Green Grass and High Tides

[Silence Sei]

((Closed to knaveofspades and Valanthe))

Even with the rain droplets pelting his face, time seemed to be in fast forward around Sei Orlouge. The Mystic had been staring into what seemed like nothingness for several minutes, reflecting on his most recent adventures. He had been chosen as the Champion of the Thaynes; the sole person responsible for guiding wandering spirits of the dead to where they belonged. Before he could be acknowledged as the true Champion, however, he had to earn the blessing of each of the seven Thaynes.

He had gained the trust and respect of six. That was why he was in Bal Cada.

Rumors of the Goddess V'dralla abandoning her people seemed to have some merit. The boat ride to the small island nation was filled with hazards. Sei shuddered as he remembered gripping the ropes in the middle of a hurricane and attempting to tie the sails to his ship back together. It seemed as though the terrible storm had followed him here. Perhaps that was why time seemed to be going by so quickly; everyone was in a rush to prepare for the wrath of their home deity.

A hand gripping Sei's shoulder brought him back into the true motions of the world. Shifting his eyes towards the dainty fingers, Sei moved his palm outwards and let out a sigh. "Return my things, Tobias," Sei 'told' the elven woman. Tobias Greenleaf giggled as she placed Sei's Gemini Blades back in the sheath Anita had custom made for her father.

"Just makin' sure you were payin' attention, Boss." Tobias Greenleaf was a former thief and current kleptomaniac. Not the best of combinations considering the green haired girl was one of the primary instructors on speed and agility for Sei's Ixian Knights. Tobias' green eyes shifted upwards towards the dark clouds, the rain seemingly more attracted to her features than anyone else’s. "Think it's an omen?"

"If it is, I don't know about what. I've heard that V’dralla has mood swings constantly. Perhaps this is just one of her whims over breaking a nail or something." Sei's joke seemed to irk Tobias a bit. The corners in her red lips twitched a bit, as if breaking nails was some sort of taboo with her. "Back in the Brotherhood, we were taught that if you lost a piece of you takin' a piece of them, then you failed."

Sei turned his back to the girl, not wanting to think about her tenure with the Bandit Brotherhood. He was here for one reason and one reason alone. He was going to find V’dralla and gain her blessing. Perhaps then the telepath could become the champion the rest of the Thayne told him he was. Of course, it was going to be hard to find the patron Goddess when so many people sought her out for her immortality water...

[Knave]

Tablas laid back in his hammock, one hammock among many in the ships belly, one of the few that could not sleep — he never slept. Weeks at sea, and while he closed his eyes, he had never been given a release from consciousness.

Instead, green eyes stared up at the roof, appropriately placed were the dark rings around them, and the static frown. Tablas had not yet decided what kind of man he was, but by the end, after adopting the man’s name, face, and life, he would know. He wore the Tablas' thread bare tunic, he wore the man’s pants, he wore his wedding ring too. He admired the ring in the flickering lamp light, thinking of what it meant and how much it was worth at the same time.

“Aye, Taaaby…” A voice called from the hammock to his right, the scent of bootlegged alcohol drifting in with the syllables like some ill wind. Sylva rolled in his hammock, still too asleep to open his eyes, not quite sober enough to try, but aware enough to know that his night shift companion had adopted some odd sleeping patterns.

“Go back to dream land, Sylva. You’ll find better company than anything else on this ship.” Tablas remembered the moans and snorting coos the seaman had made every night… every single night. The shape-shifter rolled to the edge of his hammock sat up, his boots clicking the ground lightly with all due consideration, he did not want Sylva’s company in the waking world. ‘Not now, just not now.’ Rest was a necessity, and the only kind Tablas could have was silence.

“You know why we’re headed for this ocean blasted island?” The man groaned, yawning, rolled into his hammock and toward those sweet cabin dreams. “The captain ain’t the sort of man who wantstaa live forevah.” The spirit of spirits softened his tongue, and slurred his words as he mumbled more, and understood less of what was coming out of his mouth.

“Truth to form, he’s just like the rest of us.” Tablas said, as he walked outside, voicing his opinions on humanity as if he were still part of it. “He doesn’t believe in the treasure, so he won’t risk his life, but he believes other people will—and that’s reason enough to take their money and send them wherever life takes them.” ‘Or death.’ Tablas finished with a chuckle that was realistic while still false. Shutting the door behind him, the wretched shrieking of the hinges a punctuation mark to a conversation he had nothing to gain from, Tablas made way for the deck.

He paid no attention to the filth that would have otherwise disturbed him, or the utter disarray the ship took on when not in port. The poor vessel that it was, made from salvage and slag, the droppings of better vessels clearly passing the ship by. Drift wood made up the ships timbers in places where oak had not been in supply enough to fill.

Free to go where he pleased, the shape-shifter often found his only limit was himself, and that required him to be other people. Adopting a new face, feeling out the relationships that man had once had, twisting them to whatever needs he required… it was what he did, and it was what he knew he had to do.

He entered onto the deck, and greeted the wretch rain soaked day with a smile that skewed first left then right, and a small yawn. The island was days away, and while the captain of the ship might not have believed in Thayne spirits, or the fact of immortality, Lawrence knew the gods were real. He had come to observe one in its home. He had come to learn from them how a god should act. Then he would steal from them at all costs. Immortality was a thing worth dying for.

[Valanthe]

Valanthe was on the rails, holding on tightly least she fall overboard. Her thoughts were on the island ahead, and why she had been sent there. The Omnisource came to her in a dream, showing her the path to the island, directing her to V'dralla's shrine. Her goal wasn't the water of immortality, rather it was simple meditation. The purpose behind it, or so Valanthe believed, was to increase her connection with nature.

But if this Hurricane kept up, no one would be making it to V'dralla's island. An old sailor stood nearby, watching the storm with her. He rode the waves and bore the storm with such ease, he may as well have been taking a stroll through a park on a sunny day. His black breeches were ragged and faded to brown, his shirt had faint blue stripes running across it. A red rag adorned his head. As he turned to face Valanthe, the decades of experience on the seas became visible upon his visage. This man had become as much a part of the ocean as the water that comprised it.

“Are ye afeared lass? Don't be, this storm is nothing, just a slight breeze to cool off with.” The old sailor said.

“Nothing? A slight breeze? Are you mad? It rips at the sails and tears at the planks in the deck. If it doesn't subside soon, we're finished.” Valanthe said sternly. It wasn't so much that she was afraid, not for her life, but everyone else on the ship was the target of her concerns. After all, she could turn into a fish and swim to shore. Could everyone else do the same?

“No lass, this isn't anything to fear. Sure, this old scow will suffer some damage, but not so much she'll sink. Let me tell you about the time I ran afoul of Leviathan out in another part of the ocean. Ran plum across his tail I did.” The old sailor said.

“No, thanks, I really should get below decks. This storm may not be much to you, but it's something I really don't want to be in. I had hoped we'd be to the island by now, but I guess I was wrong.” Valanthe said, then without further excuses, moved off.

She went below decks where she could attempt to dry off. Unfortunately, there was no privacy, so she couldn't strip off and wring her green robes out. She'd dry her clothes out, but she didn't have that much control over the elements, and would likely burn the ship down in the process. So instead, she lay down in an empty hammock, near one fellow who was simply staring at the roof. She prayed the hurricane would end soon, or better, that they would arrive at the island.

There was one thing she could do to make herself more comfortable, and that was the simple task of pulling her long white hair out of her face. She wasn't an old woman, she was merely half drow, half high elf. Part of her wished she was back home with her husband in their little grove in Concordia. They had been there for awhile now, simply studying nature, and the universe in general. Her husband was a wizard though, and longed for a tower to live in, instead of the wide protective branches of the forest. Valanthe wondered what her husband was up to, and decided he had either wondered off to study in a library again while neglecting food, health, and the rest of society, or was once again, trying to simply will a small stone tower into being. He'd fail of course, but that never stopped him on other occasions.

[Silence Sei]

Sei and Tobias stood on the deck as rain washed over their features, sticking the hairs of the warriors to their faces. There didn't seem to be anybody up at this late hour, something Sei was truly enjoying. It seemed as though most people were concerned about sleeping in the storm than actually being in it. Sei couldn't sleep, however, not when his quest for the Thaynes was so close to complete. Sei looked to Tobias to see her shuddering, the sound of footsteps quickly approaching the two. "I've been around Anita too long," Tobias said, "I just got the willies from that guy."

Sei turned around to try and see the person Tobias was referring to. Sei saw the green eyes of Tablas and was instantly struck with thoughts of horror. It seemed Anita's ability to sense the supernatural was rubbing off on both members of the party. Sei quickly approached the man with the tunic, trying to keep his calm about the sense of urgency swelling up in his gut. Surely there was nothing this ferocious on such a plain looking ship?

"You look like you have an eye for adventure. Otherwise, you wouldn't be out here so late." Sei was testing the waters of this person, making sure he wasn't the fiend that Tobias and himself were making him out to be. The mute thought that he had seen this man with the rest of the crew earlier in the night, but the altered features due to rain droplets was making it difficult to tell.

"Sei Orlouge, at your service," Sei spoke with a smile that probably would be seen in a few brief moments of clarity between clouds. As Tobias' own light footsteps came up behind the mute, he began to introduce his friend. "This is Tobias Greenleaf, former Bandit Brotherhood member. Current instructor for the Ixian Knights. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

[Knave]

Pin pricks of emerald light shined as the rugged, ocean fared face of Tablas slowly shifted with the pace of his stride. Sun touched, and naturally swarthy, he caste furtive glances to the island that had appeared on the horizon hours ago. The quiet steps he took sent up hard waves on the water logged deck. ’The time for desertion could never be nearer.’ he thought, eager for escape.

Sheets of water fell, and refreshed a weary mind with a kindness he knew he did not deserve. Raising a hand to his face, Lawrence pressed his eyes shut, and for just the briefest of moments he enjoyed being alone. Much as a plant could drown in water, he suspected that, 'I have had enough.' Not even in his own room did he have privacy, and in truth, privacy is what all charlatans desire when the stage is not ready.

As time passed, and that which would be a man entered into the company of people, a preternatural sense for suspicion filled Tablas. Green eyes shifting, a hand working the stubble of his jaw, he searched and found that stare he knew would be there. The man heading the shape-shifter’s way made no secret of his approach. Unperturbed, secretly watching, Taby gave a yawn in the stead of a shout, and stood still rather than run. ’Ah, another one after me, seems I‘m bound to be popular.’ The low rumbling humor fueling his smile failed to register in his mind. Something severe in the back of his skull mechanically wandered through all the mistakes it could have made.

Across the deck and coming, the man that met Tablas was quite the site, the orange tint to his hair, and the striking blue of his eyes marking him as one of the foreigners, and as such his importance would likely be measured in the gold of his sack. Tablas knew his worth on the ship well enough to know not to test it.

The stranger spoke first, a terse ice breaker that Tablas did not refuse, “Adventure?” A waste deserving laughter, “ I’ve lived more years than I care to in that spirit,” he raised his calloused hands as if holding all the treasure in the world, the gold and diamond glinting on his ring finger, “but the wealth is in the reward, and one can never pass on the journey.” Slow speaking, but eloquent, he was a man who had used words well in his career. Tablas spoke like a man who did not abuse them.

The pleasantries of introduction continued as the stranger with all his civility offered up his both his name, and that of the friend he had, how could Tablas be rude. “Call me, Tablas , and any service I need I’m sure your help won’t be required.” A glance at land fall, a roll of searching eyes, Tablas visibly pondered their names, “Heard of you? Perhaps. We at sea hear tell of a great many things, I’m sure the Knights are one of them.” What fool would he be not to know justice when he saw it… but then again, to his core, he was a magician, and so he was in the thrall of casting illusions. Ingenious, or to the contrary, whichever it might be, it was an easy habit.

“I’ve been greeted warmly,” He lied, “But I am just a sailor, I've done no great deeds beyond fighting for my life, and while I might treat you to my stories, I have to ask about yours. What brings knights to a rain sodden, and Thayne blasted place such as this?” Above, under the rain, the heavy white wings of an albatross came whopping past. It was flying to the dark shores of grim Cal Cada.

[Valanthe]

Valanthe couldn't sleep, despite her efforts. The sounds of the storm, the tossing and turning of the ship, they kept her senses on alert. Giving up on the peace of slumber, she struggled to get up, her robes holding her back all the way. Slowly she moved her way through the decks, lurching from point to point as though she were inebriated. It was nothing of the sort of course, Valanthe had always considered it immoral to indulge in drink to that point. It was merely the ocean tossing the ship about.

Once up on deck, she made her way over to a small group of people, one of who had orange hair. She had no idea who these people were, but the company of strangers was preferable to being alone in the storm. As she neared them, she passed by to lean on the railing. It was more the nearness of others that she desired, rather than actually talking to them.

Her mind drifted back to another storm, a monsoon that had struck Corone in her childhood a hundred years ago. She was only twenty then, and being the young impressionable child she was, it was easy for her to get scared of anything. Her step parents were playing with the lightning again, using their magic to direct it toward them, so they could reflect it back.

In the depths of Concordia however, it is easy to trip on an exposed root, if your not careful. Her stepfather tripped on a root and fell backwards. Just as young Valanthe reached him, lightning started down for them, already attracted by the strong magical pulls. Her stepfather tried to push Valanthe away, but she clung to him for dear life, too concerned for his well being to care about what was happening around her. Her father cast a protection spell on her right before the lightning hit.

Krakoom! Frisizzle!

Valanthe screamed and jumped up on the railing thinking the same lightning from her memories was back to strike her again for a second time. She stepped down realizing she was okay, and looked around to make sure the ship wasn't struck. The lightning had struck the mast! The tall structure was toppling over, and was heading for her and the group she was near.

“Jump! That things going to put a hole in the ship as it falls. Grab me I'll help you get to shore.” She cried out as she leaped onto the railing again.

She turned around, and did a back-flip off the bridge right as a magical glow began to surround her. Before she hit the water, anyone watching could plainly see her clothes and belongings disappear as her body turned into that of a dolphin.

Valanthe, now a dolphin, swam out of the way of the falling mast, which true to her word, had smashed a hole in the deck and side of the ship. The pitching of the ocean took over from there, tearing the hole bigger with each wave. Already crew and passengers were heading to the lifeboats. Valanthe only had a half hour to get to shore, but it was just under thirty minutes away. She had just enough time to wait and see if the people she was near got off safely, and if they were going to need her help to swim to shore.

[Silence Sei]

"I'm actually here on personal business," Sei spoke with a smile, content that this man seemed to be in high spirits despite the evil plaguing him. "I would give you the whole story, but you would not believe me if I told you." Tobias nodded with a grin while still standing behind the hero. "It's true, you wouldn't. I'm still not sure I do."

As the three began to get better acquainted, however, disaster struck. Nobody had seen where the lightning bolt had came from, just that it had come without warning, aimed directly at the mast of their vessel. Sei's eyes widened at the freak accident, while Tobias narrowed her eyes at the falling mast, deep in thought it seemed.

The wind began to take the mast faster than anyone could have expected. All around the mute, people were running to the life boats and jumping off the deck. He looked to Tablas, and then to Tobias. Tablas was a sailor by his own words, he would be able to take care of himself, but he knew that Tobias would have difficulty getting to land. Partially because the closest land was thirty minutes away, and partially because Tobias Greenleaf could not swim

The mute took two steps towards his friend, who nodded and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Closing his eyes, the Mystic sprouted two butterfly wings, a cheery explosion of oranges and blues amongst the dreary brown and black. The thunder rolled on, and Sei used his wings to hover over the land, looking at all of the people forced to stay in the water due to overcrowding in the life boats.

"Tobias..."

"Yeah," the elf said, nodding to the mute warrior, "I know Sei. You can't leave em, Hero of Radasanth and all that jazz." Sei nodded to the elf, glad that she understood of what his job entailed. Shifting his eyes over to the vlince cloth that was clasped to his shirt by buttons, Sei shifted his head to show Tobias what he needed. The bandit nodded and unclasped the buttons, the cloth drifting into the sea.

Though normal cloths would be unable to soak in all the water around it, and would thus sink, this cloth was known as Jomil's Touch. Sei could will the vlince accessory to wither away anything it wrapped itself around, or in this case, keep several people afloat. Though Jomil's Touch was only the length of Sei's own five foot eleven body, it was more than enough to support any stragglers who wound up in the drink.

"Grab on!" Sei shouted, flying down close to the waves and gripping the end of the Touch with both hands. Tobias helped her friend, wrapping both of her slender elven legs around the waist of the mute and hanging upside down to also hold onto the cloth. The makeshift swimmers quickly flocked to the 'sound' of Sei's voice, and found themselves holding onto the cloth. As Sei looked around for what was available to him, he had tried to spy the dolphin that he had seen earlier.

Upon seeing the mammal, Sei brought the cloth over to her. This dolphin had at one point been a person, and Sei was hoping that she could still understand what he was saying. If not, dolphins were still pretty smart creatures, and could thus get the gist of what he needed. "get these people to shore as soon as possible!" Sei demanded of the dolphin, only thinking of the safety of the people. Tobias placed the cloth in the bottlenose mouth of the creature before the duo took off once more.

There was still the matter of finding their new friend.

"Tablas! Where are you?!" Sei shouted, the waves crashing against Tobias' body as they searched for the sailor. The storm seemed to be getting worse, and if it didn't clear up soon, everybody on board that ship would be marked off a roll call in the local morgue.

[Knave]

On guard, but speaking with ease Tablas readily welcomed these suspiciously suspicious people into his company. They seemed ready to embark on a journey of words to test him, and the shape-shifter was ready to defend himself to the end of their wits, no matter how tedious it might be. By divine providence, the ship’s air glowed, and Tablas was spared the pleasantries of conversation as sound roared, and lightning clapped.

Visibly startled, Tablas looked to the cause first, and then the rails as his most likely root of escape. A voice in the crowd eloquently put the situation into words, “We’re all going to die!” And a woman called for them to abandon ship as the began to fall, and the sails tore and exploded unable to slow the oaken tower in its fall. Time slowed down, Tablas looked to Sei, reading him to see their options, and watched with shock as wings unfolded from the man’s back.

An angel, or a fairy, it did not matter because the man bore his friend aloft on radiant wings, and shined as he took to the sky. Tablas reacted too slowly, his instinct telling him to latch on for life as a drowning man does to those who save him, but instead Tablas dived not for the rails, but from beneath the mast, and escaping, rolling, as the massive weight shattered the ships spine, and heaved the prow almost vertically into the air. Ignoring the scent of blood, Tablas scrambled for the door, and hurled him down the shaking, and moving corridor, catching hold of door frames, to slow himself. A hand locked itself to his wrist from an open doorway.

“What’s going on?” The girl screamed, she could not have been more than sixteen, and her eyes fluttered and bulged as Tablas seized her offending hand, and shocked her into a violent release. She collapsed into her dress, and fell back into her room. Awake, and aware, she watched him leave her in terrified confusion, and would later watch the water rise.

Meanwhile, after dealing a thoughtless death sentence, Tablas slid into the storage room of his shared room, and wading through the screams, he located that which was his. A massive pack that carried all of his earthly possessions, taking hold of it, he leapt past the drunken form of his supposed friend back into the hall. Bodies fell past him, scrambling against the wooden floor, bouncing and rebounding from the walls, Tablas found he had to readjust his footing to avoid falling into the water that seeped up from below, and soon found himself squatting in the horizontal doorway, satchel on back, the last break occurred, and ship was rent in two.

’Ten minutes ago I was onboard a ship bound for an easy port,’Tablas thought to himself, the rocking death throes of the vessels providing the lull in action needed for him to collect his thoughts. With swift hands he undid his boots, and flexed his elongating toes. They like his hands were soon ridged, and webbed, and to complete the change the skin of his neck opened in six flaps as blood red gills flared.

Seeing the last of the other ships half vanish and break away, Tablas leaned, and dived into the water. The water welcomed him as it did every time, with a sudden chill, and the clarity of darker depths to strike contrast between the ocean and the sky. Swimming, kicking, with powerful strokes, and murderous intent, Tablas dismissed the idea of a lifeboat, and made to escape as fast as he could. He could scent blood in the water, and thus, he could scent sharks.

He could see sharks, a pack of them beginning to circle above. Without thought, Tablas warped his appearance, and in the water was nearly invisible to the chaotic evil above.

[Valanthe]

Valanthe had understood the orange haired warrior's request just fine. But she didn't know if he could understand her in return, so she simply chattered at him in the dolphin tongue, agreeing to his demands while shaking her head up and down. That's when the cloth was placed in her mouth. On and on she swam, unaware of the sharks coming up behind her. That is, until one narrowly missed her.

“SHARKS!” Valanthe yelled, forgetting it would only sound like dolphin chatter.

She dived deeper into the water, leaving her swimmers behind to float on the cloth. She had to, she needed to lead the sharks away on a chase. She had learned from wise elder druids that sharks often preferred other ocean dwelling creatures to anything that dwelled on land. As she turned and swam through a narrow underwater rock formation that this seemed to be true, as the sharks were chasing her, save for the few that were going after other stragglers in the water.

Left, Right, her swim was desperate, but the sharks were closing. Valanthe sighted an underwater wreck, but she was too slow. A shark grazed her side as she turned, opening a wound in her side. The scent of blood lured even more sharks towards her, and away from the others. She was saving them, but she didn't want to lose her own life in the process.

“Great Omni, Lady V'dralla, save your faithful servant!” Valanthe cried out in dolphin.

The wreck had a rotted spear laying on the deck. Valanthe grabbed it with her teeth, and turned on her attackers, which seemed to surprise the sharks. She took advantage and and scored a hit in the side of one shark as she swam by it. It was then Valanthe learned another fact, surprising as it was, Sharks would turn on each other, if one of them was injured.

Valanthe returned to the cloth, leaving behind her a frenzy of sharks turning on one another. Coming to the fight last, though such was its intention, was a young sea serpent eager for an easy meal. Valanthe saw a second arriving, just as she grabbed the cloth, and continued on, her swimmers making modest progress on their own. Upon seeing the wound in her side, they understood she had abandoned them to fight the sharks.

As she swam, two more sea serpents arrive, both of them as young as the first, and these two she saw. Briefly she thought of the legend of a sea serpent older and more powerful than any other, a creature known only as Leviathan, and she hoped fervently, that it was only two young sea serpents the others had to deal with, and not something as old and as powerful as that. Time soothed her fears, as nothing more showed up.

Despite her victory, her wound was draining her energy, and Valanthe began to make slower and slower progress. This new enemy threatened to halt her progress altogether, and her senses began to dull and fade. One of her companions she was assisting put a reassuring hand on her head, as if to say they'd make it. Valanthe didn't understand that she was trying to show her something ahead. Valanthe passed out, ten minutes from shore, as rescue boats from shore met the survivors on the way. Losing consciousness, Valanthe turned back right as a boat met them...

[Silence Sei]

Rain drops hit his form harder, with more ferocity now. Lightning cackled and laughed as the two warriors searched desperate for Tablas. Sei could feel the extra weight being applied to his body as his skin began to soak in more and more water. It did not help that the rain was also sinking into Tobias' clothes, making her normally lithe form heavier to carry as well.

Tobias felt the cold water begin to fill her shoes. Sei was starting to fly lower over the waters of the sea. She shivered as the sudden chill of the new water met with her form, soaked into her white socks. As they glided through the ocean like an ice skater being carried by a cherub, Tobias realized that a dorsal fin was heading right for them. "Sei, shark!" the girl shouted, pointing towards the missile-like swimming creature.

Sei's weariness seemed to take a backseat to his drive to protect those he loved. The Mystic released his grip of Tobias in a flash, letting the elf fall to the waters below. His timing was impeccable, as the large fish lunged out of the water to where Tobias had been seconds earlier. What he found, however, was the fist of the Hero of Radasanth instinctively waiting for him. As Sei punched the shark in the nose, the creature fell backwards, retreating into the murky depths from which it came.

Sei could hear Tobias splashing. She was gargling water as well. Reaching down into the water, the mute picked the elf up. Tobias spit out several mouthfuls of water, her hair covering her eyes like a dog who had just been bathed. "I coulda drowned you idiot!"

"Better than being eaten alive!" Sei replied, looking around for Tablas as he spoke. Tobias moved her emerald green hair from her eyes and looked to the hero. "Sei..." she said, her tone changing to that of mourning, "he's gone."

Sei looked down to the girl with fire in his eyes. Who was she to decide that Tablas was dead?! However, as Sei met the sorrowful eyes of Tobias Greenleaf, his rage subsided, and he simply nodded. the storms were getting worse, but the immediate crisis had been averted. Without another word between them, Sei and Tobias headed for the shore, keeping silent in memoriam of their lost friend.

[Knave]

Those who drown can know nothing of the oceans vast nature, but its depth is a secret that becomes more apparent as the seconds stretch on into eternity. The only light to human eyes was the flash in the skies as bolts rained down in the distance, and the only sensations were the brushings of ocean currents, the oppression of the deep in darker hues, and overwhelming ambience.

Sound bayed in warped tones, the burbling wreck of the ship as air seeped from its every port, and its broken remains sank to the bottom of the sea. It was the sound of panicked lungs intermingled with the stifled scream from within the hull, or simply could not fight of the seething surfaces, and remain afloat on the heights of oceanic mountains and the sweeping valleys between. Like flies, fate took hold of those lives, and snuffed out for grim sport.

A woman of clear skin, and billowing gowns reached and grasped for the sky, her ascent from this cold hell stopped by the beautiful pinks of her apparel. In her final moments she was beautiful, a face outlined by darkness, a body exposed from her final attempt to escape her binding fetishes. The petals of that dress folded about her, and took her into the next world.

The boy could no more than five, and never understood the gravity that would be his end as the water dragged him down. Kicking, and dragging his small hands through the water, he flailed at the inevitable, the salt burning his eyes shut even as tears drifted free. The child’s navy blue sailor’s uniform making his final moments an irony; and as his struggles ended, he drifted on the ocean’s wind, and gazed into the distance that swallowed him whole.

The last of the sailors, a man of six and forty years, fled last from the wreckage of the ship even as it dragged him down into their grave. The futility of his escape was lost on him, in his mind, he still had fresh air in his lungs, and the experience of years at sea gave strength to his will to survive. He made it part way to the surface, his lungs bursting, lights without sources flashing across his vision. Bubbles issued from his mouth as he saw the goal, and the sharks that circled there.

Invisible to the falling bodies, and moving among those that had ceased their primary occupation, was a tangible emptiness that was indistinguishable from the black bottoms of the ocean’s heart. In the bitter aftermath of a capricious god, a shadow brushed the faces of the dead, an intelligence that lifted from their pockets, and fleeced the dead of precious little they would ever find precious again.

It contorted its ambiguity, and swam away from the falling bodies and new thrashing forms that rained from overturned lifeboats. If it light allowed light to reveal its long form again, it would be twice the height of a human being, and its webbed talons would crush the eyes of those that had seen. Enriched by the gifts of the dead, Lawrence ignored the sharks that instinctively recognized something that was more predator than prey, and continued to squabble amongst themselves for the softer meats that screamed and bled above.

V’dralla is not taking visitors I take it. The vainest of Thayne lashing out with for the sake of her displeasure, or a diversion for diversion’s sake, if this is indeed divine tyranny. If the god’s are wise, and this is how they show it, then my cunning will need be at its utmost extreme. There is no time for dalliances with sharks, or saving lives; let those things fall to lesser villains, and weaker heroes than I.


ଞଞଞ


The shores opened up from the port to the town, and beyond that into the night-shrouded mountain of dim Bal Cada. The destruction of the ships was a distant memory, and calm waves lapped at the black sands of the Thayne damned shores. Forests dominated the distance between the sites of the island. Venomous floral lichen bound, and barred easy access to the wood save for the paths; and the howling fauna threw themselves from branch to branch with speed, their limbs flailing, and their fur so dark that they were little but silhouettes against the large moon that stood unmoving in the Bal Cada skies.

The water rose, and the giant stepped out of the ocean, his features clear so that none could make out what he was, but the water falling from him to provide those most curious of hints. Wading through those last five feet of water, Lawrence’s hidden form wide, but shallow reliefs in the sand, his nails digging deep furrows in a straight path for the city. When he appeared again, he was once again the sterner of men.

The inn’s doors opened slowly, and not a man looked up until the stealthy glances soon spread, signaling the arrival of a newcomer. The man that they would soon identify as Tablas tracked puddles of water with his every step. He was a sight simply because of his demeanor, and eyes followed him as he effortlessly captivated human attention. When he took up a stool at the bar, he turned his blood shot eyes on the crowd, and sighing, asked them the simplest of questions. “Do you truly want to know?” The answers were reserved, mild affirmations, spontaneous questions asked without thought.

“Alright then.” Tablas said, and just as his hardened form and beaten body raised in the collective of humanity an admiration, his words were hypnotic, every word ringing true. The ship that would have delivered visitors from new lands now lay sunken, and sharks had beset the survivors almost immediately from their arrival. “There’s no telling how many died, but I can tell you the limits one must go to save themselves.” The mariner said, his dark eyes shining, and his salt starched beard stiff and fearlessly put forward on his chin.

He told them the truth as he cared for it, blaming the Thayne, and praising the smaller gods for his peril and safety. When they asked his name, he gave it with a chuckle, and gave its meaning to be “spite,” and its significance to be the theme of his adventures. When he spoke, he introduced a romantiscism into his words that captured the heart, and placed it in a mood for adventure.

Of the sharks he had murdered with his knife and sword, there was one. A number of others would bear his scars as their prize for challenging him. When he was done, there was not a man in that tavern who did not know respect, or admiration.

[Valanthe]

“Quick, get her into a bed, summon the healer!” shouted one passenger as another group made it to the inn.

“What's going on here?” asked the innkeeper.

Valanthe's unconcious and bleeding form was carried to a bed, a group of people jostling the innkeeper out of the way. Shortly an aging man arrived and went straight to the room the group had commandeered for the woman.

“I demand to know what's going on.” the innkeeper shouted.

“She saved us. Our ship had broken, as I'm sure is well known by now. She turned into a dolphin, and in a cloth that belongs to Lord Sei Orlouge, carried us to shore. Along the way, sharks came to attack, and she fought them off herself. It was amazing. I mean, I had always heard there were some servants of V'dralla who could turn into wild creatures; but to actually see it, and see the ferocity with which she sought to protect our lives, even at the cost of her own, I will never forget it.” the passenger had said.

“I thought I was the healer around here. She's going to live, I managed to avert death. Let her rest until morning.” the healer said coming out of Valanthe's room at the right moment.

“Fine, but, that room costs money you know, I can't just let it go for free.” the innkeeper said.

But everyone seemed to ignore him, as they relaxed now that the danger was over. Valanthe however, wasn't allowed to rest. Though her body remained quite stationary, her mind, along with her spirit, were moved elsewhere.

She found herself drifting in a field of light, golden white in color. She saw objects in the distance, points of light numerous beyond measure. What they were, were a mystery to her. She wasn't alone though. A single presence, vast beyond comprehension, encompassed her entire being. It was like adding a drop of water to the ocean, and then trying to find that one unique drop again.

“You have done well, my daughter.” the light said, its voice echoing all around her like thunder, yet as gentle as a kitten's meow.

“Thank you Omni. It was you who sent me to the island, you knew that was going to happen, didn't you? Why didn't you act to save them?” Valanthe asked.

“But I did, I sent you. Now you have another purpose. In the morning, when all has calmed from the storm, seek out Sei Orlouge. Help him find V'dralla. Tell him also, that I wish to speak with him at a future time when he is ready to hear me. Warn him also, not to delay too long.” The Omni said.

Valanthe nodded her head in spirit, and back in the inn, her body responded, her physical head nodding as though it was with her spirit. Valanthe felt herself drifting down, gently, rejoining her body. By the time she had done so, she had awoken from her nights rest, and aside from a pain in her side where the sharks had attacked her dolphin form, she felt well rested and refreshed.

Her new orders in mind, she left the room to seek out Sei Orlouge.

[Silence Sei]

Tobias began to ring out her bandana as Sei went to go locate Jomil's Touch. The elven girl sighed while she watched the soaked Mystic make his way down the shoreline, searching for his cloth. If Sei were not such a good hero, she would have wrung his pale little neck for endangering her life like that. He knew she could not swim, so why did he toy around with her life like that? That was not his place!

Tobias seemed to stew in her anger for a moment before she realized something. If Sei had not done what he had to do, many more people would have died today. They would not have just lost Tablas to the tides. The elf warrior stretched out her arms, allowing the water hidden in her sleeves to run down her body. She shivered at the sudden jolt of cold cascading her.

"Well, if he's going to go on a search for that cloth," she said, starting to walk into town, "I'll find us a hotel to stay in for the night."

It was getting late, and already Tobias Greenleaf felt as if she was coming down with a cold. Of course, she could not reveal that to Sei. If she did, the mute would assume he had the illness as well. Few people realized that Sei Orlouge was a major hypochondriac. If somebody was vomiting, Sei had a migraine, if they had pneumonia, Sei had the flu. Only Tobias and the daughters of the Dragon of Drantrak knew that such imaginary ailments plagued him, however.

She eventually found a bar in a nearby town, walking in just as somebody was starting to finish one of their heroic tales. Tobias yawned and looked to the current storyteller. When she saw the form of Tablas, however, the girl widened her eyes and took a hard swallow. It could not be, it simply could not be!

Then again, they had not found the sailor's body...

Tobias smirked a bit and walked over to a table, sitting down and ordering some ale. Once the crowd began to disperse, the elf whispered a 'come hither' tune, directed at Tablas. When the man's attention was drawn to her, she simply sent out a slight two finger salute to the man.

She would let him have his moment in the sun. After all, Sei would.

[Knave]

(Been gone for school, thats over, sorry. I'm a bit rusty, I've forgotten how to keep things short and simple, so be patient as I try to reel myself in.

Warning: This wall of text is in revision, and will be edited from now until the lock of the thread simply because I can think of a bit wrong with it. For those participating there is the option of revision, but for the love of God we need to pick things up.)

The sloshing beer of a wooden mug licked at the edge of the mug as Tablas set it down with a thump, it was the fourth in a long line of gifts he had, and would talk his newly made “friends” into giving him.

“Well,” Tablas said, the effects of the ale too weak to alter his mind, “Friends, that’s the end of a tale told. Lightning, earthquakes, wildfires, and all other tricks we dub the actions of gods, I thought there was reason to the Thayne, and in wisdom they would have mastery: I was wrong.” He paused, and looked into the distance, thinking of the family he never had, but convincing himself of an awaiting love he could never know. Returning, he looked around the long table, the largest of them all, and gazed deep into the souls of thirty men.

To his left, a youth of sixteen stammered over his first, last, and still full mug of beer, “The gods are omnipotent, and the gods are good, Sir.” He spoke in whispered words, the beginnings of a spine at odds with the entrancing aura he felt from this stranger. Yes, Hromand had faith, but, as is so often the case, the gods are in their heavens, and the evidence against them was always here. “If there is a question of the Thayne, the Thayne will answer.” It was a line from one of the latter Lore of the Thayne, and he spoke it with growing courage, “pray, strange Tablas, why have you not sought council with the spirits?”


“Because they keep sending boys instead of women.” The reply was quick, and the salt starched hairs of Tablas beard expanded to make room for the smile that infected those around him with mirth, how wonderful it was for them to be in the company of a man whose proportions in personality were equally divided between melancholy and, if dirty, warmth. “You strike me, boy, as a philosopher in training, and if that’s the case I’ll give you a lesson.” Tablas downed his mug, breathing alcohol like the champion they recognized him to be.

“If’n we take into all accounts man’s fallibility,” laying an arm over the lads shoulders he spoke loudly even as he drew him in, “and add into the state of things the rare wonder of godly splendor with its omnipotence and magical tassels, what do you think the state of affairs could be?”

Hromand, a boy of moderate temper, and infinite arguments among his peers soldiered on with no less speed, but much reduced energy as he voiced his mind to those he felt were older, and by definition wiser. “Reality, Sir, it’s not a question of what things are, it’s the same with all government, and all bodies of people, we serve while they protect.” It was a bit of reasoning every child would know, but when Hromand turned his freckled face up to the stranger he was now so close to, he saw nothing but exasperation.

Around the table, grunts of approval and whispered conversations went on, the table of a small inn once again the place for intelligent discussion, where people would often prove themselves unintelligent at best or violently stupid at worst. Either way, it was late, and like sports it was simply another thing for a group of men to become impassioned and frantic about.

Tablas let loose his sigh, and shook his head in disappointment before fixing his eyes on the crowd as he spoke not a reply, but asked another question, “To what standard, Hrom, to what standard are all these things done?” His shirt worn torn, the scent and look of the ocean rolling from him, he sounded more like a teacher than the man who had only recently escaped a sinking ship, and the sharks in the waters around there.

Taken to this new avenue, as the Junior Philosopher he was, Hrom took to the question like a fish to water… that is to say he did so talking like his life depended on it. “The Thayne are the means to protect us from those things that we fear more than death, as our protectors they need only protect us, “he would continue his nervous speech without breath, ”and we serve because for their protection that is all we ask.” He finished, his heart pounding, his palms sweating, a wild looked in his eye as icy fire worked through his veins, he was terrified of reject, but he was slowly easing into the discussion. The arm on his shoulder was comforting in the way he suspected a father’s might be.

Tablas nodded, neither the shape-shifter nor the memory of a man were averse to the idea , it was indeed the law, and in terms of service it was a price paid for a service rendered, but the prick to that bubble there was the most immediate question. “And for their protection, what’s the cost?”

“The prize for piety is a good life, not a long one, but one of godly glory where a man receives the spoils due a genuine spirit, as for how the gods rule the men, that’s their choice.” The bright and shining spirit of youth and perceived wisdom fell from his lips, and the boy appealed to the crowd, and found them nodding, but unsure, still listening for the reply.

Tablas ruffled the boy’s hair, and erased the dawning personality, leaving once again a boy talking to a man. “So to illustrate,” he said, raising his free hand high, “you placed the Thayne here,” he dropped his hand to mere inches from the table, “and we low few here.” Tablas swept his arm out to the people, and told them exactly what he thought of that, “tyranny, friends, that’s what I call the mandatory knee to a thing no more right, or kind than you or I.”

Out toward the other end of a table, amid the talk and chatter, the shout came from an unseen and unexpected quarter, “Valorous Sailor, are you an atheist? “ It was a shout of profound disappointment, followed by a sigh that spread the unconscious mind of their group; humans were so perceptive of each other worries, and so empathic that they adopted them as their own. Tablas would have to work quickly or lose a few of the herd he now called friends.

“No, sirs, I am merely a man who was as a boy too poor for college, one who now can only make sport of thinking when he is not clutching his life.” He looked at Hrom, his expression pained by regret, “You may come to better answers living the life of a scholar, but there is darkness on the ocean, a darkness which adds no fear, but brings sobriety.” He seized the boy’s ale, and drank when it was clear that it was simply a prop in the boy’s hand.

“I’ve thought long and hard about what it is to be alive. I’ve done some searching, and stopped into churches at port,” he drank the bitter taste down and continued, “none of them, not one, tell a man what to do to live a life without pain, or away from death, at least those who don’t make wagers, or tell other how to escape death.”

“So that’s why you’ve come?” Gloucester said, his eloquence a mark of intelligence as he grinned at his newest associate, “It is not every day we see a man who steals from gods, it has always been a lose, lose situation to me.” The man three chairs and persons down was a spindly man in a black coat and top hat, the handlebars of his black moustache, and the tailored spike of his goatee marking him as one of the wealthy who liked to slum with the dogs.

The revelation of Tablas’ goal was met with something between shock and despair; they begged him not to go. “Why would you wager your life in a gamble with gods!”Berial said, their waitress for the evening, she dressed conservatively enough to mask her lurid stares, and had been moving closer since Tablas’ arrival. She looked at him with sadness, having known many men who would come, go, and never return.

The Shape-shifter, the sailor, waded into the assumptions, cautions, admonitions, and declarations of failure with neither defensiveness (which would be perceived as offensive) nor blinding pride. “If I am a human being, then my life from birth is destined for death. Would any of you say different, ain’t a man alive who doesn’t know he’s going to die.” He spoke with a solemnity that died as he grew more impassioned, and stood while they sat and stared.

“So it’s no wager then!” He said, hooking his hands into the waist of his trousers, he stood with both strong and daring, “I’ve seen death enough to know that when we meet won’t be close, amiable, or so much as civil, and I’ve got too much living to do to respect the arbitrary nature of godly rule!” It was time to enlist. “Sabine,” he indicated a man to his left of whom he knew little enough but that he had two unwed daughter and three grandchildren, “would you leave your family for a duty enforced by your nature?”

He invoked their emotions, “would any of you give up one day of your lives for no reason, but that you must? If lightning and pain were all that we had to bear, going to our end should be nothing if not simple, but we have who have loved know better, don’t we?” He spared Hrom a benevolent glance, and his voice took on an odd tone, it swept through their minds, and made their own thoughts mere echoes to its grandeur.

“You know you want to live, and you know you want to be free, if the price for ease of life is faith, then I know some of you have paid it, I don’t blame you. I can understand, but we all know good people who you, wicked men who have grown strong die. There are gods, but there is no right, friends, no moral compass to lead us from harm; most will suffer injustice, some will not, but if my goal is to prosper, and my options are simply time and place, then I will spend it in an instant of danger.”

Around the table, a silence had fallen, and slowly the ascent was given that he was at the least not wrong, and at best a hero among an age of weaklings and fools. Slowly as the approving calls declined, Tablas began his next rally, “So who’s with me?”

When it’s all said and done, Tablas’ little band had swollen to twenty-five, a few would back down when sanity overrode the desire Tablas had instilled in them, but for the day he was content and done.


~@~

As the last of the troop began to disperse, Tablas talked amiably, drank continuously, and became close and obvious friends with Berial. In total today had been a success…. Even if he had had to swim for several miles in shark infested waters. Weary, and with the last of his crew vanishing, Tablas was left with only slee- something caught Tablas’ attention, and turning, he found the salute of an Ixian Knight. Grinning, and tired, Tablas returned the gesture, and proceeded toward the door to find an Inn.

[Valanthe]

Valanthe walked through the town, Jomil's Touch folded and in her arms. She had no idea of the true power of the cloth, or the value it's power held. All she knew was that it was not hers, and she should rightfully return it to it's true owner.

“I beg your pardon sir, but I'm looking for a man with bright orange hair, have you seen such a man?” Valanthe asked one elderly gentleman.

“I'm sorry young lady, I haven't seen such a person in all my eighty years. He must be one lucky fellow though to have you looking for him.” the old gent said smiling thinking he knew why she was looking for him.

Valanthe thanked him and moved on, asking other people, but none had seen Sei. There were people around town with hair like Sei's but none of them were actually the mystic in question. Finally, she made her way down to the beach, and there in the distance, was none other than the very man she was looking for.

“SIR! SIR SEI!” Valanthe yelled as she ran to catch up to him.

Finally she succeeded, but had to stop momentarily to catch her breath. Finally she straightened and faced him.

“I'm proud to say that even though I almost died fighting off the sharks, I got them safely to shore. They have some good healers here. But that's not why I came looking for you.

First and most importantly, this cloth you gave me, I believe it is yours?” Valanthe asked.

She held out the neatly folded cloth to Sei, and after he had taken it, Valanthe took notice of the decay in her robes.

“Odd, these aren't that old, barely a few months at the most. I wonder how that happened, maybe I could borrow the cloth for some experiments, it might secretly be magical.” Valanthe said absentmindedly picking at her robes as she examined them.

“No time for that now,” Valanthe said shaking her head momentarily, “I'm going to have to have a word with that child I call husband. He's rubbing off on me. Anyway, the second reason I came to see you, is because of one of the two gods I follow.

See, I follow V'dralla. As a druidess, it doesn't make sense not to heed the nature goddess's words.

But I also follow something else, that I can only define as a god, but I suspect its something far more than such a term can allow. This god is known as The Omnisource, he manifests as a great, possibly infinite field of light, and he wants to speak to you, when you're ready to listen. Not now of course, because he also wants me to escort you to V'dralla, and The Omnisource seemed willing to wait for a more opportune moment.” Valanthe said, sincerely hoping she wouldn't be called a lunatic and written off as a minor irritation in a very bad day.

[Silence Sei]

Sei listened to the tale of Valanthe, not surprised at all that another god like being wished for his audience. The mute began to wonder if the powers that be had nothing better to do than stalk the Mystic, but he shook the thought away. He took Jomil's Touch back from the druid with haste, fully aware that if she had held it for much longer, she would have been completely in the nude. He merely nodded his thanks to the girl, a gesture meant to convey sincerity and a multitude of gratitudes. Without her unique ability, a lot more people would have died after all.

"I appreciate your help, as well as V'dralla's willingness to meet with me. In all honesty, I was beginning to think that she wanted me nowhere near her," Sei pointed at the skies above to refer to their previous fiasco. "However, it is very late, and the days adventure has taken its toll on me. I do not suppose that we can wait until tomorrow to find V'dralla?" The girl nodded happily, and Sei made his way into town, trying to find an inn to rest his head for the night.

By the time he had reunited with Tobias, he had no energy to convey how happy he was that his once thought deceased conversation partner of Tablas was actually alive and well. The inn he had chosen was unremarkable; a firm bed, blue carpet floor, and a friendly inn keeper. The telepath was happy to be asleep on a (now) relatively peaceful night. Maybe things were looking up.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sei woke up to the sounds of people shouting in protest. The Mystic did not rush to the scene, deciding to get dressed and go about his usual morning routine before he left the out of his room. Apparently, Tobias had had the same idea, coming out of her door just as the mute left his. They both looked to each others as the angry sounds seemed to grow fainter and fainter, and finally vanished from their spectrum of hearing.

"I wonder what that was all about," Sei said to Tobias, who merely shrugged her shoulders. The Ixian leader placed a few coins on the counter at the lobby and took his leave of the inn, stretching his arms and deciding that the best course of action would be finding Valanthe.

[Knave]

The lamps light had been extinguished and the shadows of dresser, mirror, and clothes robed chairs sitting round a table stood against the walls as dark silhouettes. It was a room that was unnecessarily large. For the moment, Tablas was still two inches short of six feet, he had been growing.

The sun touched and bristled sailor’s chest barely moved, his limbs cast out over the small bed, corpse still being the only reprieve Lawrence felt at the end of a day. While sleep never came to shapeshifter— rest fleeing him with righteous scorn for his existence—he lay awake in Tablas’ skin, his eyes closed to the world. The bone of a pig clicked and rattled against his teeth as his tongue bathed and scraped over it. He thought and plotted in place of peace and dreams.

‘If ever men were said to be simple, then proof sifts through my hands. If ever Thaynes’ word appeared in Thaynes defense, never was it from Thaynes’ truthful lips nor Thaynes’ vengeful hand.’ Smiling then proved a human action, as Tablas cheeks neither flushed with mirth nor his lips turn with the cool satisfaction running through Lawrence’s mind as things came together. It had drained him considerably, those hours and subtle suggestions which had bought “Tablas” recognition worth following. ‘Soon, very soon, they’ll mistake their own strength for mine, and make me rich for all the stock they put in me.’

‘Of course, there is always the one man alone...’ When Lawrence by any means took the lead, people with all their hopes and dreams soon fell in line, but the individual exception was always there. A thick necked, simple figure who through sheer virtue of being honest stood staunch in opposition, or were so firm of will as to suffer neither indecision or misdirection—it was frightening! Whatever machinations Lawrence might contrive, whatever lies he might tell, they would all come to nothing in the face of that blunt buffoon, and this time that buffoon was all but only human.

‘I could have him judged a villain by tomorrows end…but even then, could I have him crucified, I doubt one hundred weaklings could do the deed or one thousand.’ The mad gleams of anarchy Lawrence had spawned in the eyes of the fate battered and divinely abandoned masses were the seeds of a dark faced mob, but no matter how much hysteria Lawrence could drum up, he doubted there would be any real means of defeating the fairy knight. Lawrence’s frustration built as schemes spiraled and sang their mechanical songs. His lips drew back into a snarl of frustration as his teeth began to cut bone. Frustration not at his enemies, but at himself.

It was always hard separate the reality of his existence from the fairytales—‘if only it weren’t so easy to play that role.’ That thing existed in him, and he used it, but it was hard to contain. The senseless incarnation of evil depicted in the play, novels, and bed time tales whose opposition was light. Lawrence had seen a hundred roles growing from his childhood at the foot of the stage and atop it, and new the archetypes of romance, villainy, and heroism to the degree which made even the most bitter a dear acquaintance.

Sorvalo, the servant and dealer of poison who had seen the death of one Jya in childhood, and as an adult seen another by his own hand; Amircia, the temptress elf by whose beautiful, bloody hands two husbands had found silent ends to the love they offered; Kierodot, who had dragged himself on his knees to Haida to escape Suravani’s hatred. They were characters drunk with their own troubles, and had died in fiction and history drunker still for all their grandeur and poise. Prudence and restraint were things alien to drama, because there could be none where they resided. He needed restraint.

Sei was not Lawrence’s enemy, simply something he would need to consider, and plan for. There was a god on this island, and for whatever reason its actions were ill fated and would worsen with time. As a pessimist, he looked at the world and saw its defining trend: flux and decline.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The coming morning saw the seasonal shift as the thunderous tropics of the island veered into the hoary northern frosts of winter rather than the autumn which had barely begun. The sky rolled, and cracked with dry thunder, and sinister flashes of red lightning in the distance wreathed around the peaks of mountains that rose from the forest. A once humid, icy bluster buffeted those outside, but the fog relentlessly clung to dozens of shifting shoes, and above the sound of the distant seething sea, was the sound of people.

The hustle and bustle was not born from the spirit of trade or commerce; the fouler fortunes of the times have killed every hope of that. It had started when the first few had met, the sailor who had dared to save himself from the sea, and those who had met him prior, men of higher station and low, women from every street’s corner. There was no army to march, but a group of little more than seventeen, mostly men, with the occasional woman and boy. Whatever anyone could offer, they took if it could be carried.

From morning, he had been out among them, his energy moderated to a raucous and rumbling charm. When the sun’s muted light had first descended, Tablas had been there, trading his salt starched clothes for think pants and thicker jacket. Free of salt, his black hair and beard gave him a mane, and his expression warmed with a look which followed his message: weather be damned, no more bullshit. The reception was not lost; when the lion roared in his den, he was well met.

“And you!” A heavy hand met another, the callouses of a lifetime just as familiar as the strength of each grip. “What’s the damage done that has you from your home?” Tablas asked the farmer, the man’s beard, hair, and body thinning with age and worry, “Do not tell me you’ve been left without flock to tend or land to manage or children to call your own.” From arrival, Tablas had demonstrated such a talent for judging the stock and nature of men, and though he spoke in half-jest he could see a dozen truths to an unhappy man.

“Oh, I have plenty of beasts, Sirah, I’ve been blessed with too many to feed and seen the scorn of the sun and frost a dozen times this year.” Herobrine said, his intents clear in the machete on his belt and the shovel at his side. The man adjusted his cracked glasses, and though Tablas temperament was contagious, his smile was tainted with spite, “I’ve been blessed with newborns too and equally cursed to be brought back to none.” There were sore wounds in that somber voice and dim expression, and the festering of something less than kind. “Word ‘a mouth goes a distance, least to my hill, not one of them an answer to my questions.”

“Then you’ve found yourself in good company, take a look around you.” Tablas raised an understanding hand, and took survey of all that lay about him, what food could be managed was packed, blunt tools and sharp were hung and hefted the motley crew, and under the light of day, though the talk and drum was building, the cheeks were hollow with the underfed, any memory known was of the dead; of the few who dared to hope to live on, little was left but that hope which said they would live on. “If there is an answer to be found outside of prayer and church, you’ll find it here.”

“Thank you, Sirah.” The man said it out of it habit, and looking at Tablas furrowed brow with its lines of laughter equaled by deep worried age before its time, he could not say why. He was looking at himself. “When do we leave for the temple? –where do we begin?” The anxiety of a good man pulled at Herobrine’s heart, and at Tablas’ insistence he moved to fall in with rest.

“One step at a time, truth will be had soon, and we’ll soon know why.” Tablas said, calling out to the others to announce another brother in their midst.

[Silence Sei]

Sei and Tobias searched the entire town up and down for Valanthe. After all, the priestess was supposed to be the prophet who guided the Mystic towards V’dralla. Yet, as the hours began to sink in, and the hot sun breathed its fire down their necks, all the duo got for their troubles were burns that would surely hurt without some sort of remedy gel.

"She is gone, Sei," Tobias panted out, fanning herself with one of the battle fans the mute had lent her for the search, "Let's just accept it and go on ourselves. We've looked everywhere for her, and she's nowhere to be found. Did you consider that she mighta went on ahead to V’dralla temple?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Sei spoke, fanning wind gusts into his own features while considering why the girl would have done such a thing. "You are probably right. She more than likely assumed we would find the way on our own, and went to tell V’dralla of us ahead of time."

Just as Sei finished his assumption, a loud scream echoed from roughly half a mile away. It caused all who were outside to turn their heads, and more than a few to grow sick from what had caused the alarm.

Holding onto the shoulder where his arm was once connected was one of the villagers from the mob earlier that morning. The man's brown eyes were filled with tears, an epitaph to the friends he had lost to make it back to the village. Judging from the clear trail of red meeting grass and dirt below, Sei knew that the villager was to join in comrades soon in the afterlife. That did not stop the mute or his elven friend to hurry to the man's side, grabbing each side of him and getting him to the nearest shady spot to die in peace.

"W-We weren't prepared for it..." the man spoke, his whole body shaking as if going into shock, "the trees sprang to life....th-they ripped m-my friends a-apar-apart." Tears began to stream down the face of the man as he recalled the horrid events, "They took my arm, bu.....but...I fought back when they t-t-tried to take me....Had to wa-wa-wa-warn you... T-Tablas is....he's lead us to our...."

Sei did not wait on a sentence that would never finish. The mute took his hand and gently brushed down the eyelids of the man. He was at peace now. It was not until this had happened that Tobias herself had caught notice of the man's passing, and widened her eyes as part of a fear reaction.

"He said that Tablas was leading them," Sei spoke, not entirely talking to the female elf as he did so, "If he saw the dangers, why would he push for? Why would he endanger others like that? It doesn't make any sense!" With the last word, Sei clutched both of his hands into fists. There was really one option left, Tobias could see it in the blue orbs of the mute.

"We're going after him, aren't we?" The heir to the Greenleafs asked, "We're going after Tablas and making him stop whatever it is he's trying to do, right?" Sei nodded.

Tobias nodded back in recognition, following the mute as he proceeded to turn around and head into the lush green area that lay before them. V’dralla would have to wait; she had obviously abandoned the people of this town, she could stand for Sei to abandon her for a little while...

[Knave]

The morning passed in the days procession, but as with the regular and terrible weather that thundered from mountains, swept through trees to leave them naked, and menaced all the world, there was no change that could be called predictable. The light of the sun meant nothing as it peaked between fat and heavy and dark clouds to soothe and blister. Such was the waking world that though the people of Bal Cada, skilled in farming and knowledgeable of nature, were overwhelmed and defeated time again by forces fathomless, formless, and immortal. Lawrence saw the proof of all this apparent, looking at the sunken cheeks of the cattle, and how they knew without question to procure wide hats and to leave no skin uncovered below the neck. He found it fortuitous that V’dralla did not have power over the earth or sea, ‘else this venture would prove more deadly, too deadly.’

He viewed it with a sort of detachment, though Tablas with his increasingly impressive build showed a kind of energy that was respectful, impressive, and begged others to follow though he knew they could not. There were doubts to be sure, and suspicions which seemed to be on the tips of someone’s tongue, turning over in another minds, or even at the edge of their field of vision, but though he could not be followed, he was always there. He knew them all by name, laying his hands upon them to gaze into their eyes, and his words echoing as if from some distant dream, he spoke with strange litanies.

“If there is no law, no reason, then what right do She have to our worship or land?” “We have families, we have needs, we have no right to do nothing.” “The forest is our ally corrupted, and when sanity is restored, the fields will be beneath our feat and the trees will offer sweet fruit in thanks.” “I fear all that you do, this was never about hatred or revenge, only the proper way of things.” “A days march, son.”

Lawrence knew these words for what they were, litanies, people’s faces turned upward toward him with unspoken prayers, he maintained them. Truth was like beauty, and the fact of the matter was that the eyes of beholders could always be deluded. And delude them he did! Between everyone was a link and standard, and each person’s condition no matter how evil or childish or stern was soon shaped to a familial match. It was tiring though, and in his dim glee, reveling in himself, Lawrence grew tired.

The forest around them watched and listened to the pattering of feet. The bitter air carried hushed voices, and laughter rolling with despair.
With all reason gone and all hopes flying, the men marched on without fear of dying, and among them, thought friend, they knew a hero to guide to guide them, a hero who thought them fools. They marched the arboreal forests in tempest when the weather turned, Tablas among them, urged, within them their hearts burned. The fiend’s inspection searched their faces and minds, and, once satisfied, he retired among them, and though some sought, they could not find.

‘I wonder,” Lawrence thought, walking with his every feature shaded and obscured from mortal eyes or apprehension, “How far I’ve been removed from mankind?” Turning to regard a woman of seventeen newly widowed and even in traveling still in black, even before becoming the thing he was today, everyone Lawrence had cared for had not cared enough not to die. 'Parents gone to disease. Brother gone to war. A world of poverty stealing the rest, and I still barely remember what it was she should feel.' It did not bother him though, a curiosity, a loss of feeling was different from a loss of limb, and that was certainly the case. Eating and breathing had ceased to be necessities, “and ceased to be enjoyable,” he said under his breath as the crowd moved about him and he remained alone as he tried to remember taste. Sleep was gone forever, and he knew that too. Waste was a memory, one more fact that served to remove Lawrence from all things Althanian. The worst part? Every half-hour or so, his heart would give one single, painful, and violent crash, it was heartbeat simply not his own… and even when it staggered him, rather than claw at his chest, Lawrence would look out to a sea he could not see, and know She was there.

As that painful reminder of mistress and home stirred and stilled Lawrence’s blood, and his heart waited for a second more before it resumed its merciless task, the second attack of the day began. It began with the baying of wolves. It continued with screams of surprise and pain as the first attacked leapt from wood robed shadows with its mouths wide and its graying black fur nearly shrugged off the knife of the man it had set its teeth into and thrown to the ground.

The Car Cosan breed of wolf was without doubt something purebred from the lines of promethean monsters. Her head was thick and large, her eyes huge and manifold with dozens more within, and her teeth hooked to do sharks the service and demonstration of a job done right. Three dozen whiskers tasted the blood and heard the panic better than tongue or ear. With a snap of its head, the demon bitch hurled the fat man beneath her into the sky, content that wherever he landed he would be dead. In turning, the starched needles of her fur rattled, as she crouched and barked. With raised its hackles and primitive mind she thought that while today her ribs were bare by tomorrow she would be full and fed for weeks by fresh carrion. However, when it looked up at she looked up at her meals, they looked unafraid, and the she saw the flash of white, and with a high screech she wheeled and turned and fell from her four feet, the black nose still falling and her own blood in the air.

The forest had proven as he had thought, thick with unseen enemies among the trees, some of them were the trees. Hence the shield, Lawrence still needed people, and as they fell in behind him, their Tablas, they set to work at ridding the world of one more lone problem. Every eye that met the wolfs was empty, and every mouth uttered universal rage through clenched and bared teeth. Tablas within the first second sheered away one giant paw, and Lawrence watched from a distance seconds later as his flock tore into the wolf.

[Silence Sei]

The two warriors slung the branches and vines out of their way as they made their way down the path Tablas' party had taken. It was not hard to follow the trail, as blood splatters seemed to be leading the duo in the right direction. As the two of them began to walk, Tobias decided that now would be a good time to initiate a conversation with the Mystic.

"Sei, I never asked you," Tobias scratched the back of her head, unsure of how to present this question, "but why don't you like me?"

"Tobias, this isn't really the time or place to discuss whether or not I value our friendship," Sei could smell the scent of blood getting stronger. Mixed in the blood was something with a stronger odor; bodies. There were corpses up ahead, and they had been in the hot sun for several hours judging by the stench. Tobias stopped for a minute once the smell reached her own senses. The elf was smart enough to know the origins of the smell herself, but that did not deter her from continuing on her train of thought.

"That's just the thing," Tobias quickly moved past a limb that Sei was holding back for her, "You think what I feel for you is friendship. It's not. By 'not like me', I meant---"

Tobias turned around to find that Sei was no longer with her. The green haired elf searched all around for her leader, trying to find the mute among the forest. If she had only looked up, the girl would have seen that Sei had been entangled in several vines, stretching the limbs of the Mystic out in opposite directions. Sei could feel his arms and legs threatening to dislocate themselves from his body. The mute would have alerted the girl to his presence, but the pain he was enduring was blinding his common sense. He could feel the vines that held him rowing thorns, piercing into his skin and causing the Mystic to let out a silent scream of pain. His azure blood flowed onto the leaves and dripped down to the ground below.

Tobias continued searching back and forth for Sei, her fear starting to overcome her as she thought about being in a forest she did not know all alone. Just when the girl was about to give up hope, she felt a small drop of something upon her head. The girl grumbled as she began to shiver, despite the fact that the sun had made today particularly warm.

"Just great, on top of everything, it’s raining," Tobias said as she felt the droplets continuing to hit her head. The girl brought her hand into her green hair and began to shake it, trying to get some of the 'rain' out of her head. When she removed her hand, Tobias looked at her palm, her eyes growing wide in horror when she realized that the rain was actually Mystic blood. Looking up, the elf was greeted with more azure droplets slammed into her face. Tobias wiped the blood from her face, her hands instantly going for the throwing daggers at her side. It took the elf no time to throw the daggers upwards, her accuracy being slightly blurred from the blood dripping into her face.

Tobias had become so concerned with rescuing Sei, she did not notice the vines slowly wrapping around her ankles until the plants yanked her up in the air upside down. The girl clenched her teeth in pain as she felt the thorns start to grow and pierce her own skin, sending her own crimson liquid to join Sei's on the ground. Tobias screamed for a few seconds before realizing that she was a good twenty feet in the air, and falling at a rapid pace. The girl closed her eyes as she waited for the inevitable neck break that she was sure to suffer. She wound up being a hindrance to Sei during this trip after all.

Yet, her death never came, as she felt her body being held in two arms. Opening her eyes, Tobias found the smiling face of Sei looking at her, the two of them flying through the air thanks to Sei's butterfly wings. Tobias smiled a little bit as the two of them began to land on the ground. The green haired elf was placed on the ground, where she began to giggle a little bit, and then start hysterically laughing. Sei (who was standing over Tobias) quirked an eyebrow at the possibly delusional thief.

"I....I have got....to stop falling for you...." Tobias managed to say in between her laughing fits. Sei smiled at her joke, but turned to the sound of animalistic growling. The mute sighed as he shifted his gaze towards Tobias, his arms quivering from blood loss.

"Joking aside, I think we're about to be in for a rough day." Sei spoke while hearing the footsteps of the Car Cosan wolves as they began to surround the warriors...

[Knave]

(Warning this is just an excuse for me to have two girls mud wrestling. It is not edited, and very long, fatigue is a real thing.)

He had gobbled food up, when full he fled…but the food kept coming, fear so backwards it had come full circle into terrific bravery. Stupid, deadly bravery. Then came another. These foreigners…they stood well on his land.

~~~HAHAHAHAA—AHAHAHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAA~~~

The rest had fallen back, huddled figures in the dark. Those who had run with Tablas now either stood behind the cover of moss strapped and leaning trees, or lay in the mud up to their ears while going through the simple rituals of ceasing to be alive, among them: drowning, blood loss, pulverization into a bowl of thick soup, the sudden and shocking removal of limbs, and perhaps one heart had failed under the weight of grief and terror.

Through the branches trickled and ran rays of light, though, last any had seen, the sky had been none so illuminating that day, and run those rays did, as though the sun too was searching. Strobbing lights revealed all.

Thick and heavy, equally serpentine and amphibious coils sloshed mud high into the air, even as the greatest bulk of their bodies stood motionless, arms crossed above the bounty of their breasts.

Great storms could hurl fish to new heights and further leagues, and that would explain why Tablas, armed with sword and dagger, stood before the seductresses of land and sea. They, being adults, were massive. Hunger shown in their eyes, for him and his herd, and for each, for there was no love lost between cousins.

‘They see me.’ He thought, watching the flickering gazes they threw him, aware that he was something more than human, but unsure as to what. With mesh built from people, galvanized by words, Lawrence was grateful to his shield, the first strike from the Lamia had been fast enough that when they had finally seen her, it was in leaving—even now blood glistened on her lips, and the length of her body was swollen, full and pregnant with a young, suffocating girl. ‘And if I leave it alive…it will follow me for more…’

The lamia lay upon her coils; by her beauty a fool would sooner think her lounging in wait than ready to strike. Those black eyes carried intelligence, searching the greatest threat for a challenge through a curling curtain of her perfect and dark hair. Her jaws could take in the full width of a man, but her smile welcomed all, particularly her blond, bruised, and beaten cousin.

In desperation, the mermaid hurled herelf over land, an eel-like tail thrashing, who would have thought that these creatures could fly. She beat the water until gravity lost all hold, her missing scales still issuing blood! Ahead of her, came her claws!

Tablas, already on the balls of his feet, already crouched, was one step running and his sword, Black Mesa, coming down. Claws met sword, and were defeated. Tablas in one stride brought himself down into a roll, but still felt the shatter of talons and the dragging weight against the blade as it went through a feminine hand to hit the wrist and explode free in a burst of blood and bone. He felt that instant and the thick enveloping darkness carry him out from underneath a creature still in mid-air alongside half a ruined hand.

He stumbled to his feet, and saw the shadow dart past him. The lamia, emerald and black, chose the larger of the two to kill, he caught her hair as he looked up. He caught her tail against his knees, and was knocked face down.

The mermaid, beautiful in the sea, had starved on land; ribs showing, eyes sunken and screaming in screaming in pain, the sea witch reached new and horrifying sounds as her cousin bit deep into her side.

The greater serpent was pleased with the taste, and bit for more, her mouth naught but fangs. Once, twice, and then amidst undulating muscles, her jaws opened and her own pain sounded. Fact: A mermaid’s jaws extend just as much as a lamia’s might come unhinged. Nature has equipped all animals with weapons, and unnatural creatures are armed in tens of new ways. They, those naked and beastly creatures turned on one another so swiftly that their bodies were soon entwined, teeth snapping, fists and claws thrown.

Black hair flew, the lamia’s head snapped left and right by unnaturally swift blows. The sea had the blond bitch strong With four pale knuckles she tossed the Lamia’s stomach, and still choking on her breath two more cracked the lamias’ eye and brow toppling her over. She spat teeth and blood in her fall.

Quick to finish things, the lady of the sea, followed. Her hands huge, she wrapped them about her foes neck, and, knowing nothing of the mud except that neither her gills nor lungs would take it, crushed the lamia into the soft, enveloping earth. Still starving, the blond took hold of that other’s left breast, deep furrows and trails of blood showing that she had been there before. She pulled- and saw the world flash white and black as her neck struggled not snap in the moment. She fell, a boulder, easily three times her own huge head, falling beside her.

Free, the drowning escaped the sucking mud, gasping as mud escaped her open mouth. She saw her enemy, she saw her limp and unconscious, and looking about found her savior. She found him, fatigued she did not bother to wonder at his help, the swarthy creature called man, but she smiled as instinct said. And she frowned, and hissed too, hearing his tone, “Filthy creature…”

Tablas stood, still fresh if still filthy, well aware that there would never be a better time. “And the thing understands, she’ll make a smart shoe, fine bag, and an excellent pair of garters!” There was no mirth in him, his words broadcast hatred and anger, whether he felt it or not was not important, just the ugly bitter timber of his voice. He flipped the dagger in his downturned hand. And when she turned back again from an easier meal, he threw it, underhanded in every way.

Instinct closed those pale green eyes, but instinct could do nothing as the steel blade of Stolen Virtue cut the lid and iris open…to bounce from the rim of the left socket.

KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAH

The beast screams radiated through the air, and the earth shook as fell clasping at her face and her coils thumped and beat the air. If the mermaid had not been poisoned and concussed from the mortal world, she would have awoken, but her soul, in departing into the primal dark, still wondered as to the source of that horrible noise.

He would not, could not approach that chaos, and so Lawrence was left to wonder until she was done. ‘Why do all the myths make of these feminine things some kind of romance, a fish…a serpent…a lion with breasts? Such things are beyond foolish, the only use such things might have for breast are lead men by cocks to their doo-‘

Tablas side-stepped, a boulder inches away stirred the air he had once stood in. Grinning, grim, and daring Tablas turned to see the last enemy of the hour had ceased her cries, and held her face with one hand to breathe and hiss vengeful loathing in deep huffs. “Well,” he said, taunting her as took a light stance, drawing up his sword, and hopping on the tips of his feet, “here I am, suffer me a little longer…heh, please.”

“AAAAK-HAAAAAAA!!!!!” A fitting reply for limitless rage, there is no translation in any language for such a natural urge to kill and maim and devour! She would beat his body on the trees! SUCK FROM HIS FLESH HIS EVERY BONE! And after all that, she'd have his soul...

Faster than the mermaid, weaving, bursting forward! She was upon him, and where her cousin had gone high this one struck for the heart! The bob and weave was pushed to new levels, ducking lances of white knuckles and filth crusted nails. Tablas was armed, yet Tablas was nigh running, unable to parry one blow lest the next leave him flat.


At the mercy of her furious pace, she chased him in a circle about the swamped clearing, and it should surprise no one when from beneath the murk a length from her tail, from the sixty, tripped him.

Seamlessly, from his back backward he rolled twice, the serpent’s fist blasting up water, leaves, leaches and other vermin into the air. Tablas and the beast had never been so close, and crouched as he was, he sprung, short-sword aimed straight for the heart or lung Tablas could only guess through the warm, blinding spray was there. He stabbed.

He met nothing, the creature was gone… Tablas turned, wildly, and was met by an open hand from the right. The serpent, its single eye gleaming malevolance at Tablas through the fingers she snared him in. She held him tightly. He could not gasp for breath as her free hand sought to collapse every cavity in his chest. From above, from below, she hammered at him until he hung from her grasp, limp.

She thought him dead: she was wrong.

Black Mesa’s white blade skewered her arm, stealing all strength from her tendons; she dropped him, recoiling and hissing even as he pulled his sword free to stab and kill. He hacked a deep trench ‘neath her womanly hip, and when that free left hand struck to ward him off, he turned, well within her reach, and severed that arm just below the bicep.

What was her rebuttal, aside from her guttural scream? To lash him across shoulder, neck, and cheek with her ruined arm, the back of her hand leaving in Tablas a sense of vertigo that did not diminish as he hit the ground some seven feet away. He had been unconscious of the horrendous crack they had made together, the only sound in his darkness: the gentle slosh of warm water. His eyes stung, but it was hard to close them.

“BRAVE SAILOR! NEW FRIEND! BE YE LIVE OR DEAD?”

‘Wha…what a stupid question.’ He thought, swimming among so many other thoughts, imperceptible nothingness finally reaching him, for the first time and finally he would…he would…die…wait…what! ‘No, no, never again! Oh, there aren’t enough gods or devils to make that fate mine again...’

Crawling to his knees, Tables blinked and wiped away the cloying filth that blinded him, and what he saw next was the sight of his flock creeping to his aide, the lamia bunched tightly, hurt, terribly hurt and crying. She hissed at Tablas’ people, slowing their creeping advance. She looked away when she heard it: the steps of closer feet.

Tablas stood, not ready and waiting, but looking for his sword, only to stop when he heard the deep rumble from the coils of his enemy, and saw that she had seen him, and the hate she felt at him for wounds she knew would kill her, only showed through gaping depths of darkness as she opened mouth wide, and an infinite array of monolithic teeth shown yellow.

Unarmed, for Tablas, there was nothing to do but make one more effort. He raised his hands, and planted his feet, his boots soaked through. He did not have the stamina to dodge the lunge. This would be over soon.

Her body already drawn tight, the serpent sprang, her jaws open and her aim still true.The loss of the left eye no great loss at all now. With a power only gods should have, the world a blur of chaos, she hurled herself…into his hands.

Hands strong enough to overpower the greatest men, arms that pulsed with new strength daily, and electric power surging through them, Tablas made to make an end of things. His arms shook, bulging with the strain as he caught the destroyer of men by her brow and shoulder, his arms locked, back straight, and legs shifting on a ground that liked nothing better than spew in all directions than stand firm beneath him. She carried the length of two yards before the charge failed her. She went ridged when bolts of electricity shocked through her body.

Great splashes were sent up, trees shaken, and bats knocked from their slumber as the serpent flailed helplessly. She was only stunned when the voltage stopped, she flopped uselessly, her head only suspended by her hair in Tablas’ grip. There was nothing left to do, he took her chin, and drew her in under his left arm, twisting until the thick column of her spine snapped. The sick pop of bones unhinged shook Tablas to the core. He twisted once more to be sure, and dropped her lifeless torso into her native soil.

With that done, he stood still…turned, and fell atop her, using the lamia’s still warm body to seat himself as leaned his head back, gasping for air and trying not to vomit.

“You okay, sir?” He heard from the safety of the trees, real concern from real people.

“Just…just find my weapons, I’ll be fine. And this,” he smacked that scaled ass, “will be our dinner.”

[Silence Sei]

Tablas could not see all of the men whom he had left. Those who had remained with the sailor found themselves in a constant state of panic. It seemed as though no matter what adversities the group had overcome, they were challenged by a new one every couple of steps. Simultaneous sighs of relief were exhaled once the revelation that their brave leader was alright came to pass their ears. Furthermore, it would seem as though the group would not be starving tonight by any means. The fat carcass of the lamia would provide more than enough meat for everyone, even if it would probably taste like regurgitated swamp water. As Tablas rested, murmurs began to rise from his band of merry fellows, talks of a party later in the man's honor, and no longer serving the Gods and other heresy spoken as common as how ones day went.

All at once, the talks of the men seemed to grow quiet when they heard a sound not unlike that of someone popping a balloon full of water. All the men turned to the darkness of the forest, where they watched one of their own stumble out from the abyss beyond. There was a crimson soaked hole in the white of his shirt, where trails of liquid rubies flowed out from underneath the cloth. He looked up to his kinsmen, prepared to speak a warning to the men, but was cut short. Several grown men found themselves shrieking in horror when they saw the sword run through this man's jugular from behind. The unfortunate soul looked down at the blood soaked blade, his eyes growing wide when he realized he was meeting his end. He made a grunt once the sword started spinning around; tearing out various veins and muscles in the process. The man was dead long before the blade retracted; sinking into the forest from wince it came.

Many a villager found themselves relieved of their meals at that moment. They stood there, watching the lifeless body of their friend face-first in a sea of his own blood. They began to huddle together into a tightly-knit group, surrounding the fearless Tablas as if their very lives depended on it. All of their backs faced the sailor, prepared to die so that the best chance of survival stayed alive long enough to protect them. Their legs were soaked up to their knees in swamp-like water, a result of the vast floods and rainstorms as of late. This water proved to be the downfall of several more men; the first was taken under water, and his entrails wound up surfacing before the rest of his body followed, bits of his intestines bobbing up and down on the surface like human chum. The second had the same blade that had killed his neighbor strike upwards, the precise sharpness of the sword cutting the man clear in half from loins to the top of his head. Both halves slumped into the water, giving a morbid anatomy lesson to the remaining survivors.

By the time the third had been pulled down and had his entire face cut to a mangled heap of what resembled hamburger meat, many of the villagers began to run away. Most of them were thrown back to the group, limbs cut in such a fashion that they were literally hanging on by threads, holes made in faces that determining who the features belonged to was no longer an option. Of the twenty or so men that had gotten this far with Tablas, only three were left remaining. The stood together, their weapons dropped in surrender and awaiting their execution.

"Go. Warn them of my wrath,” the voice spoke, a tone of mercy to a random lucky three. They looked around for the source of the voice, as if they could not believe that man had caused so much carnage in such a short time. They listened to the disembodied tones, however, and ran out of the forest, leaving behind the man who had done so much to ensure their safety. Steps were created with the sounds of splashing water. Several beads of water splashed upon Tablas' weary face, the sudden wetness waking the man up where the screams of his comrades did not. As he opened his eyes, he saw the hilt of a sword coming straight down at his features, followed by the welcoming embrace of blackness....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sei and Tobias had made several strides in catching up to their acquaintance, as two people made heftier strides than a group numbering in the double digits. Between Sei's enhanced agility, and Tobias having naturally quick elf-feet, the two estimated that they would be upon their intended target in almost no time. As they continued their journey, the two were shocked to become across three humanoid forms, running past them as if they had seen N'Jal herself, and screaming something of a demon. Sei and Tobias both turned their heads back towards the hasty forms, only to pause when they both heard a metallic snap; Sei paused from the sudden sound, and Tobias paused because her foot was now lodged firmly in a bear trap.

The girl collapsed to the ground, screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs. Tears and cry of anguish filled the forest as Sei made it to the girl's side, kneeling down and trying to figure out how to pry the metal jaws loose from the elf's leg. Tobias rocked back and forth, as if doing so would ease her pain, and after a minute or two of more screeching, finally gained just enough composure to talk.

"You'd need clamps, Sei...."She managed to speak through grit teeth, "jaws weren't spaced. Somebody....Oh Thaynes make it stop....somebody was expecting us..." Sei grabbed each end of the trap with his hands attempting to pull the thing opened. When the object did not budge, Sei realized that Tobias had been right. He removed his hands from her leg, which was now stained crimson with the agile elf's blood. His eyes went back to Tobias to find the girl unconscious, her breaths rather shallow at this point. The Mystic leaned closer to the green haired woman's face to try and investigate a bit further, only to feel something blunt slam against the side of his head, sending his own body into a hazy darkness, collapsing atop his friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sei regained consciousness, he saw his attacker before him. White slicked back hair, a purple vest that showcased the three abs on either side of his abdomen, the pale, frost white skin. He didn't have to even look the culprit in the face to know who his captor was. "Hello, Ciato..." Sei spoke plainly enough, as if an attempt on his life were a common thing.

"Glad you're awake, baby brother," Ciato spoke with sincerity, pointing his bastard sword towards a figure on the ground. Its head was covered with a black burlap bag, and the rest of the body was covered in a brown bag of the same material. Whoever this person was, Ciato wanted them to not see their end in sight. "It's time that you and your friends learn that you should not interfere with my plans..."

[Knave]

((At first I was like sure, but now I’m wondering what was the point of doing all of this? Just a display of B movie horror?))

What is this darkness?

"Another body…"

Lawrence had been numb for a long time, numb to all good things in life. His flesh, he could feel it down to the very pathways of his blood, the whole network, and from the first time he had changed his form till now, he had felt the nerves dwindle away. Physical pain muted might be a blessing, but the mind could supply pain in any spine shriveling amount.

"So this is where he ended"

Of the good in his life, he could take stock and find himself endlessly wanting. Touch, as good as dead; taste, something he knew more by rhetorical definition; sound, he could still lend his ears to music. To be Lawrence Spades is to be a statue with hinges, to be an automaton and worse; a machine that knew no rest as it slaved for its master, and would know no rest forever.

"Is he…alive…"

Yet, here he lay, senseless, wondering if he were dead with the ease one wonders about the weather.

"Heavier than he looks…"

‘Bound to happen, heh, I never thought it would take so long, though…’ He thought, sincerely hoping that now would be the end of everything—the end of everything, forever. ‘No light…no sound…good...’ None of the planes fabled had hold over his soul, an infinite relief that he might not have deal with anyone he encountered, befriended, betrayed; and no punishment either from gods who failed to protect while managing to judge.

"Jus-just a little more…"

But if this were eternity, and he had been blessed with solitude, why did he feel air—hot, forceful air—pressing into his lungs, and why did the “thump” resound from his chest when it had been years since he had heard his own heart beat at all? ‘No…’ It seemed that the nightmare had not ended, and that this was not the safety of eternal rest.

"Huuff…"

Opening eyes, bloodshot and weary, Lawrence peered up past the emerald hair that lightly fell across Tablas’ face; beyond those emerald locks flew the starry night. He saw her mud stained, pale skin, and caught the pointed bobbing of her ears. She breathed into him, her lips capturing his own. Without knowing how he had come to lie in the muddy banks of the swamp, or what had knocked him from weary consciousness to thoughtful oblivion, he lay paralyzed in this intimate embrace.

"Okay…okay…"

She broke it, her slender hands beating flat against his breast with wet thuds at some frantic imitation of restoring a drowned man to life. Her hair hung disheveled, he did not recognize the storm of worn clothing, mud splatter, and tears that battered him, all he knew was she smelt of the iron tang of blood, the salt of fresh sweat, and the roses of perfume...


We these pages are empty, we fill them with our loss.

Tobias did not know what to do.

Fear and pain had been her world hours earlier that day. She had had nothing to bite down on, when she with her daggers pried open the steel jaws of Ciato’s trap; three molars across either side of her mouth had shattered under her strain, and the nerves were lightning agony for every step and breath; a pain only dwarfed by layers of flesh and skin revealed from white skin to ivory bone.

Sei, the hero she knew, the man she loved, the single most vexingly stupid person she had ever met; she had dragged herself through the forest and swamp searching for someone to help her save him. What she found were bodies, and bodies dismantled perfectly. Even know, as she kneeled and cried over the single whole corpse, behind her were filthy legs of a man who ended in a diagonal line from should to hip, and beside him the vomit that her discovery warranted.

When Tablas face had surface, she had been afraid to touch him. She had waded into the water with the aid of a branch she had found, she had waded through gory mirages made from the flesh of dead men and women. She felt hands brush her ankles, and saw eyes give her league long stares. She had prodded him gently to move him aside, but when his bits and pieces failed to fade back into the murky water, she had dared to feel with her own hand how much of him remained.

She saw so signs of Ciato’s sword, and hope is always most radiant in darkness. Filth intimate with even her open wound, the flow of blood tied off with a tourniquet of her own severed sleeve, on one leg she had dragged Tablas from the water. And there, on the banks of the swamp’s edge with open prairie visible through the copes of trees, she couldn’t bear to accept that this next hope, too, was dead.

“Please, don’t leave me here!” Going this road alone, now obviously too much to bear. Ciato was what Sei was not, cruel and intelligent and strong. Doubtless, Ciato knew what he had done, and this sensation of blood pouring from her skin and the hitching tremble of her breath as exhaustion crept into her lungs: stark anguish. There is nothing like knowing that evil exists, and that today or forever it won soundly. “Ah!” The thought alone stole her breath, and the air from her lungs.

A weight dragged her down, it settled on her shoulders like the one that remained from before and, before she could push the water from her eyes, pressed her head into Tablas’ expanding chest. She struggled, but she couldn’t escape Tablas, and she realized that she didn’t want to.


There is no greater relief than the assurance that you are not alone.

Time passed as they lay together, and finally finding something familiar, no matter how little, Tobias lost herself first in tears and then sleep, leaving Tablas to stare up toward the sky as the seasons rolled and the storm clouds swept by overhead. The sky was dark, and ready to burst it seemed by the gentle thunder.

‘What was that?’ Tablas thought, thinking of the dramatic dismantling of his flock and shield from more than fifteen to none at all. ‘Nothing should ever be that fast…’ And worse, it had been utterly fearless, and cared nothing for meat, so that when it whipped from the darkness its sword and carved from an old farmer much of his shoulder and arm it passed only to fall on another. ‘And why am I not in pieces when so many others instantly were…’

Events had been chaotic before, demanding lightning speed and perilous effort, but never before had Lawrence been so swiftly beaten. He had been weary…but just the same, it had crushed him.

From the map he’d seen, it would be a day to the temple of V’dralla, where he would thieve from a goddess of vanity; the only certainty. There were a few things left to address: the enemy that had made the same of Lawrence, and elf the shape-shifter held in his arm.

[Quentin Boone]

Due to the age of this thread and the fact that Knave and Valanthe have been inactive for over three years, I will only be providing feedback and rewards for Silence Sei. If either you ever return and want to receive rewards for this thread, please PM me and I will ensure that you do.



Silence Sei
Strengths:

You use imagery just enough to add colour to your prose, without making it feel bogged down.
The interaction between Sei and Tobias seemed very real.
You progress the story at a pace that keeps the reader interested and doesn't feel rushed.


Weaknesses:

You tend to ignore setting except where it directly interacts with your characters, as such it feels empty and lacking.
There were several word choice and grammatical errors that would easily have been picked up by a quick proof read.
Early on in the thread, while Sei and Tobias were on the ship, you placed too much emphasis on the fact it was raining. As such, it felt very much forced upon the reader.




Silence Sei receives:

2088 EXP
108 GP


Congratulations!

[Lye]

EXP and GP ADDED!