Beneath the Shadows of my Dreams

[The Mongrel]

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A few months ago, Underwood was at the heart of my world. It's the way out of Radasanth to everywhere else in Corone, and the way to Radasanth for the other cities. When you're the person in charge of organizing the movements of an underground network across the populous human nation, it's the best place to have a hub. My little Unfoundlings could scurry from place to place at my word, or if something needed to be delivered quickly, I could run a message myself. I can go further in a day than any well cared-for horse, and that speed had long been an asset to Unfounded.

Right under the nose of the damnable Ixians, I made deals and relayed orders on behalf of our leader in the capital. I beat the Orlouge dogs at cards, listened to their plans when their drunken members couldn't help but blabber. In the well-shaded Concordian town, where hard-working craftsmen and various laborers toiled side by side, I had made a comfortable place for myself. There were no grand halls, no fancy gatherings, no politics save the occasional hit ordered on a rival criminal. I preferred it that way. The life I'd built was better for me, more comfortable for me, than the grandeur, glitter, and grace I'd spent my childhood skulking beneath.

I'd gone back to Raiaera to half-ass an excursion into the Lindequalme. My homeland had sent word far and wide, seeking adventurers to go into the Red Forest for the glory of defeating Pode. When I saw the proclamation, my initial reaction was to scoff. Raiaera had rejected me from the cradle, and as far as I cared, it could burn. But then I'd received a letter from my brother, directly asking me for my help. I didn't care about the redemption he offered, nor about how I could prove to the rest of my race that I was not a monster.

Raiaera can burn from Belegwain I Beleg to Tembrethinil, from Eluriand to Benoist, from the Dusk Mountains to the Dagger Peaks. It can burn until all that remains is ash. It can burn until it is mere memory. It can burn until it never was.

But him, I owed a debt.

It was at my brother's bidding I went, thinking I'd half-ass my way through a few days of the campaign and then turn around in defeat. Instead, I'd ended up being one of the five Pode slayers. I was the most famous one, since the High Bard Council grabbed onto my blood and promoted me as a hero of the people. It almost didn't matter that I was half Alerian when the ashes settled on the Day of Burning. Almost.

The recognition had ruined my life. I wasn't safe for the people I cared about, not in the immediate aftermath, and so I needed to leave them. It was risky to even be in my favorite old tavern, but sometimes a person just needs to say goodbye.

I sat in the darkest corner with my hood up, a pint of punky, bitter ale on the table in front of me. The pub was barely populated at this time; most people tend to be working in the early afternoon. The bartender was getting ready for the evening ahead. The couple of local drunks were already into their second pints. But on the whole, it was very, very quiet in that old musty tavern. So quiet I could even hear the horses across the street and the blacksmiths' hammers over in the next quarter.

It was better to be here in the stillness. After all, no one would question if I was that particular halfbreed.

Hopefully.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The weight of Tobias Stalt's gold was heavy in my satchel as we walked the busy streets of Underwood. Hyperion and I had just gotten off the carriage from Radasanth, and we were tired. And sore. The ride was a relatively rough one--the driver managed to hit every possible rut along the way, and we barely stopped for anything. Including rest.

Needless to say, the only tip he got was a very stern verbal one.

Hype took in the sights of the bustling little lumber town. She hadn't been here before, and was eager to take in all these new sensations. She breathed in the scents of sawdust and animal pelts that wafted from the industrial district. She gazed at the merchants in their fine silks as they peddled their numerous wares. She bought herself a slab of raw beef, but hesitated for the longest second after raising it to her mouth. Poor thing wasn't able to eat through her polished mythril face mask; but she was hesitant to take it off in public, as revealing her gnarled, toothy visage would probably scare more than just the children who ran through the streets.

"So, what do we do now?" she asked as she wrapped the steak in paper and slid it into an empty pocket in her bag.

I thought back to my conversation with my old friend. Stalt had asked me for so much, and I needed time alone to think about how I was going to turn down his offer, even after he paid half up front to help grease the wheels.

"We go explore," I said with a smirk.

Hype's glowing amber eyes brightened at the prospect. I waved her off. "Go on, have some fun. Just stay out of trouble."

The plant creature took a tentative step away from me, but turned back. "Where should we go first? There's so many places to go here. So many interesting people to meet. I can smell them all."

"I'm not coming with, Hype," I said with a motherly smile. I'm going to find us a place to stay for a while. Go, have some fun."

She tilted her head to the side. "Are you sure?"

I laughed. "Of course. You've been very busy while I was away. You deserve some time off. I'll meet you at the fountain in the middle of town at sundown. Now go, already!"

Hyperion hesitated for a brief moment, and then took off like a bolt of green lightning wrapped in religious robes and a face mask. "Walk, please," I shouted after her through cupped hands. The creature immediately slowed her step to a brisk walk as she darted down a side street.

The poor thing had worked herself to near death keeping up with my experiments while trying to find out what happened to me after I was kidnapped by the two mercenaries who decided to cash in on the bounty on my head. She had missed me terribly in the months that followed; the time that I had lain low in Lornius, hoping the heat had died down after the ship that was transporting me to Terrinore crashed upon the rocks. The time I spent in Piston's as a member of casino security with that ol' metal-armed lug, John Cromwell.

My hasty meeting with Maladim Karunungan, and the tasks I was given by him in exchange for making me whole again.

The least I could do for her was allow her time to unwind and have some fun learning more about the world around her while I got back to work myself, rekindling relationships with liquor suppliers and book publishers.

The weight of Stalt's gold in my bag began to feel more like an albatross around my neck. It screamed at me to give into my darkest desires, but... That's not who I am anymore.

I shuffled my boots down the cobblestone streets and down a back alley, where I would not be seen. There were a couple scholars I needed to pay a visit to, first. I took a seat cross-legged on the dirty ground and extended vines from my wrists. I pulled out my Archivist's notebook, and started scribbling in it in order to pull up their addresses.

A lump formed in my throat as I pressed one of my bone pens to the page. Deep inside, I felt the pull of a very unique, very dark shard of energy. One that I had only experienced once before when I bonded with the world around me. A tainted, bloody taste in the back of my mouth I felt when I read the orc poet's soul in the Citadel. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and fell into the depths of the magic stirring inside me.

Pode. Another one of her chosen was here. In Underwood. Not far from where I sat.

However, the more I tried to focus on this stranger's energy, the darkness flickered momentarily. The Forgotten One's gift was overcome by a brilliantly bright energy that I had yet to taste. It was pure white, pure burning, fiery white. The shard of Pode's soul fought against it, but was constantly suppressed.

I had to meet her. I had to see who this mysterious person was, who was touched by Pode and didn't succumb to her power. I lashed my Archivist's notebook shut, adjusted the strap of my satchel, and rushed towards the tavern where I would find them.

[Alyssa Snow]

Alyssa's story was one of unrelenting strife. Months had passed since the High Bard Council summoned flocks of unfamiliar faces to her home in the Red Forest. Prior to the Red Crusade, Alyssa and her new family within the Tarot lived peacefully in their underground mansion. The ragtag arny's presence stirred something wrong, something sinister. By the time the Tarot moved to defend their forest, war broke out. Mortals challenged a god.

In the fray, Alyssa was hand picked as one of Pode's playthings. The young girl, still new to much of the world, learned that the same blood which pumped in her own veins beat within the chest of a Forgotten horror. The battle challenged every fiber of her being and ended on a sour note. On still nights where no sound or breeze stirred in her room, Alyssa still felt the dull pain where Pode's clawed grasp plunged into her chest.

However, the nightmare ended. Alyssa stood while the grand witch fell to ashes. In her final moments, she saw four others, warriors of the same cause. Among them, a half elf which carved words of wisdom into Alyssa's memory.

"It’s not what you’re made of that matters. It’s what you make of yourself."

The young blonde took those words to heart. In fact, had they not been spoken, Alyssa would have succumb to Pode's touch. Since then, the girl emerged anew, a victor, a god slayer, and an Empress. With the entire Tarot under her protection, she vowed a time of peace, growth, and happiness. Fate, as it were, would not permit her such luxuries.

A man she grew fond of, Tobias Stalt, murdered those who now looked to her for protection. One of their own had turned on the rest without reason or warning. The Tarot wanted blood for his crimes, but Alyssa wanted answers. So, with a letter sealed in the crest of Dehlos, a nation across the ocean, she ventured east.

"Awfully quiet back there miss," spoke Johannes, the merchant, as he focused his sights on the road ahead of him.

Among the barrels, crates, and twine bound goods, Alyssa stared endlessly to the swaying canopy of green above. The joyous song of birds filled the air, and the warmth of the sun danced on her fair skin between the shadows. With legs crossed, head nestled in a pile of furs, and gentle rock of the carriage on the cobblestone road, most would have drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Instead, her mind fixed on one man.

"You even alive back there, miss?" Johannes turned around with concern painted on his weathered features.

"Oh! Sorry!" Alyssa squeaked, jumping from her brooding trance. "Had my mind fixed on something is all!"

Johannes shrugged and turned to the road with a light flick of the reins.

"We're approaching Underwood's gates if you'd like to take a look."

Alyssa lifted herself out of the cargo and leaned against the driver's back rest. Nearly tall as the surrounding trees themselves stood a wooden fortress wall. Every five meters, about four stories high, perched elves and humans alike with bows clutched in their hands. Like eagles, they peered outward for any sign of danger.

"It's so tall..." she mumbled.

"Yes ma'am. Built several centuries ago by the Rangers themselves. It's withstood many a siege, and seen several generations through its gates. I, myself, am the third generation of my family to follow this trade route through Underwood."

"Amazing!"

As the carriage entered the gates, the streets came to life with a flood of color. Fabrics of different nations and quality draped off merchants and civilians alike. Each stand passed offered something new, exotic, and special.

"This is as far as I can take you. I just won't have the room once I stock up on cargo for Jadet."

Alyssa smiled at her generous acquaintance.

"Thank you. I really do appreciate it," she stated sincerely as the wagon came to a halt.

"No problem miss. Any friend of Anvil's is a friend of mine. You tell that old statue that Johannes still hasn't forgotten our wager and he owes me a bottle of his fire whiskey!"

"Will do, Johannes." Alyssa mounted the side of the cart and with a kick, she landed in the central court of the fortress town. She fetched her belongings from a satchel on the side and slung her concealed rifle to her back.

"Well, good luck with your adventure, miss!" With that farewell, the seasoned merchant snapped the reigns and rode off into the fray.

Alyssa took a deep breath of all Underwood's sweet and savory scents. She exhaled and took in her surroundings. Three weeks had passed since she left Raiaera, and much of which with little or no rest. With an empty stomach and parched lips, she set her gaze on a small, and less trafficked tavern. A place to rest, eat, and prepare for the long journey eastward.

She tugged the strap of her rifle close to her chest and made way.

[The Mongrel]

Places know when they're playing host to dangerous things. There's a stillness that comes over them, a cold, tense terror that permeates the air. If there are people around, they tend to go about their lives, oblivious to what's creeping in among them. The clamor and bustle of humanity drones on, the over-noise that's so damned sure of itself.

Beneath that, though, Underwood had fallen silent. It curdled and simmered, breathlessly waiting to see if hell would unleash itself today or if it had another peaceful respite. Radasanth often had this same silence, as killers and wreckers of dreams stole through the dark corners and the bright streets, taking their pleasure with near impunity. The Lindequalme's tension had been so blatant that even humans had felt it. I'd even felt it in Underwood before, usually when Sei Orlouge deigned to grace the town with his presence, or one of his more powerful goons was there in his stead.

The Silver Tankard spread thirty strides by fifty strides, so wide that the fires that roared at either side in the winter couldn't warm the middle, but it began to feel claustrophobic. My contacts itched fiercely, reminding me that if trouble broke out and I got hit in the face, I'd probably lose the sight in at least one eye. I'd been in fights in this tavern before, though, and knew how to take care of myself. It was only a second to be up in the rafters, another to be out a window or dispensing violence on the unsuspecting.

The under-silence grew ever stiller, and I began to hear rushing footsteps, no further than three hundred feet away.

I wonder who is coming.

The oaken door swung open, letting a little nearly-afternoon light lance briefly through the middle of the room. A tallish blonde woman stepped through, looking for either food or shelter, or both. I recognized her immediately; we'd fought Dur'Taigen and been taunted by Pode together. I'd seen her in the Witch's fountain, one of the five victorious. One of the five royally fucked. If Alyssa Snow's experience had been anything like mine, what she'd lost in the Red Forest far outweighed what she'd gained.

She can't be the source.

Knowing that the powerful terror spooking Underwood, whatever it was, wasn't even likely to come into the tavern, I stood. Tradition dictates that when you see an old comrade in arms, you share a round or two of drinks and exchange stories. The girl - the golem - hadn't known very much about the world when last I saw her, and whether or not it was a tradition I felt like embracing, I wasn't going to pass up a teachable moment. Not when she was so much like a young me.

Besides, it's better than drinking alone.

I don't know if Alyssa had seen me yet when the door opened again. The silence I thought I'd noticed, the stillness, the tension all came to a head, so tight it could burst. I recognized the pale skin, the face. It had been on wanted posters across the world. It had also been in Pode's fountain. Of all the beings on Althanas, she was one of a handful with whom I never wanted to cross paths.

Madison Freebird. And her eyes were looking for something specific. For someone specific. Perhaps the Ditz. Perhaps the Dog.

Trouble had come.

Fuck.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Trying desperately to hide my welling excitement, I rushed up the short stone steps towards the front door of the tavern. The sign hung from the door had a painted silver tankard overflowing with foam on it, with elegant script saying as much painted above it for the convenience of those in Underwood who could read. I laid my hands on the door knob, gave it a twist, and threw the wooden slab open.

And then I realized that I had no plan whatsoever of how I was going to act once I found the Chosen. Who was I even looking for?

I quickly scanned the interior of The Silver Tankard. It was spacious for a bar, but given the traffic that rolled through the forest city, that certainly helped. It was a bit drafty, it smelled like ass, the floors were sticky, but like most good taverns it felt like home. A small crowd for this time of the day stood and sat, trading stories of their travels and adventures over half-emptied pints of ale.

"Where the hell are they," I muttered to myself as I slowly shut the door behind me.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and fell into the dark magic that swirled in the recesses of my being. I tapped into the shards of her soul within me, and asked for the clarity to see her Chosen. She granted it almost immediately, and my mind was filled with a mixture of darkness and the overwhelming purity of the stars above.

Opening my eyes, I looked directly at the source of this strange energy. She sat at a table across the room, her black hair framing her ashen face. Her piercing green eyes were looking right at me--and she did not look comfortable. Could see sense our shared power?

Once upon a time, I would've singled her out, slit her throat, and absorbed the gifts that Pode left behind inside her. But that was a different Madison for a different age.

It's amazing what a new lease on life will do to your mindset, isn't it?

I felt a tap on my shoulders. "Is there anything I can get for you, ma'am?" It was this waifish little thing in a dirty dress. Her smile was friendly enough, and she carried a wet serving tray in one hand.

"Yes, a glass of Dwarven Forge, please," I replied.

"Oooh, someone's feeling adventurous," she said with a wink before turning away and moving towards the bar. Adventurous indeed; but when you've discovered that you can actually get drunk again, you may as well go big.

With the barmaid out of the way, I made a beeline towards the table. A lump began forming in my throat as I moved across the tavern floor towards this mysterious Halfling. What was I going to say? How was she going to react? That look on her face told me that she was already aware of who I am...

But before I could double back and leave the place before something unnecessary occurred, I found myself standing across from her at the table. I paused for several seconds, and took a deep breath. I was ready for anything.

I motioned towards a chair. "Mind if I join you?"

[Alyssa Snow]

The young girl opened the door to the establishment and immediately basked in the waft of all things foul and familiar. Her mind instantly questioned her decision to stay the night here, but concluded it would be better than roughing it in the second deadliest forest known to the mainland. Before she made her way to the counter to discuss room and fare, an odd feeling sent a cold pang up her spine. The hairs on the girl's arm stood at attention and the back of her neck prickled with unrest. Something pulled her eyes to the back of another woman. The black hair in a short cut and rather plain build picked at her curiosity, but it was the face that connected all the dots.

Prior to the demise of Alyssa's pseudo-mother, the young homunculus envisioned four other scenes. These were warriors, fighting a similar battle. The woman was one of the four.

And while her eyes locked onto this mysterious source of unease, another familiar face came into view.

"Illara..." Alyssa mumbled to herself.

"Will ya quit standin' there. It's killing my mood..." she heard a patron comment just a few feet from her.

"Oh, sorry!"

Alyssa brought herself back to reality and began to move for the counter. She kept the two in the corner of her eye as she moved, curious as to how two of the five were in the same place at the same time as herself.

"Hello, miss. What can I get for you?" asked the rugged woman behind the cedar counter. In her hand she held a rag that vigorously cleaned the worn surface.

"A room for the night, if you could." Alyssa stated, keeping her attentions elsewhere. The keep raised a brow.

"The going rate is 10 gold for the night, but I'm afraid we're booked at the moment. Should have one or two checking out before the sun's peak. You can wait in the lobby if you like." The keep gestured to the dingy seating area pocked with a few shady looking occupants.

"Alright, I'll wait in the lobby for now. Could you flag me when one of them checks out?"

The keep nodded quietly and Alyssa gave her a soft bow in thanks. She spun on her heels toward the many open tables, but her feeling of anxiety toward the unknown third champion trumped her desire for seclusion. Instead, Alyssa carried herself toward Illara and the stranger but kept her grip firm on the strap of her rifle.

"Hey, old friend!" Alyssa interjected. "Been a while, huh?"

As she stood table-side, the homunculus took a moment to glance the strange woman over. Though she did not seem threatening, as one of the champions, Alyssa knew it would be wise not to drop her guard. Aside from being one of the five, Alyssa felt something... dark about her.

"And you are?" Alyssa's tone was formal, but held a pinch of venom.

[The Mongrel]

Son of a whore, child, did you need to come over here? Can you not hear Underwood trembling?

Alyssa Snow barely had two decades to her; she didn't know how to navigate a delicate tension such as the one between the Scourge of Eiskalt and Unfounded's Running Dog. If she misstepped or misspoke and the curse-touched woman was in a mood for murder, many people were going to die.

I didn't take my eyes off Madison, though I did give Alyssa a nod. "It has been some time."

Dwarven Forge, she'd ordered. There'd been a note of eagerness in her voice, an excitement. She was neither casually immune to the effects of the drink and had not ordered the potent liquor recently. A woman her size, assuming average tolerance, would be on her ass by the time she'd consumed the pint. If I could just keep the situation balanced long enough...

Why the hell is this my job? Probably because she hunted me down and sought me out. Meaning that if she's in a mood to murder, it's my ass first. Damn. Well, let's see what she wants, I suppose. If push comes to shove, I'm probably fast enough to counter attack if she tries anything at this range, anyway. At least, I can buy Alyssa enough time to get off a shot.

I nodded to the chair the dark haired woman was gripping and flagged for another ale, curling my fingers slightly. One of the two people at the bar finished his drink and wandered out the door, illuminating the corner for a moment and throwing the woman across the table into sharp silhouette.

The silence had gone on long enough, and the tension from the blonde toward the stranger was ramping by the second. It was time to speak, to keep attention on me. "Looking to hire mercenaries, Freebird?"

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

It took a second, but memories of the blond's visage came flooding back.

I had seen her before, when I was wrist-deep in Pode's energies, my briar-knit hands wrapped tightly around her splintered soul. She was the girl who had been consumed by fire, that was struggling alongside me in a different part of the Red Forest. Similarly to me, she had also been touched by the Forgotten One, and escaped the cursed wood as one of the five who destroyed her for good. She seemed to have been taking her fate in stride. Alyssa Snow, I believe her name was. I could've been wrong, though; I could only grab scraps of news regarding Raiaera's celebrations as I hightailed it out of that blasted country.

"Madison," I replied to her inquiry, my glance quickly moving to the mean-looking rifle that she had slung across her shoulder. The way her fingers were wrapped tight around the leather strap of her rifle said a thousand words about how untrusting she was of me. I suppose given my reputation and actions in the past, it was warranted.

"I'm not here to kill you, if that's what you're worried about." I turned back towards the elf. "Neither one of you."

Alyssa's steely gaze softened just a bit, but she did not relax as I took my seat at the table. "I just happened to be in the area and thought I would investigate a little..." Gods, what word to use? "...disturbance, I guess you could say?"

I pointed a finger at the Halfling with the green eyes. "The look you gave me when I walked in--I know you could feel my presence. I know she could too," I motioned towards the gunslinger.

"Honestly, I just came in here out of curiosity more than anything." I gazed at the dark-haired elf again. Curious about what the hell else you have floating around inside you.