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Post by Arina Fae on Jan 11, 2018 22:01:18 GMT
Those that travel to southwestern Gardenia may witness a peculiar site. It is a town surrounded by wooden walls, halfway up a rocky slope. At each perceived corner of the fort rests a small tower, a place for archers and guards to keep an eye on the surroundings. At first it might not have been obvious of what they were defending the town against, but an individual only needs to look to the region bordering the town to see what they were wary about.
The town seemed as if it was eaten by a vast forest. It was a benefit and a problem for the town. The forest offered the townsfolk access to meat, leather and plants. However, it also housed dangerous animals that would occasionally try to approach the town. Some were small boars, but there was also the occasional great ape and leopard.
These days something else troubles that down called Duskwood. A plague has struck, and a majority of the townsfolk have fallen ill. The origin unknown, the strength unknown and the future unknown, the Duke of Dusk province has chosen to quarantine the area. Only specialists would be allowed in the town. Even then, regional politics have limited those specialists to those that were neither the best nor the worst—Doctors and apothecaries that would not have been a loss to Gardenia.
It is for that reason that the help was not prepared to tackle the illness that has set within the village. They lack the herbs needed to combat the symptoms appearing in all of the villagers. That is why they have sought out help from the surrounding towns. Summerfield province did not ignore those cries for help. Pamphlets lined its towns’ walls requesting people to gather food and herbs to help Duskwood.
Arina and her sister, Lysse, saw those same advertisements. Without any hesitation, they both chose to offer their assistance in their own way. Two days later, and they were getting off at the edge of Duskwood Forest.
”Mr. Important over there says we are splitting up, I’m afraid.” These words left the mouth of a young woman with long green hair. That hair was tied back in a ponytail and away from her focused eyes. Her outfit consisted of leather: leather pants, a leather top and leather boots. Strapped to her back was a longbow and attached to her sides were three daggers, two for cutting and one for skinning. This was Lysse Fae, a hunter from Summerfield province and Arina’s older sister.
Arina, however, adorned a deep blue dress with starry decorations. Her long aqua hair was tied back like her sister’s, but in two tails rather than one. While it would appear that she was less equipped then her sister, that was only because she kept two sharp tools out of site. Attached to her leg with a scythe used for pulling roots from the ground. Hidden in the folds of her dress was a dagger to be used to protect herself.
While the older sister, the hunter, gave off a confidant air it was not without obvious concern for the smaller girl. After she said that they would be splitting up, Arina’s gaze drooped and focused on the road below.
”Don’t give me that. You do this all the time.. I mean. This is a different forest. And I do worry.. You know what, forget it. You won’t be alone, y’know. They’ve got others coming to gather along with you. And I gave you that whistle right?”
Arina nodded her head up and down without looking her sister in the eyes. She could not forget the instrument her sister gave her during their travels here. It was a small whistle, but one that her sister was assured she could hear from anywhere in this forest.
”One blow, and I’ll coming charging to you. Just.. Just stay safe. You’re smart. Don’t do anything dumb. Anyway, I’ve got to go.”
One hug later and her sister was gone. Arina was left behind to stand at the road and wait for the other to show up. As she waited, every so often she would take in a long breath before sighing. The rest of the time had her double checking that
dahlia haven, Zaid
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Post by dahlia haven on Jan 12, 2018 6:01:38 GMT
so pulls this plug let me breathe After the departure of the green-haired woman, silence was quick to accompany the young woman in her stead. For better or worse, the silence was short-lived as a sudden rustling could be heard somewhere between ten and twenty feet away from her position, near a tree at the edge of the forest. Perhaps it was just the wildlife; what else could it be? It very well could have been the wolves that were in need of a population thinning. It could have been less dramatic, something as mundane as a squirrel. The sound diminished as quick as it was heard. Thud, thud.A new sound came to life, and this time, it did not cease. A constant thud could be heard rhythmically, from the same place the original noise came from. A solid thud that one could feel through their very bounds constantly resounded through the forest and anyone near it, as though some was repeatedly smashing a log, brick, hammer, or some other heavy inanimate object against something else. The mystery would not endure for too long, as the cause of it was in plain sight for the blue haired woman to see. In fact, it should have been almost directly in her line of sight, and anybody else who may have accompanied her in that moment. Thud, thud.There was a man, bald, about mid-forties, repeatedly bashing his head against a tree. His choice of attire may have lead someone to assume he was a peasant, mayhaps a farmer. He had grey, brittle skin that peeled off in thick patches. He smelled of decay and rot, like meat left out in the sun for weeks, and his abdomen plainly displayed signs of bloat. He did not speak, he did not look in the direction of others, he simply maintained his task of slamming his cranium as hard as he could against the coarse tree trunk. He continued to do even as his skull started to fracture, and the tree became slick with brain matter like a fresh coat of paint. And then, footsteps. The stench of death encroached on the scene, almost suffocating and unbearable in nature. From behind the young woman, and any new party that may have been accompanying her at the time. One look rearwards would reveal a sight normally attributed to the least hopeful of nightmares. A young girl, a brunette with baby blue eyes, was leading a small militia of what appeared to be walking corpses. Walking was an entirely subjective description, as some of them were crawling due to a lack of legs, or limping on bone-splintered stumps. Some devoid of heads, some devoid of eyes, some not even human, some abominations a horrific interpretation of abstract art as several lesser races were sewn together, a clamour of groans and agonized whines filled the air within moments.
"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do...~"Their presumed leader was a young woman wearing a black miniskirt, and oversized white shirt that disallowed sight of her hands due to her overzealous sleeves, and an open black cardigan. Like the other members of her party-to-be, she was carrying weapons as well. One of them was gripped in her hand, the other on her back, but they were indistinguishable in the fact they were both grossly sized meat cleavers. The kind that could sever bone like a heated knife through a stick of butter. There was pep in her step as she practically skipped in the direction of the other young woman. "I'm half craaaaaazzyyyyyy all for the love of you!~"on my own i'm finally free |
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Post by Zaid on Jan 13, 2018 8:59:47 GMT
The lower lid of his left eye twitched, as he watched the bald corpse repeatedly bash his head against a tree. But like a horror movie, Zaid was drawn to the morbid display, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene as he was simultaneously repulsed and captivated. "Goddess of Wind, forgive us." He muttered, as the ex-peasant's ashen skin split apart, sinews breaking, and brain tissue smeared against the otherwise natural beauty of the tree's bark.
Then, there was the unholy sensation of déjà vu as a militia of walking dead encroached upon the scene.
"Goddesses." As this sigh escaped parted lips, Zaid pinched the bridge of his nose and dragged his clawed fingers down the length of his face, pulling the skin taut to reveal the bottom whites of his weary eyes. He could have recognised that horrifying stench anywhere, as well as the thundering march of undead Dahlia. The necromancer was a powerful character, that much was certain, and Zaid had taken for granted that such an individual would not be concerned with a quest as mundane as the current one. Despite the murmurings of foul play surrounding the circumstances, when it came down to it, all that had been asked was to gather medicinal ingredients. Zaid would have doubted that such a task would have attracted the likes of a necromancer.
Whilst Dahlia was (unfortunately) recognisable, the blue haired girl remained foreign. Much like his initial impression of the brunette, Zaid was immediately struck by the stranger's pretty appearance. Unlike the brunette, the prophet sensed a purity that radiated off this female. This much was refreshing, to say the least, and a small human part of Zaid hoped that the innocence would remain there, untainted by the likes of… Dahlia.
He eyed Dahlia's meat cleavers warily, the back of his palm automatically resting upon the leather wrapped hilt of his scimitar, claws curled ever so slightly in front. The lizardkin was not clad in clothing, given that such garments would be unnecessary for his race. Across his back and spanning down the length of his limbs was a thick coat of black scales that seemed to absorb any light that fell upon them. Above bestial pointed ears were a pair of ivory horns which's pallor starkly contrasted to the raven black mane that poured down his scalp. Around his neck, Zaid adorned a silver medallion, blood red rubies glimmered in the sunlight, amplifying the presence of the engraved lizard within. A remnant of his reptilian origins.
"Morning, you two." He greeted, if somewhat stiffly, as he advanced towards the females. "Zaid, prophet of Rabba, at your service." As he spoke, he did a slight bow, and immediately felt awkward for performing such a formal gesture.
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