October Moon

[MiaKane]

(Open to one or two more, please contact if you want to join)

Autumn leaves drifted on a cooling breeze as the light of day faded to a crimson hue. A sigh softly escaped her lips as she watched the scene before her. Twilights like these were the ones that her fallen love and she begged the spirits to give them. A decade after their fall, amongst her winter she would catch herself shedding a tear for times past, of passion shared.

She shook her head, clearing the growing sorrows from her eyes. She continued walking as she caught the scent of burning leaves in the distance. She remembered that this new land, Scara brae was full of threat, but her quest was for one thing only in this land.

A rumor of a sacred blade named after the island.

Her heart burned deeply with an ember that sought only one thing,

Power.

Many times she discounted the thoughts which told her that her quest was solely for power, destructive power. Maybe so, but she knew that it was something deeper.

Vengeance.

Vengeance against those powers that fraught against her and anything that she felt she had to do.

Her soul was almost a vessel for wrath; it was all that filled her mind when she trained, when she fought, when she was covered in the blood of her enemies.

However,

That is a side that is rarely shown, even though her face shows sorrow, her personality never allowed her to fully fall into the darkness. It gave her power, but never took her into itself completely.


She sang a song she had heard at a tavern the night before as she walked down the dusty road towards the next village.

“Wednesday night is mornin’ now
As I’m walkin’ in the rain
The birds are screaming in my ear
Drivin’ me insane….” *

Night had fallen an hour earlier as she walked into the village; her senses directed her almost aimlessly through the main streets till she came to the door of a rather lively tavern. She opened the door slowly unto a wondrous event. The locals were throwing a wedding party for a young couple.

She slid carefully through the crowded tavern to the bar where she caught the attention of the barkeep.

“Do you have a room for the night?”


(OOC:*likes of you again by Flogging Molly
I'm not really expecting to get to the sword mentioned earlier in the post, this is just for me to get back into things really.

[Rosuto]

Entry Log #2:

I have been traveling what I believe to be due north for quite a few hours now. The sun is receding into the horizon, and I have not established my location yet. I have the feeling that I am very uneasy alone at night, and so I must push on, hoping to find something or someone before night falls. If my very being requires companionship to be comfortable, then I must satisfy it or succumb to the horrors unbeknownst to me that lie beyond the darkness in the woods. In fact--

Singing faintly ushered through the trees. Smith closed his journal rapidly and hurried through the thorny bushes towards the source of the music. The thorns snagged onto his shirt and sliced through the linen with ease, leaving the writer with a ragged shirt and several gashes that were too small to be seen, but deep enough to draw blood. By the time Smith reached the road, he held the appearance of a beggar, and the caravan, upon seeing him, were repulsed and sped away quickly.

Dejected, Smith hung his head and dragged his feet along the dirty road for a few minutes before he came across another set of feet. Looking up, Smith found himself standing in front of a house, with a farmer in the doorstep glaring at him.

"What do you want, kid?" he snarled. "Farmer Dicky doesn't like intruders!"

Too tired to eloquently weasel out of the predicament, Smith replied, "Sorry for getting in your way. I'll just be on my way, now." He turned to leave. When the farmer saw the look in the weary traveler's face, his heart softened.

"Hey, I'm sorry for my attitude," the farmer said. "Whaddya need?"

Smith, without turrning, retorted, "A place to stay would be the first thing on my mind."

At that, the farmer frowned. "My house is full at the moment. Company, you see. Try the tavern down the road. They're hosting a wedding party at the moment, and they might have a special area rented out for special visitors." Smith thanked the man for his hospitality, and took his leave.

A few minutes and five houses later, Smith found himself in the tavern that the farmer had suggested. He was right; there was a lively wedding party taking place. Not wanting to get in anyone's way, Smith decided to take a seat in one of the side tables and settle back into his journal.


--My clothes are stained and torn, my appearance is sub-par, and I'm starving! This land is not bearing well so far... What I need to do right now is figure out a way to stay alive first. I have no money to stay anywhere, and I'm growing more nervous by the second.

I just wish something good would happen to me for once. All this lack of memory is starting to wipe me out.

End Entry Log #2

[Breaker]

"Not exactly as planned..."
I stared at my lathered face in the mirror, pondering the day's strange events.

Having grown bored of the inn which he had been residing at, Josh had, on the spur of an impulse, packed up his few posessions and checked out. Wandering through Scara Brae all through the dusty hot day had been incredibly interesting, but also tiring. As soon as the shadows had begun to lengthen, he had set about finding a place to stay. He wanted a little solitude, and had looked in on several inns before selecting a place. It was higher class than he was used to, and more expensive, but the promise of a hot shower and a clean bed, coupled with the fact the inn was practically empty, was too strong a temptation to turn down. Josh had booked a second floor room and dropped his things on the floor inside, then headed straight for the shower. Washing away the day's dust and sweat under the lukewarm liquid was like heaven compared to the frigid showers he had grown used to. When he finally turned the water off, the Agent was feeling quite content, but the feeling evaporated when he stepped out of the shower.

The entire hotel seemed to be alive with noise and movement. Dresing hastily, Josh went down to the desk and asked the clerk what was going on. A wedding reception, it turned out. Josh was one of the few in the hotel who wasn't a guest. Groaning inwardly about his loss of solitude, he had turned away from the desk and nearly trampled one of the bride's maids. She was a young attractive medium blond, and Josh apologized profusely without even thinking. It was as he headed back toward the staircase that she caught his shoulder. Would he like to be her escort at the wedding reception that night? The question floated through his mind. He was caught off guard, but physically attracted to the woman.

"I got nothing better to do."

It was hard to believe I had gotten a date out of trying to be alone. The offer was too good to turn down, though. I hadn't been on anything resembling a date since I had walked through that damned portal. And the blond's eyes were impressive. Maybe even worth getting to know impressive. So I stood in front of the mirror in that tiny inn bathroom, flicked open my razor and started to shave.

A half hour later I was on my way down the inn's wide staircase. My eyes scanned the crowd expertly, and picked the blond's shining smile out in a far corner. She saw me at the same time, and started to move toward me. Figuring it would be easiest to converse near the wall, I stayed put at the foot of the stairs. Glancing around, I was relieved to see that most people weren't dressed too much fancier than me. Due to the primitive likes of Althanas, I fit right in in my black duds. Flashing the blond a quick smile, I scanned the room again. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Perhaps I would be able to join them. As my eyes repeated the room scan seemingly of their own accord, I doubted it. All my training had made me similar to a human radar. Always on the lookout for danger.
"I never get to have any fun... maybe tonight that will change."

[MiaKane]

Mia sighed as the warm water rolled down her back; her mind freed itself from her mortal coil and floated amongst the dreams of ease.

Pink ponies galloped through fields of purple flowers and into the maws of black and white tigers, the blood sprayed across the heavens until the cherub gods vomited waterfalls of ninjas bearing fireworks and tea for the savages of far off lands and a small ferret kept repeating the words “cheese is good” even though a very small gnome lived inside it and entered and exited by a small door in the back of the ferret’s head.

She shook her head; perhaps the shower was a little too relaxing. She was surprised that she hadn’t fallen and hit her head like last time. Her hand found the knob and turned off the water as she cleared her head.

She toweled off quickly and laid upon the lumpy bed that took up the better amount of space in the room while she thought on the rather odd dream. Slowly the sounds of the festivities crept back into her mind; she could never really pass up a party, at least not without adding her two drunken cents to the affair. She found her clothes and donned them as quickly as she could, nearly putting her shirt on backwards before exiting and then quickly returning to grab her glasses. She left her swords and bag behind, having been told earlier by the spirit of the original owner that she would tell her if anyone tried to take them.

The party was still in full swing as she stepped slowly down the stairs and deftly moved towards the bar. The bartender from earlier had apparently left as a young woman now tended the needs of the soused and inebriated.

Mia’s eyes darted around the selection that lined the wall before she had to take a double take on a very special bottle that caught her eye. Her lips curved into an ear to ear bridging smile as she took in the sight of the dark blue bottle, the neck curving in a corkscrew before ending in an eyeball shaped topper

Valthanian wine.

The tender approached Mia quickly when she noticed the ice elf almost leaning over the counter.

“You have got to be kidding me? You can’t possibly want a shot of that horrible stuff?” the barkeep asked with an almost worried look.

Mia simply nodded as she sat back down on the stool.

“What ever,” she replied as she took out a small shot glass and slowly poured the ice elf a shot, “that’s fifteen silver lass”

Mia couldn’t get the money out fast enough as she handed the girl twenty on accident.

Vathanian wine, which looks more like a thin green soup than an alcohol tastes something like a rotting lime and a deer carcass at the same time while still retaining a slightly sweet taste of salted licorice and it kicks harder than the fifteen year old mule that the lady down the street who has that weird hobbly limp thing going on was hit by when that mule got pissed off at her and put her over the fence into the neighbor’s compost pile that had just been softened with fresh manure from the goat owned by that guy that smells like old gym socks who lives down by the river.

Long story short, tastes horrible and burns all the way down, which is exactly what Mia loved in her alcohol, though most say it’s that deer carcass flavor, but she usually doesn’t remember why she got it in the first place.

Within moments Mia stumbled slowly around the room, dancing once in a while, and trying to sing between hiccups, which matched in with most of the drunker party guests. Stumbling to and fro she slightly remembers almost bumping into a very well dressed man in a black suit and finally sitting at a table where a rather ragged man, who stood out very well due to the fact that he was writing in a book instead of wasting the night away dancing or looking at the bottom of a glass.

“Urrr a funny fellow aaaaa’nt cha, with urrrr funny little book (Hic) “ she said while resting her elbow on the table and pointing at the man that sat across from her.

It was however very fortunate at the moment that she was drunk, and therefore did not feel the pain when her head smacked forward into the top of the table in a sudden moment of alcohol induced unconciousness.

[Rosuto]

She's coming. Don't sneeze. It's the moment of truth, kid. Don't screw it up now. It's your only chance. She's nearly here... don't choke!

"Excuse me-- miss, but I was wondering-- if I could have some water. I'm-- extremely thirsty." The waitress nodded and walked off. Smith grinned, and stuck his nose into his journal again. He barely noticed the party going on around him, and he couldn't care less. After all, he was only there for a place to stay, and everyone looked too busy to be bothered. After all, flashes of elegant dresses whirled around the room, led by spiffy looking men in important clothes. Next to everyone else, Smith looked like a hobo. Some people gave him dirty looks behind his back.

The water came, and Smith thanked the waitress. He took a sip of water, and sighed in relief as the refreshing liquid cleared his parched throat. Now that he could speak clearly, Smith started to stand up, but quickly regained his composure and held his seat. He had suddenly remembered his hygiene.

"Maybe you should just leave," Smith heard a voice behind him say. "You don't belong here."

Smith turned his head to find a burly looking man staring back at him. "I came for some water, and I think I'll try to enjoy that, if you don't mind," Smith shot back, turning back.

The man's face turned red. "I said, you don't belong here!"

"Just carry on and don't worry about me," Smith said. When he heard a little pop behind him, he winced. The man was postively infuriated now.

"Get OUT!" he said. "Or else."

"Or else what," Smith retorted, "you'll turn even redder?"

"Butch, calm down," a voice said from behind Butch. "This man doesn't mean you any harm. Just enjoy the party."

Butch's face softened, but he was still breathing heavily. "Yeah, Darlene, but he's so ugly! He shouldn't be at your wedding party!"

"Don't worry about it. Just come dance with me."

"Yeah, okay..." He acknowledged Smith. "You got lucky, punk. I would've smashed your face in." Darlene mouthed the words "I'm sorry" as she led him away. Crisis averted, Smith took another sip of water. Just then, a woman decided to sit at his booth. Smith had enough encounters for the night, but he couldn't avoid this.

She muttered something before passing out. Just great, Smith thought. I can't be responsible for this woman. I can't even be responsible for myself.

"Uh, can anyone here take this here woman? My hands are tied!"

[Breaker]

I was surprised. The blond bridesmaid managed to hold my attention fairly well, and turned out to be an excellent conversationalist. In my previous experience, women willing to ask a man out on the spur of the moment are only interested in one thing, and it isn't talking. I had to steer our conversation away from anything too local, due to the fact that I knew next to nothing about Althanas as a whole. A had picked up a few tidbits here and there, and used them like name drops, trying to make myself fit in. It was a good party. The room was dimly lit, and while some groups (couples, often as not) were talking in secluded corners, large groups of people milled around in the central area, talking it up. There was even a little dancing in one corner, following the sounds of a skilled old man harping away on his fiddle. Every now and again someone would sneak off to their room, often as not accompanied by another special someone. This pleasing atmosphere, coupled by blondie's constant attention and conversation helped relax me a little.

Before long, my constant scanning of the room became less frequent, and sloppy. The only time anything that even constitued startling happened was when a crazy haired drunk girl nearly knocked me over. I fended her stagger off easily enough, and she got herself going in another direction. Although her atire reminded me of a character from the Japanese Animation cartoons back on Earth, I felt myself hoping that the girl wouldn't get tripped into a room with some oppurtunist, unwashed man, or men. As far as I knew, there were no laws against date rape in Scara Brae. I decided to keep an eye on the girl, which wasn't difficult because her strange, fiery hair with coal-like highlights was easily visible from any vantage point. Dividing my attention between the sloshed pixie and my blond date, I truly relaxed into the party situation.

It felt like a party I might have gone to back home, while I was in high school. Back then, at any given party I would have two main objectives: Find a hot girl and hold her attention as long as possible, and keep an eye on my drunk friends to make sure they don't do anything too stupid. This felt a lot like that had, but my rigorous training at the UCA had made me better at it. Much better. I made a silent vow to myself that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to the red haired alcoholic. It was as if by stumbling into me, she had hired me as a personal bodyguard. I stayed put, talking with blondie, and glancing at highlight head on occasion. She had seated herself at a table with a young looking guy who didn't look like he would try anything stupid. Figuring she would be safe there, I decided to learn blondie's name.

She had told me what it was, of course. Probably the first thing she told me. Name's had never been that important to me. After a couple glances, I could have told anyone she was a medium-blond (shoulder length hair) with blue eyes, about five feet seven inches, about a hundred and twenty pounds. Long legs, for her height, and a small, straight pink scar on the left side of her lower neck. She was wearing the same dress as all the other bridesmaids, so that was easy enough. And she had gold hoop earrings, which looked nice on her. It took me about ten seconds to learn that, and over an hour to learn she was also a very nice person. In keeping with that, it seemed only polite to learn her name. I made a joke about maybe having had too much to drink, and asked for it again. She giggled into her wine glass then looked at me with her sapphire eyes glowing.

"Gabrielle."

I said, hi Gabrielle, I'm Josh, nice to meet you. She giggled again, and I figured at that point, if I asked her, she would come back to my room with me. Not that I was interested in doing that, though. I wasn't sure about infections on Althanas, but if they had anything similar to AIDS, I was sure as hell afraid of it. Resisting the growing temptation to extend that invitation to Gabrielle, I glanced over at the redhead, and took another drink from a server. It was only my third. I like to keep a clear head at all times. Getting drunk like some people do would render me essentially useless as an Agent for as much as 12 hours, something which, on Althanas especially, was unacceptable. I had been in more random fistfights and scuffles in the past few days than I had on the streets of Winnipeg in the past two years. The people there were animals. With a few exceptions. Gabrielle, after all, was a very nice person. I enjoyed talking to her so much that I totally failed to notice when the drunken carrot top passed out on her table.

[MiaKane]

“Now I’m aimin' for heaven
But probably wind up down in hell
Where upon this alter I will hang my guilt ridden head
But it’s time I’ll take before I begin
Three sheets to the wind, Three sheets to the wind
Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be
Ah, no ball or chain no prison shall keep
We’re the rebels of the sacred heart
I said no ball or chain no prison shall keep
We’re the rebels of the sacred heart”*

The badly slurred words of the song were barely audible as Mia all but gargled them out into a small, yet growing puddle of drool that was forming from her slightly open lips. There was a groan as consciousness faded in and out for a few moments before something in the back of her mind told her to try and move.


There was only a minor twitch in her muscles before she slid out of the chair and onto her back on the floor, her right leg still hanging off the seat of the chair.

“Ow” she mumbled with a short series of drunken laughter. Through her drunken haze she could hear some of the people commenting on her, yet she was too far gone to really know what they said. They seemed to be leaving her alone for now at least. She smiled as things went dark, only the muffled sound of the music drifted in her mind.

She opened her eyes for a moment to see the room above her spin and warp. She smiled to herself, having felt that she was happy knowing that they hadn’t watered the wine down any. She tried to move again but her body was feeling just too comfortable as it was.

~~~

She was unsure of how long she lay there before she was shaken from her comfort by a strong hand lifting her up with gentle care. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes while looking at the steel grey eyes that looked back at her. She was standing and the party was still going, except that it had stopped around them. People stared in wonder at the man that was helping the ice elf to stand. His graying black hair and beard covered his hansom face.

She smiled at him before having to take a double take at what had caught everyone elses attention. His right arm was a large bulk of steel plates and bolts, steam poured out of a number of outlets and she could see fires burning inside what looked like stoves, even one that rest inside his chest. She could hear just above the music the whir and hisses of cogs and pumps.

Her mouth was dry as she opened it to speak, the wine beginning to wear off and quickly.
“I...I…”she stammered, unsure what exactly to say” uh thank you.”

He nodded as he began to move through the crowd, slowly as if he knew they would move for him, but he still wanted to be courteous. The ice elf shook her head, unsure of what had just happened as she watched for a moment before starting after her, she was still a little wobbly as her land legs had yet to return, but still she was able to correct and make her way through the crowd behind him.

“Hey, wait, hey…” she called out, but the music either drowned it out or he just ignored her.

She caught up with him at the bar as she heard his deep gruff voice ask the bartender for a case of ever clear. Her jaw dropped as the bartender had to heave to get the large box of bottles onto the bar yet the man grabbed it with his one metal arm and walked to the door.

She thought quickly, as she ran up the stairs and grabbed her pack, and waved goodbye to the spirit that was watching over them. She forced her way through the crowd as she tried to catch up with him.

(* Rebels of the Sacred Heart by Flogging Molly)

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.