he saw.

Taking her little steps the angel drew nearer, and Ace saw that she was soaked, and considerably more earthly, covered in filth as she was. A child no less. Maybe the stars didn’t hate him!

Whispering to the zombie nearby he asked a simple question.“ Is she here for you?”

[orphans]

For the first few minutes, Azza crept down the road, which effectively did little to hide her presence. Her clothing was ill suited to stealth and even her hair reflected the lunar light. Making up her mind, she simply walked down the road. She was careful though least, she trip on overgrowth or trees root.

Then she spotted shapes, moving ones on the middle of the path. The smell was also much stronger now and it made her nose twitch and inch. Smelt like the horse barns except worse. Either way, straining her curious crimson eyes from such a distance would do her no good. From the shapes they looked like travelers lost in the woods. Or at least human for that matter.

Being polite would be good wouldn’t it? But the orphanage keeper didn’t approve of her talking to travelers all the time, especially ones out at night. Should she shout a greeting then from where she was? That seemed like the best idea. Nodding to that decision, she began to jump a bit while waving an arm but then froze. She didn’t remember the proper greeting for travelers. Perhaps flailing both her arms would do then and that’s what she decided to do in the end.

[Wormtongue99]

People were strange. They had been strange to Kyslith in life. And even now, they still seemed strange to her. He was friendly to her, this 'Ace'. Maybe only because Kyslith had nothing of value or maybe because she was a coward and posed little threat, who knew. She didn't know what he expected of her, but he already treated her like a companion. He didn't know her, she didn't know him. Why the polite attitude? People were strange.

Kyslith looked over to Ace. He had picked up his belongings from the road and resumed walking once again. He asked her a question about the tiny, waving figure in the distance.
"Is she here for you?"

"Ehr, no...I don'ts know der folk in des parts.", Kyslith aswered from behind. After a second examination, Kyslith couldn't make out much but a light flitting blur. An idea suddenly popped into Kyslith's rotten brain.

"You wants ta catch 'em?", She spit as she questioned.

Kyslith had yet to decide what to do with herself in her new unlife. She'd been on the road for a few weeks (at least until she'd gotten lost in the woods), and had seen all manner of people go by. Most of them reminded her of herself in her previous life, stagnant and unimportant. They had little impact on the world around them. However, she'd seen a group of bandits not long ago that had made off with the monies of a prominent looking citizen after they scared his horse into crashing his coach on the roadside. She'd aspired to be like them until she realized that most of them led a violence filled life. Kyslith wasn't very good with fights. However, the individual she'd just met seemed a very capable man. But what were his intentions? Would he support her actions, or shun or even attack her if she raised the idea of a kidnapping?

"Uur, ...or not. Uh, I dont a know 'er, though." Kyslith tried to keep herself neutral.

[Knave]

Insect life fluttered in background, the dull drone of the multitude’s billions producing a chaotic orchestra of noise. It filled the world with a living undertone, one that pierced the skin, and chirped beneath the undead woman’s rasping voice. She proposed that they catch a child, but she suggested nothing of what they would when they had her. Ace was no cannibal; he was human, that was good, his new companion

“Catch… yeah.” Ace said walking up the path, never breaking into a run through his fast gate bordered a sprint, crushing twigs and sending up clouds of spores from the flattened mushrooms. When the little girl waved bouncing and silent, Ace raised a hand in greeting.

“And here we have another traveler,” He laughed, laying a hand on the child’s head to keep her still, all that flexing of the knees and pumping of the arms made looking at her tiring, it was too late to see anyone hopping back and forth. “Got her.” He called over his shoulder.

“Now, you don’t look like the type of person who wanders around in the woods at night.” Ace said, sinking to the girls level. “I don’t suppose you know a short cut to the town?”

[orphans]

“And here we have another traveler.”

Azza watched as the curious fellow drew closer. He didn’t seem threatening and treated her much like all the other travelers. Her lips turned to a slight frown as he stilled her with a hand. Ducking away, she then brushed at her head with her own hands before gazing back.

The questions he asked confirmed her belief of the two being lost travelers. Rocking back and forth on her sandals as she thought how to answer them, she strained herself to peer over his shoulders at the one further down the road. Why didn’t that person come closer?

“Azza know where town is because Azza isn’t traveling. Azza looking for fireflies, see see?” Untying the small vial from her belt, she held it aloft for Ace to see. The two tiny occupants simply flew back and forth in the cramped space, lighting up only now and then. “Azza put two inside so fireflies not get lonely. Like you two traveling together, no?”

[Wormtongue99]

"Hmmph...good thing I didn' a say nuthin'" Kyslith mumbled to herself. She shambled up the road a bit, kiccking up dust with her loping stride. She dragged her axe behind her once again, the dull scrape of metal on eath following her as she walked. At a point, the small white figure came into focus, and Kyslith realized that the 'she' Ace had reffered to, was a child. She wondered what the young girl would do if the rotting woman decided to walk up to them.

Kyslith decided to try her luck, at the very worst she could run back into the woods if any trouble started. The undead woman picked up her pace. She promptly tripped from her discoordination, and fell. She sputtered a myriad of curses as she pulled herself to her feet and began her approach once again; This time at her regular pace.

Arguing with herself as she walked, Kyslith was debating on what to do when she got to town. Should she follow the male traveler on whatever errand they might be on? What was the little girl doing out here at night? Would she even be accepted in the town? The last town she's been through, she was run out of; barely escaping and losing an arm that had since grown back.

[orphans]

The other person seemed tired to Azza. Or perhaps she was injured? Why else would a lady drag something behind her? When the woman tripped and rather bad language erupted from her, Azza continued to watch in amazement. Didn’t only bad adults use bad language? But if she was a bad lady why was she traveling with a nice man? Adults are confusing…

It was only when the lady was close enough did she actually notice the smell coming from her. Under the moonlight, Azza could see the wounds and filth and… but the smell. That was the worst and everything else paled in comparison. In fact, Azza wrinkled her nose a bit at the smell. Even though she had been told it was rude to do so, she couldn’t help it. There was only one explanation for why the lady was like this.

She must be a leper! One had passed through the town before and the woman at the orphanage told Azza not to pester the person with questions. The more the small girl thought about her hunch, the more she thought it must be true. Still… there was the problem of the smell…

“Lady needs a hot bath and bandages.”

[Wormtongue99]

"Heh-heh *cough cough* -heh" Kyslith laughed at the small girl's innocence. Bandages? A bath? Actually that last one didn't sound too bad. Nevertheless, she didn't run away squealing in terror. That was a great start considering how things could have gone.

"Ur...um, 'ello 'lil one. 'Ow are ya *cough* dis evenin'?" Kyslith grinned, bearing a sour mouthful of yellowed teeth.

"Yes, yes...I needs me some, ur...bandages. Could you...um, 'elp a poor lady out?" She extended a boney, dried up hand toward the little girl. Kyslith would take whatever help she could manage, even if it came from pity. The town awaited and she needed a cover.
Actually, the undead woman hadn't really ever given much thought about a disguise before. The little girl's suggestion of bandages might have saved Kyslith many a bad situation had this novel idea occured to her before. How funny, a child had more innovation than she. Kyslith supposed an introduction was in order.

"I'm a-called...ur, Kyslith." she slavered over the 's', more virul spittle flowing over her lips. "An, uh...dis is..ur, Ace?", she looked over at the man that was her previous escort questioningly, not sure if that was right or not. Her rotten brain had a difficult time remembering things. This was also a large contributor to her poor language skills.

Kyslith looked around suddenly, a look of realization about her twisted face. "Oui! We can gets ta town." She then recoiled her enthusiasm when she realized they had already been on their way to town. She began to mumble things to herself again.

[Knave]

A child faced a zombie unaware of the monster in plain view. Ace stood beside Azza waiting for his living impaired, insect infested companion to catch up with the rest of them. As she/it shambled forward along the road. she continued to drag her axe. What exactly did it intend to do with it? Could she bring herself to attack with the senseless abandon characteristic of her kind, ‘Pfft, unlikely.’ Ace thought to himself, the hint of derision more a product of Lawrence’s than his own. A dead sense of humor, and, much like this walking kill, one that refused to just lay down.

This was simply not the sort of zombie that went around killing people; she simply was not rabid enough. She had too much composure, all the stories portrayed zombies as the sort of creatures who made no move beyond the extreme, and the subpar. They walked or they ran. They killed or they slept. The man Ace could only wonder what she would do in town. Necrogenesis Sapiens Sapiens, how long had it been since Althanas was last plagued with them?

She was skin and bones, every step likely opened cracks in her deteriorating body… not that it mattered, she was dead after all. Either way Azza, little girl that she was, blind to prejudice, ignorant to rational fear, did not recoil when this zombie came into view. Instead she said the one thing that Ace would have never expected, that the zombie needed a bat h and some bandages.

“Ahahaha.” It burst out like he couldn’t control it, nevertheless it was good natured. “I think I’ll have one of those too.’ He said, before nodding at his introduction. “And I do believe town is where we need to be, so what do you say,” he beamed looking between the two, “how about we get going?”

[orphans]

Her expression was a sort of confusion. Why did he laugh? Kyslith needed a bath and bandages. In fact, Azza had already dug out a small roll and had begun wrapping it around the hand Kyslith extended to her. Finishing the bandaging, she prodded at the hand lightly with a finger before nodding in satisfaction. “Lady needs more bandages after bath.”

The mention of town brought her back to reality a bit and she realized that it was much later than she intended on staying outside. Fretting a little, she looked up to Ace, and then to Kyslith as an idea began to form. If she returned to the orphanage now, the keeper would most likely be angry... but if she were to stay out even later, that anger would turn to worry. Azza knew this much and decided this might be the best way to handle things.

“Azza can take mister Ace and miss Kyslith to town. The mister at the tavern is nice man too like Ace. He take care of you two.” Not waiting for a reply from either, she began to wander down the path back to town, but stopping here and there, or running ahead to inspect a plant or patch of wild life. Maybe, just maybe if she could also find the flower the orphanage lady liked, she won’t be as cross either.

[Wormtongue99]

"Urr, you...uh wanna foller th' young 'un?" Kyslith asked Ace, toying absently at the gauze bandage on her hand.

She took a few steps at the small girl's lead, turning back to see if her male companion would be following. Town awaited Kyslith, and she didn't care how she got there as long as she didn't get stuck in those accursed woods again. As far as she was concerned, her method was quickly leaving her, the pale child stopping only to catch the occasional insect or to pluck a flower. The night carried on, and the undead woman would carry on with it, once again dragging her rusted axe down the dirt path.

Kyslith paused for a moment, raising her newly wrapped hand up to the moonlight in confusion. "Wha-...Oh, yea. Bandages..." She chuckled to herself as she remembered that the child had wrapped her hand just now.

((OOC: I know I posted Kinda short, just trying to move it along now that we sorta have an idea as to what we're doing and where we're going))

[Knave]

Did he want to follow her?

Ace visibly thought over this, his motions illustrating the thinking position, hand on shaven chin. A distant expression captured his expression, as if lost in thought. All executed with precision enough to seem natural, or with a nature of precision. Did he want to follow her? Why, “Of course not.” He emphasized even the negative with a positive. “I'm going to town. You're going to town. I can't think of a reason why there should be any following when the road is our guide, and we are a company.” Theatrics played a role in his speech. It would have been fitting if some disembodied hand held an instrument and played comic music to his role in life.

With heft, he raised the bag to attention on his shoulders, and hit the path to catch up. Yes, he was glad for their company. This darling little girl would be a fine introduction in town. The animals in the forest would have likely surpassed the fear that outweighed the hunger of natural living. Much thanks to the zombie who could not make sense of her mind. Much thanks to the little girl for giving him his passport into human society. Much thanks to them both if he decided to make use of drama, to beef up his story.

Up above, nearing the summit of high, the clouds shed a single tear. It plummeted, reaching terminal speeds, wind shaping it into drop of crystalline perspiration. Nearing earth it whipped passed branches, birds, and leaves with the grace of god. And when it finally met the earth it did so with a violent splash to paint the dead leaves of fall with its make. Insignificant as it was, one drop of rain meant nothing. Soon their would be billions.

[orphans]

Normally rain storms and even thunderstorms were a thing of joy for Azza. She adored the sound of the water pitter-pattering against the world. She even enjoyed running amuck in such conditions but today was different. She wanted to stay as dry as possible to keep the option of sneaking back into bed a possibility. A frown painted itself upon her features as she tilted her head up to the sky to let the water hit her face.

Well, there was only one option left with a rainstorm of this size; dance and make the best of it. That and she wanted to make sure the two travelers were still following her. Azza bounced about on the balls of her feet and made rhythmic but erratic movements with her hands and arms. Eventually she stopped after tripping a few times on overgrown roots and nearly landing in the mud face first.

Her thoughts turned to the warm fire and song of the various bards at the tavern. Perhaps if they hurried they could even catch a few of the better performances. Soon, the lanterns over the tavern and gate could be seen in the worsening weather. Excitement flooded the small girl once more, causing her to turn around and wave frantically for the two to follow. “Hurry! Hurry!”

[Wormtongue99]

A few drops at first, then quickening to countless tiny, cold splashes; the rain fell on the road, turning the dirt to mud. Well at least the town was coming up ahead. The small girl tripped. Kyslith had the urge to go pick her up but steeled herself to try and ignore her more humane urges. She spat instead, not sure if the bead of white that flew with her saliva was foam or a tooth. She looked over to her male companion, he was still smiling. He seemed completly alright with the turn of the weather.

"Hmph.." Kyslith grunted, hefting her ax over her shoulder. She now walked with an odd slump because of the added weight. What was the man's name again? Kyslith pondered for a bit. Eventually it came to her. His name was...Alex? What was the little girl's name?

Forsaking the effort to remember, Kyslith shuffled a little faster to catch up to the little girl. She had a question to ask. With a good amount of huffing, Kyslith strode up beside the pale child. Who'd have thought she'd be so hard to catch up to? Kyslith opened her fetid mouth to ask, but came up blank.

"Errr...Uh, I wanned ter ask ya sumthin'....umm." The undead woman tried to remember, but at long last could not. Instead she came up with a new question. "Wat's yer name?"

Looking up, Kyslith could just make out the faint, flickering glow of a lantern through the increasing drizzle.

[Knave]

Condition? Damp. Likelihood of that lasting, certainty.

Ace brushed at tickle of water rolling down the side of his neck, it was a useless gesture, soon water began to flow. The sound of splashes and steps joined the pattering of water. The fall of rain obscured the darkness, the sea had risen to consume them. Only that which dared to move, and that which loved to dance could be seen. Comfortable, Ace kicked up his pace to short strides. His pack bobbed on each step, the earth sank under his steps, sprays of mud occasionally squishing into the air.

“Hurry, hurry.”

“We're coming, and slow down,” Lawrence called after the child, the nerves of his nose dead to the zombie that trudged next to him. “I don't want your parents getting mad at us if you get hurt.” He wanted her in the best condition, he wanted her to see him at his best, in these ways he was earnest, and his words rang with kindness. For all her enthusiasm, it would be a shame if she were just going to hurt herselt.

“Errr... I... ask... what's yer name?”

Ace heard, the pelting drops of rain drowning out much of the things the revenant farm hand said. A veteran of the acting stage, Ace knew the third person when he heard it. “Azza is Azza, can't you tell?”

[orphans]

Azza remained still in the rain waiting for the two. Kyslith has caught up first with a strange question. "Wat's yer name?" Azza was pretty sure she had told them her name before, but something Ace said made her frown instead of answer Kyslith immediately. That pause gave Ace the chance to answer for her in nearly the exact manner she would have answered herself. Though she would have left out, “can’t you tell?”

Still, the mention of her parents had the small child wondering about the other two while rocking about on her sandals but past experiences had taught her it was rude to ask about someone's parents. More specifically, Azza had made a newcomer to the orphanage cry with the same question before. “Azza don’t know her parents. Azza lives with Mother Holly at the orphanage with everyone with no parents too.” Swaying in the rain, she blinked her eyes every now and then to clear them of water before finally using her hands to shield them in vain.

“Parents are nice though! They give candies to us at the orphanage. Harold’s mother is old and she makes nice bread. Harold share with Azza sometimes if she make extras for him.” It never occurred to the Azza that she had neglected to tell them who Harold was. But that wouldn’t last long as the girl pointed towards the dim lantern in the rain. “Harold is nice man. We say hi to him first!”

[Wormtongue99]

"Yea...let's a go meet, ur...Harold" Kyslith was anxious to get to the tavern. The undead woman looked out over in the direction of where the girl pointed. As she follwed her indicating finger something else caught her eye.

Stumbling and swaying with drunkeness, one of the tavern's patrons had long retired from the establishment to preoccupy himself with trying to find his way home in his innebriated state. Kyslith watched him trudge into an alleyway and begin to relieve himself on the building wall.

A though began to form in Kyslith's rotten head again. A drunkard would be easy prey, he had to havesomething of value about him. Certainly, he was a more worthy adversary than a small girl. Kyslith looked down at Azza.

"I, er...I'll a be right back, yeah?" She patted the youn girl absently as she shuffled over toward the alley way where the drunk had surrendered his quest home to instead lay under a small awning that overung a few bales of straw which he had deemed worthy of a bed. He was out of the rain now, and barely witin view of the nightime street. However, Kyslith had (for a change) set her mind to a resolute descision of the man's fate.

[Knave]

Family, the great workforce, guardians, and the only people it was acceptable to shamelessly ask favors of. Ace or his progenitor had a family once. Ace felt uncomfortable, and grinned like Azza's comments had gone cleanly over his head. Nothing in Ace wanted to really spend much time dwelling on lost people and distant things. They were gone, and so was the brother, and son, he had been. The orphanage sounded like a good place, and he said as much while keeping pace. A clean statement if ever there was one.

A drunken wanderer made a pregnant weaving waddle from the pub ahead past our travelers. Ace's eyes flicked to him in curiosity, then flicked them away to avoid real eye contact. There would be no profit in dealing with him. However, their displaced from death companion soon turned to follow him, he parting punctuated with a question.

“Don't be too long, I don't think this is the place is the kind you'd want to get lost in.”Ace said, as Kyslith lurched into the darkness, ax in hand if he was correct. Hopping/pivoting on his left foot. he cupping his hands over his mouth and called after her,“And whatever you do, be commercial!”

One heel face turn, later, the gigantic bag, and its lumpy iron contents passing over Azza's head, he continued on with his little friend. “So tell me about life in this town. Do you like it here? Anything worth doing? Anyone worth knowing?” He pumped Azza for information.

[orphans]

It was a curious sight to watch Kyslith shamble over after the drunk into the alley. Her naïve nature showed as she called after the lady, “The mister at the bar has bandages!” but unfortunately Kyslith seemed to already be out of earshot. Now, standing with Ace she was ill prepared to be pummeled with questions he asked. Her mind worked furiously to try sort the questions and to attach a reasonable answer to them. At least her own answers seemed reasonable to herself...

“Azza likes living here. Every day after chores Azza can play or help other people do things for coins to buy cake and sweets and to help Mother Holly. Azza likes sweet things but Mother Holly say Azza eat too much sometimes and Azza will get sick but Azza never does.” With the rain still in full force, Azza continued to try and shield her own head from the water with her hands with no results.

Her mind turned to the orphanage keeper after having babbled to the man about nothing important. It was then that an idea dawned on her, and the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that it might work. “Maybe mister Ace can come with Azza to orphanage. Azza maybe not get into that much trouble with Mother Holly then. Ace is nice man so can talk nice to her.”

There was the realization, somewhere in the back of her mind, that perhaps this man would like to just find a place for the night. Rocking about n her heels anxiously in a puddle, she mumbled out, “Or maybe mister Ace could just go and meet Harold. He had nice rooms at the tavern.”

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith looked over her shoulder one last time before shambling into the shadows, the two had begun to converse with one another again. Turning her attention back to the drunk, the pestilent woman walked right up to his sprawled body. She lifted her axe clumbsily, not quite sure how to best deliver the intended blow.

The intoxicated man wrinkled his nose at the odor that marked Kyslith's prescence, he mumbled something unintelligibly, and bobbed his head around, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Mann-o-mma, wha-what da hell izz that-smel..."

Kyslith cut off his words with the dropping of her heavy makeshift weapon. It wasn't quite what she'd intended though. Intead of the envisioned lopping off of the man's head or the cleaving of a skull that the undead woman thought she would inflict upon the drunk, Kyslith sort of glanced the axe off the side of the man's face. He was rendered unconcious and was bleeding quite a bit, but nowhere near dead.

"...hrrm..." was all that escaped from the drunkards lips.

Kyslith sighed, a bit dissapointed in herself, she apparently had a lot to learn about being a successful bandit. She would have to settle for bumbling thief in the meantime.

Kyslith began rifling through the man's pockets and searched his belt for any coin purses, or anything of value for that matter. She came up fairly short. The man had seemingly spent the last of his money at the pub. Frustrated, the necrotic female began to strip the man of his heavy, tattered coat. That was about all he had that did not stink excessively of urine. As a plus it had a deep hood that she might use to conceal her morbid face. Finished with the man, she left hm to his fate in the increasingly cold and wet alley.

Kyslith emerged from the shadows with her new attire. she began to make her way back to the duo, still dragging her axe behind her in the mud.

[Knave]

Two minds met, a parasite and a child. Which isn't to say that they were not enjoying each others company.

Ace kept pace with Azza, fleet of foot, leaving the corpse to whatever business the undead bizzied themselves with, be it murder or simply necromance as the poor pun goes.

At Ace's riffled questions, which in darker context could have been verbal abuse against a minor, Azza looked dazed and confused. Each hit her, and Ace looked down on her with concern as she struggled to prioritize and find just where to start. A "never mind" and change of subject waited behind his dimming smile.

When Azza answered, it was in the way that was most expected: Memories of sweet candied things, interspersed with the people most responsible.

“Mother sounds like she cares, but too much candy can't kill you.” By slight of hand, and a pass over backpack pocket, Ace produced a sweet of the mint and lime green variety. “And it never did me any harm.” He unwrapped it, and ate it with inconsiderate speed. With a crunch, he just as quickly summoned another and made the offer to the little girl.

“Some how, I don't think the orphanage is the place for me to be. Its far too late, and I'm far too big to fit in one of those tiny little beds.” That’s not to say he could not shrink. “Besides, I've got a mission, a plan, perhaps a visit, but not tonight.” But if he ever needed to hide. “I think I'll meet this Harold person, its late, I'm tired, and I believe Kyslith may be dead on her feet as well.”

The orphanage sounded like a fine institution if it gave its children, money sugar and things, but, education wise, Ace had to wonder. What had brought about Azza's third party diction.

[orphans]

Magic tricks! Not only was Ace a nice man, but to Azza, she now associated him as one of the bard. Perhaps even a street magician. She was curious whether or not he knew songs or an instrument. It would explain the rather heavy looking pack he was carrying. As he spoke, she listened to every word as a smile appeared on her lips. They seemed to confirm her beliefs about sweets! How could something taste so good and be evil?

When presented with the same wrapped sweet of mint and lime green, she could hear Mother Holly warning against taking things from those she didn’t know well. But Ace was friendly enough and he even ate one himself. If anything, she could simply pocket it for later consumption. She accepted with a polite, “Thank you,” and stashed it away in a pouch.

Her heart sank when Ace said he would not be arriving with her to the orphanage. She knew that it was a long shot, but it was worth a try. “Say hi to Harold for Azza!” were her parting words to him. If an adult such as him was turning in for the night, chances are that a small child such as her should as well.

The storm showed no signs of receding. Instead, it intensified. The large drops of water themselves stung at the small girl’s body. There was a moment in which Azza fretted about Kyslith’s safety in the rain. That soon passed as she realized Kyslith was an adult and adults could take care of themselves. That and Kyslith was in desperate need for a bath and the rainstorm would see to that.

So heavy was the storm, that the small child didn’t see Kyslith approaching and only by memory of direction, did she know that Ace was making his way towards the tavern. Resigned to her fate of dealing with, most likely, an irate orphanage keeper, Azza trudged in the rain towards home and disappeared from sight, through the curtains of water.

To the child, who was oblivious to the dangers of her world, it warmed her inside thinking she had made two new friends. Little did she know, that their true natures were far more monstrous and sinister that she thought. Ironically, it wasn’t a far cry from her past life as well.

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith plodded thru the rainy street, and only when she'd come back up to Ace she'd realized that the child was gone.

"Er,..um. Wherz da lil 'un." and then her attention fractured again.

"Lookit...gots me a coat, hah!" She announced triumphantly.

The rain poured down harder and harder, the duo were drenched and Kyslith looked around very confused. "Wha-where we going, a-gin?"

Just as she was asking, a couple of patrons made their way out of the tavern, scurrying across the street and under the shelter of an overhang. They quickly made thier way down the street in the wet torrent and dissapeared into another building. This brought Kyslith back to a realization of what they'd been up to before she'd got distracted.

"Right, then...we, er...gonna go to da pub, yeah?" the undead woman shouldered her ax once more and started to make her way toward it's warm, glowing windows. When she got up to the building she didn't go insde, instead she waited for Ace to enter first. He seemed to be more of a people person. Instead, Kyslith contented herself to peering through the smudgy glass and having a look at the patrons inside.

There was an assortment of all types of odd looking folk. Some looked as though they came from distant lands. The majority however, looked harmless enough. It didn't seem like one of those places that got you stared down as you entered.

Kyslith decided to leave her axe outside. It would problably get unwanted attention if she brought a weapon into such a place. Besides, who would steal such a worthless item anyway?

[Knave]

Turning his back on Azza, innocent thing that she was, Ace was glad that she was gone. She was too good for his company. When he had seen her, the light had clung to her. When he had walked with her, he had thought her too innocent for her own good. When rid of her, he wished he the best.

Then he remembered he had never asked where the tavern was. Turning to find her, he realized he was in town and still lost.

“O! K!” Looking this and way, and that, Ace saw no one through the sheets of water piling up on top of him. He thought, his excitement building. He was alone. He could do anything! He could have fun, and play games, and act the caricature he was!

(’Don’t you dare get carried away.’ ) A voice whispered into his mind. Impulses to lie and cheat tainting the thought, rendering it bitter to a cleaner mind. Barely aware, completely controlled, Ace never recognized it for what it was. Himself.

Ace Mandelo instantly realized that he was standing in the rain, and protocol of common sense demanded he go inside. Sulking, and wanting to play in the rain, the act continued. Rain plastered his hair down, a reflexive brush slicked it back, and he froze, irritated by the action. It was something he was not supposed to do.

Setting his bag under the over hang of a nearby building, he rooted for the object of his desire. Something that would change how the world saw him. He shifted holy water, unearthed crucifixes, found a pair of woman’s trousers which he seldom wore, before finding it. Dusting the firm fabric, popping the leathery brown microphant ape hide into the correct shape, he donned his hat. It was broad, and drawn, shadowing his bright face, shielding him from the rain. He was soaked, no point in getting a coat, just something to keep the rain out of his eyes.

Reorganizing, because some part of him was rabid for order, Ace hefted his bag, and proceeded down the street. The rain must have dulled the sound of footsteps, because he never saw when Kyslith arrived. This time she had appeared behind him. Unable to show fear, Ace gave a smile instead of a start when the zombie drew near and spoke.

“Where’d she go?” He doubted he not see her again, and if Kyslith stayed he could say the same.“ Home, back to wherever little girls like that come from.” The rain clouded his vision, but Ace did his best to smile and shine through it, his head tilting up, water pouring over the deep end down his back.

Nearly dancing, the zombie showed her latest acquisition, a coat far too large for her. It suited her as best as anything could, unable to show the bones of her curves. Triumphant, and confused, they walked together in the rain soon finding their destination.

At the end of the road, Kyslith still asked where they were going. Concern flickered on the range of Ace’s emotions, but instead he looked on, and pointed straight ahead. “The lights are on, and whatever’s up ahead calls. I think that’s the best sign of where we should go.”

Waiting at the door, Ace watched his undead friend saunter away to stash her axe where he assumed she thought no one would find it. About to open the door and lead the way into pub, Ace paused, turning a grin and eye to Kyslith. “I think this suits you more than me.” Removing the broad hat, he set it on Kyslith’s head to complete the ensemble. “See! Looks good on you!”

Opening the door, he stepped inside.

Barking Joe would be the first to see them arrive, wet beyond any reason, out later than any sanity justified. One so alive it hurt to look at him this late at night. The other a bundle, its coat familiar, its walk a strange limp. Rudy cheeked, Barking Joe had stowed his liquors, but of course had enough for himself. By nature he looked rough, even when sauced on his ass and bored out of his mind watching the door, a place to cool his head now invaded by the unexpected.

“Two rooms, and whatever meat you’ve still got on fire.” The red headed youth blasted the man with both raw energy and shocking charm, both of which were startling to the barkeep. Stunned into flailing motion, he fell from his chair with a shout, a roll backwards, and a heavy thud against the ground soon sent him crashing into slumber.

Ace leaned over the counter, checking to make sure his host was alive, then turning back to Kyslith he uttered only three words. “We’ll seat ourselves. You can choose.”

[Wormtongue99]

Ace finally came up to the building into which Kyslith had been peering. He hels open the door for her, a strange act that brought a flicker of a memory back to the rotten female. She almost recalled something from her mortal past, but it quickly faded away. As she walked by her over-friendly comrade, he plopped a hat onto her head as she made her way inside. This both startled and confused her, and she stood still as Ace passed her and walked over toward the bar counter.

Kyslith looked around. There were small groups of people huddled together around the old tavern tables. A few were rowdy and loud with drink, while others were incapacitated by it. She didn't particularly care to be near any of them. Instead she slowly wandered back toward Ace at the bar. She arrived in time for him to laden her with a directive.

"You can choose"

"Er..Um, that 'un over there?", Kyslith motioned toward a relatively empty corner of the room. She didn't wait for a response. Instead she put her hands in her coat pockets and scurried over to an empty table, all the while keeping her hatted head down. Now that she was around so many people, she felt uncomfortable. People usually meant trouble for her.

She sat with an awkward motion, her apparel catching on the back of the chair as she struggled to seat herself. Eventually she brought herself to a position she was satisfied with, the dim, flickering glow of a tiny candle cast a shadow over her face from the rim of the large hat Ace had donned on her. She waited nervously for her partner, absently fidgeting with a small piece of parchment she'd found in one of the coat pockets. She turned it over in her boney fingers, folding it and unfolding it as she looked around to see if anyone would upset the room into an angry mob at the recognition of her decayed state.

[Knave]

Characteristically stumbling through her words, Kyslith pointed out their table and made her way to it. Short, coat donned, and face concealed she was a sight to see, and see they did, those drunken night owls. They watched out of the corners of their eyes, men’s beards bristled, the moustaches of the waitresses wrinkled upon her lips, still they said nothing. These were good people; they would judge their visitors by their deeds and drink. Sure, he/she(it was not really an option to them) smelled bad, but a bath was a hard thing to come by in a century without running water, so no one said much about that either.

While pretending to not be paying attention to one, the majority of of the waitresses missed the other, Ace sidling up. The nearest one, leaning on a bar half-dead on her all nighter, visibly jumped when she spotted him five or eight inches away, Ace too looking like he was not paying attention, gazing off at nothing, then gazing down at her.

He was soggy, lean, and grinning. When she looked at him, she felt old, and when he looked at her, he felt nothing. Stunned she fell back on instinct, “What’ll you have?” she said, her alarm dying. He looked… manic, but harmless as he slid his bag from his shoulders.
The growl of his stomach reverberated in his words, a growling back drop. “Meat. Whatever is still hot, and meat.” He said, watching her face for a reaction. “I could do with it raw, I’ll pay you to butcher something now if you can.” There was urgency in his voice, he looked famished, eye open, hands shaking. Just about anything would do.

“Gold piece’ll buy ye a few ‘unks of beef and a cold stew. Another will get ye all the ale ye can ‘andle.” She replied, offering the midnight special of cold beef and piss poor liquor, gauging his clothes to weigh the gold of his sack, and the size of the tip. “Anything after that, ye got to talk to the boss behind you.” She said, indicating the slumped, wheezing form of the night shift barman. “If your not brave enough to wake him, you can try your luck with Walter up stairs, at least he doesn’t drink himself out of money and consciousness before bed.”

While she talked of things Ace could never care less about, he shoved his hand into one of several pockets and drew out sixteen pieces of gold, glinting, shiny and new. “You can have it all and more if you keep the food coming.” Palm up he offered the price to eat everything they had to offer.

Smirking, incredulous, Cherry Amrah collected a months rent with greedy, calloused fingers. “Anything you need, you’ve got.” She said, a charm reserved for the wealthy now shining through. Suddenly less tired, she went on to find his meal.

Leaving his money to leave him, and waiting for his food to return, Ace found Kyslith at a table in the corner. The nearest tables, still at a distance, were filled with the elderly, the greasy, the shameful, talking, drinking, playing cards, and laying stakes. At least a few were watching young Mandelo now. Dragging his bag up, Ace flopped into his seat, never fatigued, but unbearably hungry from all that walking.

“Y’know, I’ve got a good question.” Ace said, leaning over the table to gaze into the shadows of his companion. “Are you hungry?” Ace had seen a good deal of the corpse, enough to know that not much was in working order. If Kyslith craved anything, but brains, he had to wonder what.

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith watched Ace as he paraded about the tavern. He was cheery, he was always cheery, Kyslith found this strange. Most people she knew in life were generally callouse or glum about the world. Even the bar patrons were scowling and arguing, despite the abundance of alchohol.

Ace sat down next to her, askng if she wanted anything to eat. 'Eat'. The word had little meaning to her now. Her body slowly regenerated of it's own means now, and she didn't feel the pang of hunger. In fact, she doubted she even had a stomach to fill anymore.

"No, I'm...a alright. I don't eat n'more." Kyslith held out a boney hand to indicate her immortal state. She'd already forgotten about the piece of parchment she'd found in her pocket. It now lay half unfolded on the tabletop. She decided to question Ace about his strange attitude.

"Why're ya always 'appy, eh?" She stared at the parchment as she asked. Wodering where it had come from. She briefly recalled toying with it, but couldn't remember if it had already been there or not.

[Knave]

In the time for his question to arc through the air and reach his deceased companion, Ace’s meal arrived. True to his waitress’ word the meal was little more than murky water, and mournful looking meat cleanly ripped from the bones it had previously clung to. Wilted greens of what could have easily been both asparagus and parsley floated like dead leaves in the soup. A sad sight was complimented by a sweet looking piece of bread promising more than it could possibly deliver, and the wink of the rustic woman who offered it. A second bowl arrived next to its brother, cracks breaking up the images of its flowers.

Regarding none of these things, our man Ace ate with the grace of diving dolphins and rampaging elephants. Whatever control he maintained established him as something of a messy eater while ensuring he never submerged in his dish.

The zombies words reached him as a large chunk of day old wheat vanished from the loaf. Dipping his bit of bread back into the oily broth, Ace regarded his dinner date with all the innocence of a child, not a flicker of intelligence to show him any wiser, or any less kind. Only fools would trust face value, and Ace used it well.

While he ate, Kyslith questioned him on why he was so happy, and Ace didn’t like that at all. The change was subtle, no great difference to be made, but that jovial smile, all tooth and grin, faded to a smaller smile bordering on dejected. It was as if she had insulted his character by questioning his attitude.

“I’m happy because there is no reason to be sad.” He said, his hunger on a brief hold, his expression growing serious while still friendly. “This is the face of man destined for big things, a smile that shines to shine on the way ahead. There will be a lot of shadows in the future, and just between you and me,“ because no one would ever believe you, “ There will be a lot of shadows in the future, and shadows always need a bit of light.”

“Now, “ Ace ducked the issue, running from the question, “I don’t think you’ll need to grow big and strong,” He pushed forward the other bowel, “but you’ve still got a tongue, and isn’t that reason enough to use it. Not to be pushy, but have you tried having a drink?” The memory of her, politely put, avant-garde scent spoke volumes about Kyslith’s sentence in her grave, and just how long it had taken her to escape/rise from it.

The piece of paper now revealed sat on the table. Pieces of lettering revealed only to be crushed under the parchment. Mr. Mandelo, Mister Smile and Wave, regarded it as scrap and garbage, the fading seriousness within him disgusted by the sight of trash. “Is that important?” The shape shifter asked between mouthfuls, the urge to brush it away apparent.

[Wormtongue99]

Ace’s explanation sat strange with Kyslith. Big things? Shadows? She attempted to contemplate his reasoning but the tangibility was soon lost to her rotten mind. She instead watched as the man devoured everything in his sight as though it was to be his last meal.

Ace’s continuing insistence of at least partaking in a drink piqued the undead woman’s curiosity of the indulgence. She only had a broken memory of an alcohol induced experience in her former life. She wondered if it would have the same effect on her now. Again, Kyslith’s thought were shattered as Ace pointed out the scrap of paper on the table.

She stared at the dirty paper blankly for a couple of seconds, attempting to recall it’s validity. Miraculously, she managed to put together it’s origin.

“Yeah, I...uh. I found it in me pocket.” She reached over and picked it away from Ace, suddenly afraid that he might use her prize for a napkin if she did not keep it from his ravenous appetite.

She unfolded it, looking it over for a second the turning it sideways. Another moment passed and she flipped it upside down. Kyslith sheepishly set the unfolded paper down in front of her on the bread crumb strewn table.

“I can’t…ur…I don’t read…ehh, Wat’s it say?” She admitted in a downtrodden tone, head hung low in embarrassment. To her all she saw were a great many scribbles and swirls in lines of varied lengths. What she could make out were the many drawings of paths entwining in wooded regions, a faded red line coursed across the paper eventually leading to an illustrated shore and across it to an island.

[Knave]

No sense of smell, no taste to begin with, the memories of sweet meats and baked bread’s fragrance gave the need for food a quality to its priority.

Ace could believe the illusion as he believed in himself; he did not crave the truth. Instead, he made light of conversation. “Now that’s the spirit. Initiative,” a drop of hot broth fell from the tip of his finger as he pointed, “while I was getting my meal on, you went and did something useful.” The next bowl arrived; the hawk of some poor beast looking like it had been cooked twice in hell and was ready for its next trip.

Rain water slowly trickling down the sides of his neck, and bumps rose up in the chill air. Ace’s eyes wandered from the girl across the table. Several old men were playing, the glint of diamonds and hearts in their eyes, their expressions hidden behind their cards. Unfocused, Ace could hear the shuffle of money, and grunts of approval for both money and him.

Transparent, he was obviously wondering just what to say. He supposed he ought to ask about her hobbies and interests, that was what he was supposed to do on these sorts of things wasn’t it? Glasses clicked, and suds ran in wet pitter-pattering against the rotted kitchen floor. He could hear the lichen grow, and it was annoying.

Self-awareness was one of those things Ace had been born without, but there were always things he had to discover on his own. While Kyslith’s mind was wandering as to which thought came first in the composition of a sentence, Ace’s was running, and tripping over itself as just what to do next or even now.

Somewhere in his musings, his bowl had grown empty, and he tipped the bowl to the side, idly waiting for more. The situation was best thought of as the remains of his meal. On the one hand he felt bad just leaving it. On the other hand, he was strictly forbidden to reveal much about himself, like how he could swallow whole bones. That’d be interesting, but again, not normal.

Finally, enough time had gone by in those few seconds for Kyslith, to rescue him from the pit he was digging himself into. Could he read it? Yes he could! “Sure, let me take a look.” The paper was in his hands in a second, and its contents were laid bare moments later. Pock marks, mold, strange fluids, and what was obviously pocketed alcohol covered the edges and lined the seems.

“Looks like a list, with instructions. Collecting ritualistic conch shells...Leprechaun gold dust... macrophant tusks... scaling mermaids!?” The list was rather short, but it looked to be the ingredients for some spell of questionable intent and power. Clearly, whoever had had this last had tried to drown his conscience in alcohol.

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith tried very desperately to comprehend the odd manerisms that her newly aquired partner displayed. He always seemed to be looking about and observing. What he was observing, Kyslith could only guess. She would follow his gaze, and find nothing of interest or importance. She then tried to remember what was considered to be a normal sized meal. The undead woman had the vaugest suspicion that it should have been incredibly difficult for a man to eat the way Ace did. Ace then answered her question, and once again sent Kyslith's thoughts to scatter like insects to a sudden illumination.

"...A list?" She questioned. "In-sru-shuns fer what?" her rotted tongue stumbling on the complex word. She then perked up with a novel thought. "Ye thinkin' it ma' be sumthin' m'portent?". She leaned in close to the zealous man to look over the paper Ace had plucked from her boney fingers, hoping that it would somehow reveal to her something it previously hadn't. It did not.

Suddenly the idea of a drink returned to her from out of nowhere. Kyslith looked around for the barmaid. A rising shout of general disdain heralded the end of a round of cards at a nearby table, and the barmaid appeared to fetch dirty glasses. Kyslith momentarilly forgot herself and waved the woman over. After a brief leave to the bar to deposit the beer mugs, the woman returned to The table at which the duo sat.

"Whatch'a be needin, then?" the woman looked up at Kyslith and tried in vain to stifle a look of disgust. Fortunately for the fetid femme, the clothes and cap did their work of displaying her as only a foul specimen of mortal and not her true self.

"I'd..er, like a drink. A..er..." Kyslith tried desperately to remember a name, any name of a drink that a pub would offer. " uh...porter?" Kyslith asked, hoping that she wasn't instead asking for something as rediculous as a type of cheese.

"Alright, be right back." The barmaid left all to quickly to retrieve Kyslith's beverage.

The zombie woman turned to Ace and smiled a black-toothed grin (no pun intended) at her mild conquest over her social stigma. She then looked back down at the weathered paper before them.

"Wat's that?",She pointed at it curiously.

[Knave]

Cherry Amrah watched her table.

Previously, she and her compatriots in their war against the night and the night owls had been watching with growing concern for what appeared be a stomach without end. Passing brief whispers they watched Ace eat as if food was a new concept he had only recently discovered.

There was no uncooking cooked food, but they soon realized that if another dozen bowls were sent to the table they would soon find them selves on the short end of the stick.

Another bowl arrived, slid across the table with an astonished half-smile. “Doesn’t say.” Ace said, turning the paper in his hands, something inside of him trying to recoil from the filth, a dominant thought trying to be born from instinctive rejection. Unclean. Ace laid it down on the table and did his best to spread the crushed paper open, smoothing it out with the back of his hand against the rugged table. Fluids drained from the paper, leaving something of a soggy mess surrounded by what would now be thought of as water.

It was still legible, but in a pitiful state. Paper ruined, its contents opened for all to see, though only one could really decipher it.

“Rule of thumb on the matter of writing,” He leaned across the table, clearly intent on conspiring with his undead companion, “Is that if anyone has the schooling, the knowledge,” he tapped the side of his skull indicating a brain assumed to be there, “then its worth its ink and paper - not that there aren’t exceptions.” He said driving the point of his finger down right on the bits about mermaids. “Not that there aren’t exceptions, people of letters and type seem to be fond of fantasy.”

Conspirators they were, they baffled a good many of the people whose senses of thought and smell were utterly human and thus vulnerable to theses strangers presence. Ace and Kyslith had failed to make a scene, but were a point of interest deserving of sideways glances through the darkness of dim lanterns, and the at times eye watering scent of the fire places flame.

“Now, as a seaman - trained, not raised - I know a good bit about marine life.” Ace’s grin widened. “I know for a fact that mermaids are real.” He looked ready for adventure… or mischief. “Both the fresh water and the sea herself have what we’re looking for.” Of course, in land, in fresh water, meant one place and one thing. Bayou country, the marshlands.

“You look like your from around here.” Ace said, sliding the sodden sheet of paper toward Kyslith, its map and directions not very clear to him having just arrived. “Time changes things slowly, shouldn’t look too different from anything you’ve seen in your day.”

The waitress, clad as she was in her best (,but still rather poor) work frock, did her best to sound unconcerned, “It’s a bit late; not that anyone without eyes or a sense for god fearing hours can’t tell.” Her gaze passed through graying, golden locks, and while she had caught some of what they were saying the vast majority of it went unheard. “Will that be all for you this evening?”

Back behind the bar, a sleeping drunk was roused.

[Wormtongue99]

Peering once again at the badly worn and smeared parchment, Kyslith attempted once more to interpret anything from it. This time instead of looking at the sigils and scribbles, she observed the drawings of the countryside and landmarks. Most of what she might have recognized was clouded behind the degeneration of her once mortal brains. However, one particular object rung true and jolted recognition from her direly decomposed memories.

As poor a representation as it was, there was no mistaking it. The statue of the Mourning Mother. It was well known to passerby's on the road leading through the northern hills.

"I know that!" Kyslith announced happily as she landed a dirty finger onto the paper, sputtering in her excitement. " I used ta leave flu'wers fer me momma..." Her voice trailed off as a sad and distant memory trickled into existence. "...meh momma, she died. Me an meh pah, we'd..err, go leave 'er flu'wers at th' statue."

Her revisitation of the past was interrupted by the barmaid. As the she approached she spoke. Kyslith averted her face downward to hide beneath her large clothing. She'd hoped that the woman had come to deliver her drink. She seemed only to want them to consider the option of leaving very soon.

"I kin take ya ther." Kyslith spoke more quietly to Ace with the additon of the waitress to their presence.

[Knave]

Dull metal glinted in the light, a fork danced the soup‘s surface, diving, piercing, retreating in a rhythmic dance of consumption. When the last piece of solid meat vanished from the broth, the fork stirred idly, no longer the point of Ace’s interest.

She had his interest, she had offered him a strange possibility for the future. Without worry for composure, he leaned forward to get a better view of where the future lay, and just what he would do. When the corpse said she knew where the mark was, Ace smiled with satisfaction. Then she told him why she knew the place. His smile melted appropriately, he remained semi-standing and still.

He looked hesitant, his mouth inches from opening. Consoling words came to mind, the tongue refused to move, clearance not yet given. Any gesture would do, but Ace couldn‘t bring himself to make them. The executive meddling of one mind on another finally ended, Ace sat back down, his expression for the first time bordering serious, though not unkind. The teeth forced their way to the surface, his lips curved up, his eyes smiled.

Ace spoke slowly, measuring his words, for once obviously thoughtful. “Its always good to pay respects to the dead. I think I’ll put down a few flowers for my parents.” Maybe one for the man I had been. “I don’t think I’ve done that for a long time.” How many years? “Hate to say it, but I think I’ve disappointed them.” A world choc full of orphans… telling her this much doesn’t matter.

Oh how human he could be, and how wrong.

The waitress arrived to shoo him from the table, using a question to tell him to leave.

“Yes.” Kyslith had disturbed him, there was something in his tone which echoed in the mind, a stinging numbness. “I paid for all I could eat, I think I’m done.” He spared her his blinding smile, a tool to sooth the bitter taste he could leave behind. He didn’t bother watching her go, but he listened to her mutter, he listened to her whine, he listened to the croaking of a man shaking off what might have been death behind the bar counter.

Returning to Kyslith, he found her with a proposal. A place between there and here where he could give his parents their due. Who knew? Sentimentality still dwelled in his soul.

“We’ll be sure to pay our respects then.” Reaching to the lamp that sat against the wall between them, Ace dimmed the lights. “But, that’s on the way, so I take it we’ll be going fishing?” The light flared as he twisted the black greasy knob. “Just so there’s no surprises, most of that list falls under the barony’s protection. Poaching’s the crime, and that Leprechaun gold is just plain theft.” The gleam of mischief was in his eye, a look that said, ‘Let’s take everything they have.’

[Wormtongue99]

Kyslith stood, snatching up the paper as she did so. She folded it over twice and shoved it into her deep coat pocket. The thoughts of her dead mother had made way to the novel idea of the crime and theft that ace had so explained. She once again entertained her fantasy of becoming a renowned bandit.

The barmaid had given them her leave, and the undead woman eagerly edged toward the door. Looking at Ace like an excited child about to go on some long awaited trip, Kyslith adjusted her vestment as she bumbled toward the building’s exit. The room had all but cleared itself entirely; only a small amount of staff on hand left to clean up after the remaining patrons would leave. She motioned to Ace, who still was at their table.

“Letsa go then, Ace.” Kyslith had a great motivation when the possibilities of banditry arose, just like her encounter in the alleyway earlier. Her shambling gait and skittish nature seemed to disappear to instead bear an eager and driven individual, however inexperienced she may be.

The image of a woodcutting axe jumped into the corpse’s mind. Suddenly, Kyslith remembered she did not have her simple axe in her possession. ‘Where’d it go?’, she thought to herself. Once again the extraordinarily short termed memory of the rotten girl had done ill by her. She looked over to Ace, a confused look across her mottled face.

“Wher’s me axe?”

[Knave]

Ace had triggered in Kyslith something the shape shifter had thought still dead: Life. Somewhere beneath the disguise, within that insect infested form, she had ambition. Sadly, reason continued to escape the undead.

The table shook violently as Kyslith gathered up the map and made for the door without the slightest interest in planning. Ace was still staring at where she had been when the zombie moved past him, shambling quickly toward their exit. Ace turned in his seat surprised, a question on his lips that turned back at the last second. No, he did not have to ask where she was going.

Having eaten enough to fuel his body several days, Ace stood, grabbed his pack by its shoulder straps, and made his way for the door. The weight of the world alleviated by a new companion, and an inner desire for the world itself with all it’s people, Ace followed. “Right behind you!” He pivoted on his heels, and popped into the air giving a small wave to the people he had only just now met. “I’ll be back for the rest of my meal. Name’s Ace and I’ve still got gold on my tab!”

Turning about face, this time on the balls of his feet, he came to a halt. He had nearly crashed into Kyslith, but that is not what had caused him to stop so abruptly. When he stopped, he had stopped so close to her as to enter that hanging darkness between hat’s brims and coat’s collar so that they, he and her, were face-to-face, and eye-to-eye.

“Where’s my axe?” She asked.

Ace took an extra second to answer. Ace’s eyes were good in the darkness; they were very good. Smile never leaving, he flashed his teeth, and shined his eyes. “Just outside, saw you heading ’round the corner.” He backed away second later, thanking himself for his forethought in killing his nose early on in his meeting with Kyslith. “You didn’t have it with you when you came back.” He moved around her, more nimble than he should be opening the door to the early morning darkness and fading rain.

A fog swept covered the beaten street, and a gust of cold air rushed into the room.

Can I request all gold to be transfered into EXP as a spoil?

[Wormtongue99]

Walking back out into the grey, cool air, Kyslith scurried around the corner keeping the last words of her 'friend' in mind. There her axe lay, unmoved and unminded by anyone that might have passed it. Quickly picking it up and shouldering its splintered wooden haft, Kyslith turned back to face the pub once again. She waited with childlike anticipation for her partner to emerge from said tavern.

North. North till the Merchant road, then east. Although largely unsure as to her current whearabouts, the undead woman had managed to pry from the ichorous tendrils of her diluded thoughts the generalization of familiarity as to the direction of the statue of the Mourning Mother. She'd visited it often enough during her life. It was a famed well enough that if they should get sidetracked, another traveler might easily point them in the right direction.

There was only one problem. Kyslith had no idea which road led north. She looked over to Ace in the doorway once again, struggling to maintain the solidarity of her thoughts. She had managed to keep a single though together with a burning intensity that demanded her attention. Crime. And through that, she could attain fame. Now her fantasy had a chance to realize itself. Now that she had someone that might help her out, or at least keep her out of trouble.

'What was his name again?'

[Zerith]

Entering From Afar.

As always, I’d like to thank you guys for the read. I know you all put some work and effort into this and it hasn’t gone unnoticed, but there are a few things that I think could have been improved.

While your Setting and Persona were good, I couldn’t help but feel like things such as Pacing and Continuity were lacking. At one point, I wasn’t really sure if the story was going anywhere, but I was pleased when the parchment spiced things up.

Knave, I didn’t really understand why Ace was in this circumstances to begin with. Yes, he just arrived on shore, but where did he come from? Or what was driving him on his journey in the first place. Perhaps when starting a thread you should ask yourself why is it taking place? Is there an explanation?

Wormtongue, I liked your dialogue and was amused with the short-term memory. Like Artemis, I suggest that you or a friend proofread some of your posts as there were frequent typos or misspellings. Other than that, it was interesting to see a zombie with something other than brains at the forefront of her mind.

Azza, I hope to god that my daughter doesn’t act like this little girl someday. If I was mother Holly, I would be furious if she arrived home that late. Azza’s character is largely innocent and naïve at this point in time, but part of me thinks that she should have been a little more scared to encounter a walking corpse. In your defense though, I can understand that Azza probably never realized what she encountered

I’m only mentioning these things due to a lack of participation from others. Though now it is time for the rubric! Should any of you have any questions, feel free to ask me anytime.



STORY – 13


CHARACTER - 17


WRITING STYLE - 15


WILD CARD- 4


FINAL SCORE - 49!


Rewards:

Knave receives 783 EXP as requested!

Wormtongue receives 636 EXP and 353 GP!

Orphans receives 460 EXP and 196 GP!

Wormtongue also keeps the worn, used coat she stole from the drunkard, Though upon closer inspection it seems there may be a small hole in the left pocket, but it shouldn't be too hard to fix. Either way, it does a good job of concealing her grotesque form from prying eyes.

[Silence Sei]

Exp-GP added.