Dungeons Deep

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Emma followed after the group once more. She scolded herself for making herself look weak. She was strong. Just not when it came to her father. Walking next to Colette, she walked in silence, awaiting instruction. She was good with a sword, and very good under stress of battle, but she was still a teenage girl. She was still learning how to mask her emotions, and her father took full advantage of it. It was for both of their good, but it still hurt. "Sorry about that, guys." she said softly, breaking the tension.
 
"Everyone has their problems, there is no need to apologize for them." Trae said trying to cheer up the downtrodden girl. "I mean look at me, I'm an orphan" he said in a joking manner.

It was then that Trae heard a cacophony coming from a short distance away. Half of him wanted to sprint off and go investigate and the other half of him wanted to stay alive. After mulling it over in his head he decided to wait for the group to react, and he would follow their decisions. But he pulled his staff out just in case.
 
Colette smiled, taking Emma's hand into her own. She was a nice girl and Colette hoped they would be able to become friends along the journey, she did not have many friends. "Thank you! And we're headed to-" Before she could continue the raving of a drunken man stopped Emma cold in her tracks. Colette frowned with concern for the younger girl and wondered who this mad man was. She did not have to wonder long for he made it clear that he was Emma's father. And he wamted her back.

Colette was uncomfortable with the situation seeing as it was family drama but she would not allow Emma to be harmed though she assumed the girl could care for herself. She was glad to see Pieter step forward as though he too would interfere if need be. She stood there in mild shock as Emma cooly dismissed her father from her life. The encounter certainly explained why the teen had such a darkness about her. Colette said nothing as the group continued after the scene though her heart ached when Emma finally let her emotions show. She longed to comfort the girl, tell her things were going to be ok but she wanted to be honest. Saying that wouldnt be honest.

She exchanged a quick glance with Pieter, wondering what his thoughts were on these dramatic events. He was very good at schooling his features which Colette admired but it made him a mystery. The drow was trying to lighten the mood and Colette managed a smile. "Orphans arent all bad! Look at how we turned out right?" She said , trying to join in though she felt strained.
 
Emma smiled slightly at Colette. "Yeah, not too bad." she said softly, still not trusting her voice not to quiver. Repeating Colette's earlier gesture, Emma took her hand. She stood up, and they headed back to the group. Squeezing Colette's hand in thanks, she gave her a smile. "Anyway, I believe you were going to tell me where we were going?" she asked, changing the subject.
 
((Trying to make sure this doesn't just kill over and sprout fly larva.))

Before the group noticed, a man rushed passed them out of the blue, screaming at the top of his lungs and flinging his arms around the place as if a whole bunch of things were attacking him from all angles. He bumped into several of them, knocking Emma down and stomping on Colette's foot. Turning in his haste towards Trae, the man let out a wild scream and began to back up furiously.

"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE... don't come near...Nooooo NNOOOOO!!!"

He drew out a dagger and began flinging it in thin air, defending himself from the invisible demon making supper out of his flesh. Backing up towards the forest, he bumped into Pieter and Markus unknowingly, babbling in his horror, "get out of my head... out I say... DEMON WITCH GET OUT! AAAHHHAHAHAHA!"

His knife dropped to the ground and the man stood in the center of the group, staring past Toma and Serei's shoulders, down the path he'd come from. His eyes widened in a maddened stupor and suddenly, without warning, he let out a psychotically hysterical laugh. Dropping to his knees, the man picked up his dagger and continued to laugh as he pointed it directly towards his throat....

((I think I've mentioned everyone who posted... This is not to be anything major, just something among the group to keep this alive until Inquisitor returns. Don't want this to vanish. Oh, just in case you're wondering who this guy is. He's an extra bad guy from the group ahead on the road.))
 
When the stranger suddenly knocked her down, she immediately got up, drawing her sword as she did. She flew at the stranger, swinging her sword as she did. She quickly cut a deep cut in his left arm, causing the dagger to go flying. Trae was going crazy. "Calm down, Trae." she hissed. Her sword was quickly at the mans throat. She backed him up to a tree, and pushed just hard enough to draw blood. "Who are you, and what do you want?" she snarled at the man.
 
Pieter thought he heard yelling ahead. A minute later, a half-crazed man ran into their midst, shouting and moving as if he had forgotten how or where to run. He crashed into Pieter, who stepped back to avoid being knocked down.

"get out of my head... out I say... DEMON WITCH GET OUT! AAAHHHAHAHAHA!"

As the man frantically shouted again, he dropped his knife. Pieter reached down to pick it up, but was too slow; the madman snatched it back up. A demon witch ahead? Pieter wondered how accurate this man's description was. As his mind was both curious and recoiling at the prospect of encountering a demon or a witch, Pieter's body tensed, as though preparing for conflict.

Emma moved quickly, threatening the stranger. Pieter's eyes darted from her to him, then down the path where the demon witch supposedly was.

"Get that dagger away from him!" Pieter shouted to Emma, and hurried down the path. He wasn't sure where or why he was going; his legs seemed to move involuntarily. But he did know that threatening the life of a man trying to commit suicide would accomplish little.

Down a small slope, Pieter found a small carriage with several figures nearby. Some were obviously dead; Pieter knew what death looked like. Others seemed dazed. Two, a man and a woman, seemed locked in combat. Pieter's instincts told him to stop the man before he harmed the woman, but if that was the demon witch...

"Hail!" Pieter called out. He stood a stone's throw from the others and was obviously unarmed.
 
Emma frowned. She thrust her knee up between his legs as hard as she could. The stranger collapsed in a fit of gasps. "Who are you? What do you want?" She repeated, the tip of her sword against his throat.
 
Vivian didn't have a second to her name; she turned her eyes forward after than sharp blow across her face to find an old stained mace rising above her. She attempted to sway the leader's thoughts towards something more pleasant, anything to turn him against crushing her, but his subconsciousness was far too thick in darkness for her to weave through - and there was no time left for such excavating. She closed her eyes and gently looked away.

"Hail!"

All actions seized. The leader's hammer froze above his shoulder. The sword battle against foe and protector repelled from each other to gain distance between them so they could see who was crazy enough to just step into this a circle of frisky strangers as thus to stop the confrontation with such a simple command. What surprised them even more was the fact that it actually worked.

The leader, clearly in the position to speak, dropped his mace to his side and jerked Vivian up by the curve of her neck. Fighting with all her might, she wrestled against his hand as he squeezed and guided her before him. "Dare to step closer and watch the witch crumble into dust."

"That will be the last move you'll ever make, Thief!" The horseman changed his stance and raised his sword towards the leader. If death meets him first, it will be after he kills the leader for threatening his charge's life.
 
Pieter's eyes darted from one man to the next. A witch to be destroyed, a man protecting the which, why would someone protect a witch? Unless she was not truly a witch.

As the sword came down and the leader turned to see, Pieter ran down the slope. Things seemed to go in slow motion. The horseman's sword struck the leader across the collar. The leader fell, then the horseman fell beside him, a knife in his back. The arm that had thrown it, the arm of the one bandit who was not cowering on the ground, was still raised.

Pieter slowed as he snatched up the mace from where it had been dropped, then stopped short. There were two bodies at his feet, another at the carriage, a horse running free, three men in a panic, one raising his sword threateningly at Pieter, and a possible witch beside him.

Fear grew inside Pieter as he hesitantly lifted the unfamiliar weapon and looked between the witch and the bandit. What had he gotten himself into?
 
"Get that dagger away from him!" One man shouted before running down the road.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" The girl who attacked him said, holding her blade against his throat. All the crazy man did was laugh hysterically before throwing himself back from the blade and onto his rump. Without another word, he stood up and hobbled away down the road going the opposite direction.

Markus sighed, seeing that this man was far to loony to worry about. "He's not a threat," he alerted the others. "But we better see what Pieter's gone after."

"Looks like our adventure's starting earlier than we thought!," Trae chuckled as he began to race down the path Pieter had taken. He stopped for a second and doubletake behind him, "Well, come on! Watcha waiting for, guys?"
 
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Vivian froze as her friend charged her abductor. His actions were far too fast for her to register, but what she did notice was the look in his eyes; the pure determination of a suicidal knight. She knew it to be the last look he'll ever give her. All she could do was close her eyes and turn away.

The leader tossed his special catch away in order to defend himself, but the older horseman was far too fast for him. His sharp blade took a chunk of his flesh and a quart of blood for its worth. The leader fell for his abuse and murder of this small, innocent caravan, but his death was not in vain. His right hand man, only called by his strange moniker, Name, finished the horseman with his fine knife throwing skills. Now, raising the sword he held in his right hand, Name turned towards the unknown swordsman who had stepped into their business.

"Seems as if you're next in line," his raspy voice billowed. "You should of left well enough alone, stranger."

Vivian returned her attention to the new atmosphere before her. Her dear friends - dead, her abductor - dead, three of his companions still crying out under the fear she still held against them, and one threat standing before... the stranger who arrived just in time to save her life. She stood to her feet, seeing that the only way out of this situation was to help the one who's helped her.

Vivian raised her soft voice to stand just as firmly as her form, "It would be best for you to consider your own advice, you heathen! Or else..."

"Or else what? You're going to make me sick in the head too?" The beast of a man knocked his knuckles against his temple. "I don't have nightmares for you to sick against me, woman! You can't use your magic on me."
 
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Pieter consciously breathed as he held the mace in both hands and watched the swordsman. The witch didn't seem a danger at the moment.

Death was no stranger to Pieter, but it had always been a passive thing, sort of like Pieter himself. Here he was in a position where his action or his inaction could cause more death, and he hoped it would never happen again.

"Hey!" Pieter shouted, getting the swordsman's attention, then lowered his voice, "Just- calm down. No magic-" he glanced at Vivian, "-and no fighting." Here Pieter felt he should drop the mace, as a sign of goodwill, but it was as if his fingers were welded around it. Subconsciously, Pieter knew this man was not likely to stop because he suggested it, and his body was not willing to be defenseless.

Where were Markus and the others? Pieter hoped they had not chosen to cut across the field instead of taking the path. Could they have abandoned him? Pieter knew his skills were not seen as valuable outside of towns, but he had thought-

The swordsman's attack ripped Pieter from his thoughts. Pieter jerked the mace up to block the swinging sword, but his grip was not entirely firm, and as the mace was pushed back it knocked Pieter's hat from his head. Name grinned as he realized the stranger knew nothing of fighting.
 
Axin sat quietly in an old, cheap tavern in a small village, leaning back in his stool slightly, while occasionally taking a swig of rum from an old flask. Due to the dim lighting, his wide rimmed captains hat, and his large black cloak, his face wasn't very visible, save for two very distinct features. His long, crimson-red mane of hair that nearly touched his shoulders, and his deep, red, piercing eyes, that glowed faintly like hot coals. This particular trait, coupled with a rather intimidating cutlass he carried at his hip, seemed to cause fellow bar goers and other ruffians and strangers, to keep a safe distance from him, trying their best not to make eye contact, lest they offend him.

However, the young pirate captain paid no mind to the nervous customers around him, and actually seemed to be lost in thought, gazing patiently into a strangely fluctuating flame on a nearby candle, almost as if he was looking for something...

((Will this do? If my starting post is unsatisfactory, I'll change it, if need be...))
 
((Just an FYI, Markus, Trae, Name, and the three brainwashed bandits are all NPC's. Everyone has rights to them. So, let's move this scene and go on.

Hazard, if you like, you can grab a couple of those NPC's and move them, so you can participate in this scene. That's fine and dandy with me. Makes it easier on me too. :3 ))
"Hey!" The stranger caught both Vivian and the last bandit's attention, which was quite odd for her to understand for his tone of voice did not hold any authority above them. "Just- calm down. No magic-" he glanced at her with reserved patience, "-and no fighting." Again, taken back, Vivian was amazed that this man truly believed that a peaceful confrontation between the group was actually possible.

"No...what? This man just attacked my carriage, killed my driver and now my guard, and you expect me to..."

Obviously, Name didn't care about what anyone else was saying. Seeing an opportunity to strike while the stranger was preoccupied by the witch, he raised his sword and whipped it before the man, knocking the mace out of his weak hands and the pathetic helmet from his head. Now, his face was revealed - mature, but not weathered. Calm and collected, but not with years of death shrouding it with stress. This hero of the road was not a warrior, nor a swordsman. In fact, he didn't look like he's been in the sun long enough to tan.

Name chuckled harshly before Pieter, "This will be far too easy. Come on, mate! Where's the sport in it? If ya gonna die for the lady, why not put your back into it, so I'm not so bored!" Name raised his sword again and charged, aiming at Pieter's chest.

Vivian, still shocked in the reality of the man attempting to save both their hides, tried and tried with all her might to dig into their abductor's mind, to find something she could use against him. But, as he'd mentioned, this man held nothing within to torment him with; he held no fears. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do. Focusing on the three other bandits still balled up on the ground against their own personal demons, she pushed against their weak minds with a new confidence, an awakening of their egos and inner strengths. She was not a fighter, but they were. She held no weapons, but they did. She gave their monsters a new face - the face of Name. She gave them a renewed spirit of being a hero, a fighter worthy of honor, and a purpose to serve and protect the innocent ones facing the giant.

Without warning, one of the brainwashed bandits stood up strong and tall, pulling his blade from its home as he ran towards Name. With a maddening warcry, he jumped before the stranger and raised his sword to block the other. With a loud clash, Name was thrown back from the block, eyes wide with shock, "What in the hell do ya think ya doing, Monty? He's my fight, not yours!"

******

Markus ran down the road and stopped short when he heard Pieter's voice rise from the air. He tried to stop his friends and motioned for them to hide as well. "There's some sort of problem he's run into," he mumbled to the others as they all watched.

Trae immediately searched for anything on him he could use as a weapon, "We can't just sit here and watch this. We've got to help him."

"Ya, your right... We can be a distraction or something." Markus turned behind him to give the others his eyes. "If you have some fight in you, then let's get in there and do what we can to get Pieter and whoever else in need, out of there."
 
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Pieter took a step back as Name attacked. The tailor's foot landed at an awkward angle on a loose stone. He stumbled slightly, then quickly sat on the ground, partly to regain balance and partly to duck under Name's sword.

Now Pieter could not simply run away. He grabbed his hat and put it on. It may be an odd thing to do in the heat of battle, but Pieter the way Pieter's mind worked, defending himself from Name was something he wasn't prepared for and probably wouldn't succeed in, but putting his hat back on his head was also something that should be done and something he was equipped for.

A man jumped in front of Pieter, guarding him. At first Pieter thought it might be Markus. But no, it was one of the men who had been near the carriage.

"What in the hell do ya think ya doing, Monty? He's my fight, not yours!" Was one of the swordsman's own allies protecting the tailor? Pieter hoped to thank him after this was over.

As Name and Monty engaged in combat, two more joined in against Name. Meanwhile, Markus led the others down the slope and in view of the situation. "Pieter! Are you hurt?" Markus cried.

Pieter hesitated, then shook his head and stood. His three protectors now had Name backed against the carriage. Name was fighting defensively, frustrated and furious that his friends would turn against him. "I'll get you for this, witch!" he cried. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that others had come. "That's right," he shouted, "she's a witch!"
 
The bandit shouted out 'witch' like it was a curse. She wasn't a damnation, just a magic user; but his assumptions of her came out as if she was evil incarnate walking the earth. Vivian cringed, "Magic is not a sin, unless it's against you, right? Ah, I see now!"

The Drow laughed, "Really, he should get out more. Magic is everywhere these days." With a unseen swoop of his hand, Trae had released a handful of tiny daggers towards Name, each one bypassing the other fighters around him to tack into his skin painfully; each one holding a drop of an interesting concoction capable of knocking out a large wilder beast.

There were other people arriving now, jumping in to help out. Vivian noticed that one of them called the stranger that was helping her, Pieter; obviously friends of his. Vivian wasn't sure if that was a good thing for her or not, but at the moment she was trying to avoid the new distractions and focus on the three men she was twisting with her skills. Illusions didn't require a lot of energy, but when one attempts to twist another's subconscious with illusions of their own fears - that takes lots of effort. Even more so when managing three at a time.

Concentrating became extremely difficult when the bandit began to fight against his own men under her spell. Each blow they took from him, she felt. Each slice of flesh given by his blade, she felt their stings. She released one or two of the men just to catch her breath, but it was no use when the larger brute took advantage of it.

Trae made his way around the chaos, casually walking towards Vivian while holding his monk robe off the ground. Vivian kept her stance tall, but it was becoming quite clear to all there that she was not as strong as she seemed to be. Her head was beginning to wobble unbalanced like her feet.

"Now, dear lady, since calling you by any other name just doesn't make any sense, are you okay?" He extended his hand towards her arm to hold her steady without her asking.

Vivian accepted the help without retort; shaking her head, "They attacked my caravan... and killed my friends..."
 
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As Name fought off his friends, two seemed to break from a haze and stop fighting altogether. Name began to overpower the remainder, but Markus stepped in to help hold him off. Pieter was beginning to understand that this lady was no more evil than the other ladies who had joined their group, and that the men must be ruffians of some sort. Still, Pieter did not wish to see any more death here. If these men had killed the lady's friends, they may kill his own as well.

"Trae," Pieter said in an urgent whisper, "take her behind those boulders to the right." He gave the dark elf a slight push to the arm as a means of encouragement, then waved his hand, gesturing for the others to continue down the road.

Trae, his hand already around Vivian's arm, gently pulled her toward the rocks, where she would be out of the ruffians' sight.

The two men Vivian had already released seemed to be righting themselves to aid Name. Without pausing to think of the consequences, Pieter snatched a stone from the ground and threw it at the further of the two. It grazed his shoulder, but got his attention. Unfortunately, the other was rejoining Name. Fortunately, Name was slowing and seemed to be bleeding from his wrist. Markus was a skilled swordsman.

The man Pieter had attracted headed for the tailor; Pieter turned and ran down the road. The man followed, but only a short distance before deciding it wasn't worth the trouble. Meanwhile, Markus had seen the others were leaving him and managed to detach himself from Name, whose wound had made him decide a chase would be unprofitable, whilst the other two fought. He caught up with Pieter.

"Looks like they're more interested in the carriage than in us," Markus commented as he silently counted the others, "where are Trae and-" Pieter pointed to the boulders. Trae saw that they were regrouping further along the road. He turned to Vivian. "Will you come with us?" Trae asked.
 
Vivian fought against the monk as he obeyed the orders Pieter whispered. "No, I must see those men to hold them back... I can't see them to help your friends..." but it was quite clear that they had another plan in mind. Her eyes fell upon her fallen friends, wishing there was some way to care for them properly for all they've attempted to do for her. Tears did not fall; there was no time for them. The monk, Trae he was called, guided her swiftly further down the road until they reached a set of rocks standing back off the road within the woods surrounding them. Settling down, Vivian took a moment to rest, releasing the last man reluctantly and silently mumbling mantras of peace and strength to regain her energy. Her hand softly pressed against the folds of her cloak, finding the hidden item still bulging against her.

Soon, the rest of the group began to filter past the overturned carriage, making their way down the road. Name watched them leave, shaking his head with a smirk. "We'll see each other again, Witch; you and your new friends. I'll see to that." With that personal pledge, he turned to his crew, now his responsibility, and hurried them along to finish their pickings so they can head out. They had a nice black market it Tress just waiting to purchase whatever they find worth selling.

When the dark elf asked Vivian about going with him and his friends, she was reluctant to say yes. The more people she's involved with, the more danger they will be in. She's not for sure if the attack on her and her friends was coincidence or a planned set up, but taking a chance on others dying was frightening to her. Then again, her dying out in the woods alone and someone taking what she possessed was far worse.

She gave Trae a weary smile, "Well, I guess it's best than traveling alone. So, yes...if it's okay with your friends."
 
The party traveled along the road until they reached the next town. As they passed through the sparsely-populated streets, an old man with an unkempt beard spotted them from a pottery stall.

"Markus?" the old man questioned, "Markus, is that you?" Suddenly, the stranger jumped up and rushed toward the travelers, flinging his arms about their leader.

"Hello, Uncle Denzer," Markus said sheepishly.
"I thought you were dead!" the relative exclaimed.
Markus glanced back at the others. "I'll catch up with you," he said, implying the two of them should be left alone, "we can meet at the tavern later."

Pieter nodded and made his way to the tavern, having nowhere else to stop on the way. Some of the others melted into the crowd. Perhaps they had had enough of traveling, or perhaps they hoped to make a purchase or see some sights (not that there were likely to be many in this town) before regrouping.
 
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