| Fable |

[Mobley Eats]

Grimm | Location: Tavern | Interaction: Belyth @Chile , Nosy Ass Dwarf (Murtog) @Elle Joyner , and Group

​

Grimm had experienced many horrible days. So many. And yet, something about this one managed to establish a high rank on his list of "Real Life Fuel for Future Nightmares". But, then again, perhaps he could garner a glimpse of positives from the thought--an night of humiliated recollections would be a far better alternative to the visions currently hacking away at his body clock.

Regardless, that wasn't the reality of the situation. What was the reality came in the form of a pair of arms scooping him up from the dirt. Grimm blinked in surprise. Once. Several times more. And found himself slackening from the stranger's speedy assistance, trailing along behind him on numb feet. Mithras followed, her cackles and squawks still ringing loudly in his ears. "What a twist! You plunder into the mud, yet garner the fancy of a fellow elven man! What a tale to spin~."

Your rations for today will be halved, winged Satan, Grimm grumbled. His lips almost pursed in displeasure when she laughed again, only to remember the slop dribbling from his visage. Gods. Would he ever redeem a morsel of dignity after this.

Likely not.

As the stranger seated him and harked out at some passing barmaiden, Grimm finally tuned back into the newcomer, trying to sort out what to make of him. He seemed helpful, wonderfully so. And yet, the haste and fire of his tone directed to the woman was startling. Grimm gripped his mask close to his chest, an unconscious shield between them. Of course, the hold didn't last long when he started ridding Grimm's hands of mud.

...

Heat rushed to Grimm's head, so much so that the red-splotches were momentarily camouflaged. What was the meaning of this? Why did this elven man feel the need to treat him so tenderly? Sweat rolling down his neck by the buckets, Grimm merely nodded in thanks for the handkerchief and wiped away the rest of the mess. A few stray streaks remained but, for the most part, he looked as good as new. Still blushing furiously, but good enough.

At first, he parted his lips to thank the man, "..." Then snapped his mouth shut again. By Pip, was he perhaps short a marble today? Of course he couldn't vocalize that, let alone anything. Sheepishly, Grimm reached out with both hands to grip one of his, giving it a firm shake of gratitude, then released him quickly, as if he had touched a hot stove. Just as Grimm returned his handkerchief, the others returned and his heart sank as they circled around the boy they saved...

No. He had no right to use such a term. He didn't seem saved in the slightest.

A few words reached his ears; from what he gathered, the young lad was in dire need of medical attention. Perhaps of the magical kind--

"'Scuze the intrusion, boyos. Murtog's the name. Don't mean no interruption… Just not every day these old eyes chance to see a Pact Elf. That is… If I'm not mistaken? Otherwise, I'm afraid your friend here's got a mad case of Sphinx Pox… Where you folks hail from, Lad?"

...Oh dear.

Grimm swallowed and immediately diverted his gaze from Murtog's, focusing desperately on the boy. He was not in the right mind space to entertain a dwarven man's terrifyingly accurate deductions. Definitely not. The sweat that had been collecting on his neck now migrated to his palms as he stood. He tossed out a polite nod to Murtog, then another to Belyth, though his gaze lasted a tad longer to express his gratitude again, then skittered around the dwarf to approach the group. He knelt down, gloved hand cautiously reaching out to the boy's forehead, only to hesitate and pull away. He seemed pale to a worrisome degree and with enough concentration, Grimm picked up faintly labored breathing.

Gods... was it his chest? Could he not properly breathe?

Wide-eyed, he looked to the others while doing a quickly cupping both hands around his throat, insinuating a choking gesture, then beat on his chest. They needed to clear something up. He had no clue what was really threatening the boy's life, but he knew just as much as anyone with common sense that he needed air in his lungs.

 

[Toogee]

Perhaps the lack of blood sugar clouded his initial analysis of the situation, but something was up with these knights. From his past escapades inside Fortress Mulgrave, Leonard recognized the armor as that of the royal guard: the Aegis knights. The only reason they had for being around this part of the city was for matters concerning the king or queen. Killing monsters in the city outskirts was a job for lesser knights…of which the scene was suspiciously absent of. There was a bit more to this story than riled-up beasts.

The feline's ears caught wind of the whispers between the dwarf and his fellow knight. It seemed they took an interest in bird elf Grimm. Though it was curious how such a klutzy elf could exist, it was never a good thing if one drew the attention of the royal guard. This inevitably led to jail time and death sentences. Leonard did not desire the attention, and not just for Piper's sake. The cat had left a few things inside the fortress, things he intended to grab before departing the area. The last thing he needed was for all the guards to be on high alert.

Leonard's concentration broke upon Piper's shrill whistle. She promised jerky, which was better than nothing. He still recalled the time he had fresh pheasant and wondered if he would ever taste it again. He followed Piper and Agnar into the tavern.

The situation was not improving inside. Despite their efforts, the boy was still dying. Piper abandoned Aganr's wounds (and Leonard's jerky) to pray for the boy's recovery. To Leonard, if your last hop to undo destiny was the whims of an imaginary being, all was lost. Meanwhile, Grimm managed to pull away from the curious knights and appeared to be doing some medical procedure on the boy. Being a cat, all Leonard could do was prowl around the scene and wait.

 

[WingWong]

Sienna Kadmir

Sienna's brow furrowed as a barrage of arrows launched overhead and embedded themselves into the winged fiends. At least that was done with.


She peered out from the safety of the underhang of the tavern's door, only just safe from the pouring rain. She spotted the guards, eyes sliding over the armor. Her spine threatened to snap violently straight up, but she refrained, a tightly gritted jaw the only sign of wariness on her otherwise indifferent expression.


Aegis Knights. Of course. Because the gods could not decide to be merciful today.


Her gaze flickered to the bird man as he slipped away, making his way towards the knights in question with smooth strides. She barely had time to raise an eyebrow before she saw him topple forward and sink into the mud with a slick squelch.


A soft wheeze escaped her before she managed to slap a hand over her mouth, biting her lip as the bird atop his shoulder echoed her own sentiments. She was not terribly inclined to help, and she was even less so as some of the others helped the masked man to his feet.


The smile slid off easily as the knights split apart, and Declan gestured for them to follow him inside.


She stayed towards the back of the pack, her hand straying to the bag at her side. The bag that contained the box that had clicked open when they'd slid the boy from underneath the cart.


Of all people to give a box like that, why her?


She stepped inside at last, only to see the father at his unconscious son's side. She stops, watching from afar, listening, as the knight searches his pockets for a healing draught to find none. As the father pleads with them.


As she feels an odd warmth growing from the side her bag rested on, and then slowly fill her chest. There was a rustle and a clink, and Sienna's gaze flicked to the bag in question.


Why her?


This was a child, though. A child whose life had hardly begun. If there was any point such a burden of a box were to be used, it would be now.


Of all people to give such a box….


Quietly and off to the side of the group, she slides the box from her bag. She huddles near it, pulling her cloak to obscure it from view, as she opens the lid with a soft creak of wood, where before it had been tightly sealed. She was faced with vials, and a decision to make. She swiped a hand over her face before lifting the vial she wanted from it. Then she snapped the box closed and shoved it back into her bag. With any luck, no one took much notice of her.


"I have a draught," she speaks up, stepping near the son and his father at last. She slides closer to the boy, vial in hand. "It is old, but better than nothing I'm sure."

Gods above, let this potion of superior healing be enough...

 

[Elle Joyner]

An expression of pure desperation crosses the face of the boy's father, and through tears that leave streaks in his mud splattered cheeks and beard, he grips his son's hand until his own fingers turn white. His eyes don't move from Tully's face, even as both Grimm and Piper kneel down beside him. It isn't until the elvish begins to flow from the bard's lips that he looks up, a pained glimmer crossing his features. It's fairly apparent he was hoping for something more, but he bows his head, nevertheless, and a soft 'Thank you' leaves his lips in a weary whisper.

Then, suddenly, there is more movement and a third figure kneels beside Tully. Looking up, the older man's eyes widen at the offered bottle. There is more than gratitude behind his gaze - there is also recognition. He is not unfamiliar with the glimmering red liquid inside, "By the Gods... That's..."

"Old, my dwarven posterior. Looks fresh as a sunrise, Lass. Where'd ye get your hands on such a marvel?" There is no accusation in Murtog's tone, as he sidles up alongside his companions, but the three exchange a glance among themselves, even as Tully's father is in the process of uncapping the draught, administering it with slightly shaky hands.

For a moment, there is silence, then with a gasp, Tully's body jolts, and breath returns in a great gulp. The boys eyes blink open, dark orbs taking in the throng of people gathered around him, "Wh--what happened? Papa?"

"...You're alright now, Tull. You're alright." With a choking sob, his father scoops him up, into his arms, "Thank you. Thank you..." He repeats, eyes moving to Sienna with warm, fresh tears streaming.

"Yes, indeed. Thank you." Declan offers, his eyes shifting between those gathered, "Quite fortuitous, you lot being here, now. Mulgrave's glad to have you." Looking to Murtog and Friedmont, he clears his throat and his voice drops deeper, "...Though I'd warn you... Not all folks in these parts are terribly keen on magic users." Holding a hand up, cautiously, he shakes his head, "When you've worked the Aegis long enough, you learn to recognize the signs in a battle like the one out on the road, there. You'll find no contention with me and mine, but travel cautious from here on out... There's plenty would take advantage, or worse yet, take offense."

"Speaking off..." Murtog begins, turning his head to glance behind him, "...Can anyone account for your half-elven friend? Seems he's gone missing, at present."

And indeed, it appears that in all of the chaos of Tully's decline and subsequent recovery, your party member Belyth has vanished from sight.

"...I'll bet anything it's those damn Seekers, again. They've been camping out in these parts since the weather turned, no doubt hoping for these sorts of messes to give them new merchandise." A frown crosses Friedmont's lips, as he rubs his jaw, "Most folk, don't dare trying to roads in this kind of rain. Surprised you were even trying it with a mule cart."

"...Not much choice." Tully's father answers, with a frown of his own, "Caverton's been overrun. Lucien's sent Lawmen into the village... or so they claim. Raising all manner of hell about the place. Take all they can, and when you've got nothin' left to give, they make an example of you. Worse yet, started conscripting boys like Tully here into their army. We ran, as soon as we got the opportunity to. I'll not have my boy dragged into this mess. King's men or not..."

"...Doesn't sound like something King Lucien would be behind." Declan continues, a brow pitched in thought, "Caverton you said, Mister...?"

"Grainger. Bart Grainger. And I did, aye. Was on my way to Mulgrave to seek aid from his majesty, but with our cart out of commission and those damnable creatures everywhere, we'd never make it without escort of some sort..."

"My men and I... we've been called to the Grave Road - seems shipments from Mulgrave are fallin' into the wrong hands. Not just crops and wares, mind, but medical supplies and weapons. Got a half ton of black powder that's gone unaccounted for, and in the hands of those scoundrels, there's nothing good coming. Trouble is, you won't find much help coming from Mulgrave, otherwise... Didn't hear it from me, but there's not many ascribe to the old code, these days."

"You could wait here..." Friedmont offers, "See if the weather clears?"

"Even if it cleared up, by the time we arrived, if we took the main roads, alone? Likely the Lawmen will have moved on to the next village..."

"I told you, Papa... We should've stayed. Done something..." Tully hisses, shaking his head, "Fought back. Now we're good as done for..."

"Maybe not..." Murtog shrugs, and a grin splits from beneath his beard, "This lot held their own fair enough... Two harpies in this murk. Bet my beard they'd hold their weight as escorts. Course... that's bettin' they're the sort who'd give of their own time like that. Might be a reward in it, turns out these Lawmen aren't King Lucien's men, after all..."

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TAGS || @Mobley Eats, @KatSea, @DarinValore, @CloudyBlueDay, @WingWong, @Toogee

 

[Toogee]

Leonard was wondering what strong liquid was given to the boy to make him rise from the dead. He bet it would be a great morning pick-me-up. More importantly, it probably tasted good and would be far more fulfilling than the emptiness that currently filled his stomach. His wandering eyes caught sight of a mouse across the room. Not his own mouse, but a different, larger one. He could taste its meat upon his tongue, but alas, there was too much movement. Several people were moving between him and his prey, causing the mouse to flee.

"If this keeps up, your luck will run out with my patience, DinDin," Leonard told his mouse companion.

Leonard's attention then turned to Piper. With the boy healed, surely she had nothing better to do than to tend to his own needs. The cat went up to where Piper was crouched near the boy and began furiously rubbing his face into her hip and began purring loudly.

"OK, the magic sky god somehow missed all of your sin and answered your prayers. Congratulations, you're a saint. Now make like an ignorant deity and do my bidding. FEED ME. NOW."

 

[KatSea]

Piper felt her heart sink as the father thanked her for her prayer. She felt hollow, any magic that once ran through her fingertips run dry. The fight had drained her, particularly healing her new found team members in their futile attempt to kill the harpies. She did not regret what she had done out in the field, but almost wondered if she should have saved a sliver of her magic for someone more precious than she could put into words. A child, someone's son, someone's one true love in life. Piper had seen it constantly through the faces of the children she'd encounter with every city she trudged through, a hopefulness and sweet, naive nature that had long died out in adults. There was magic there, a magic that was precious and fleeting and deserved to be felt in the world. She could feel the young boy's own flame begin to flicker out, and for a brief, brief moment, Piper wanted to excuse herself to withhold a scream. No. Her goddess was a kind one, she would provide comfort no matter the result. In life and in death, she knew the music would continue, even if it meant a minor key being played for a while. She exhaled, slow and calculated.

The child is not even my own, I do not even know his nature, then why do I feel I am mourning him before he is gone? The others seem to be fine, and I know Agnar is certainly one to hold his own...perhaps I should adopt his strength too. Even if my arms are less than fit for that task.

Piper's head lifted as there was a sudden uproar in noise, warmth flooding her chest painfully as hope crawled in her diaphragm. The boy jolted back to life, calling for his father as confusion settled in. Bowing her head as she contained the tremors in her shoulders, she whispered "Many thanks to you, goddess of my life, for what you have done. I will continue to play for you as long as I live." It had been a miracle in itself that Piper did not express any more emotion, besides the signature grin that began to pull at the corners of her lips. The Piper she felt comfortable as was back before she knew it, the cheeriness nearly blinding to her own senses.

The cheeriness didn't last long, however, realizing that the two men could...easily tell they were magic users. Goddess...damn it all... Piper resisted the urge to flinch, to lie her ass off and claim that the only magic she could conjure was in the bedroom- Right. Not right now. Maybe later though~ A few of those guardsmen were certainly a delight to look at...

Right. Tully. Bart. Helping them out. Right, right, that was more important at the moment, wasn't it? Well, importance was relative... Piper discreetly flicked her fingers against her wrist to knock herself out of her thoughts. Remember, she didn't have to be Piper, the bawdy bard. No no, she intended to be Piper the valiant! Piper, the brave little-

And she forgot to feed Leonard. Shit. Feeling the cat purring into her hip, she raised her hand to gingerly scratch the kitty behind his ears. "I'll be right with you, mister." She vowed, continuing to scratch at his scruff, hoping this would at least distract him until she was finished talking with the knights. "I'm not sure where he went..." She finally admitted, shrugging. "I think he mentioned looking for a lost love. I travelled with him for a little while, so I'm not too surprised he ran off..." Brow pinching, her eyes flickered up to Bart, a light smile on her lips. "If...if you need a couple of hooligans to help you get to your destination, I know i would be more than happy to help out. Consider it an adventure, you know?"

As much as I want my wealth back...and to get back to my mother...I don't think it would be in my best interest to let these two venture on their own, especially if something bad were to happen to them again. Besides...this might prove to be good. Hell...if this means I can still find some coin on the way through, then maybe I don't even need to get back what is mine. As much as I want them back...It's okay, though. They need help, don't they? Might as well give it to them so they don't lose what lives they do have.

"But I do think we should get some rest before we go. Need to make sure your protectors are in tip top shape~ That..." Her eyes flickered down to Leonard, using her pinkie to massage the top of his head. "And he's gonna mew at me until I give him what he wants-"

 

[Elle Joyner]

Gratitude is not lost on the older man's face, as Piper agrees to lend aid. Swiftly enough, it is decided that a bit of rest will be more than beneficial to the journey. Bart, insistent as a father whose son had just been rescued, buys a meal and as those in the tavern who were curious enough to gawk return to their own business, tables are pushed together and a small feast is brought forth. Very small… consisting only of watery root vegetables in broth and slightly stale bread. Eventually, the young woman, boy and half orc man return from burying the harpies.

Following the meal, you notice suddenly the conversation seems remarkably loud and realize that's because you're yelling. For a second or two you wonder to yourselves why… and then it occurs to you that the rain made it necessary. In confirmation, a patron near the windows declares the storm has passed.

Steadily, like water rushing down a hill, patrons begin to flood out of the building. Business must resume. Lives must continue. Journeys must renew.

Of your party, the young boy declares he's off to continue his pilgrimage, 'Lives to see, faces to save!' He declared with a triumphant, albeit dopey smile. Agnar, too, determines that it's time to depart… these words he offers Piper, privately, 'Not many places more I can look… but I'll find what I need. Soon as I do that, I'll come find you in Cain'loren. Promise. Take care of yourself, and feed that damn cat…'

No word comes about the odd magic user who vanished earlier…

Eventually, you retire to rest and recover. Morning dawns promptly the following day and leaving your rooms you join Bart and his son downstairs. After a quick meal, you set out on your journey, the once mud sodden roads caked and cracked in the early morning sunshine. It's a several hour long journey, made easier by the turn in weather, but ultimately the rain has still taken its toll and several times you find yourselves waylayed from the main path. It's well into the afternoon by the time you see the three tiered city of Mulgrave coming into view along the horizon. She shimmers in the distance, hours away yet, a massive beacon standing erect amidst the stony fields of dry plains. To her east, carved like a wound in the landscape, the Grave Road hooks and curves, weaving into the thick underbelly of the Teldavi swamps. Rising up behind the massive city, beyond the swamplands, great grey mountains vanish into clouds. The air takes on a foul, earthy odor, tainted by a western wind, bringing in the scent of the bogs.

A road curves down into the valley, leading towards the city. As you begin to wind your way down, a glint of light catches your eyes, briefly, in the distance. Roughly five-hundred feet from where you've paused, a cart sits in the road and beside it, the scene of a scuffle. A woman, dark hair dancing in the wind, stands central to a ring of five men, their eyes like hungry wolves as they seem to twist between fool-hearted determination and fear. Two men lay in the dirt a short distance away. In her hand the woman brandishes a weapon, her stance wide… Ready...

But outnumbered.

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TAGS || @Mobley Eats, @KatSea, @DarinValore, @Effervescent,
@WingWong, @Toogee

 

[Effervescent]

Mulgrave roads were naturally treacherous to traverse as they tended to soften and become flooded with one simple rainstorm. The morning sun helped to alleviate the muddy roads, at least where the sun could catch it more directly. Anhlan's trek was slow as she carefully maneuvered the cart down the road towards the city, and it gave her plenty of time to notice the two men standing right in the middle where the treeline opened up to a field.

The men waited patiently, the shorter one carrying a grin in an attempt to look welcoming. They both carried blades at their sides openly. Anhlan slowly pulled on the reins, and the horse slowed before the two. The shorter man took a hold on the bridle and stroked the horse's snout.

"Headed to Mulgrave?" he asked. The larger man behind him stood stalwart, arms crossed and eyes trailing over the covered cart.

"I am," she replied simply.

"Give us your coin and we'll let you pass on, then," he said as his grin widened to reveal a set of yellowed, crooked teeth. He was missing his left incisor.

"I'm afraid you're robbing in the wrong direction," she said, and motioned to the back of her covered cart. "I'm a merchant. I have to sell my wares to make coin."

"Told you," the larger one said, bearded chin lifting as he laughed. The shorter man's smile quickly faded.

"You'd be stupid to travel without coin," he spat, and took his blade to the tethers that hooked the cart to the horse. "We'll be taking this, then."

Anhlan kept her grip on the reins and stood slowly. "That is not yours to take," she said.

"You'll sit back down," the shorter man demanded as he pointed his dagger up to her, and moved to cut the reins. Anhlan stepped off of the cart, immediately met with the larger man brandishing his axe and holding a hand out.

"Things don't have to get hostile," the larger man said. Anhlan kept one hand on the cart, the other gripping the reins until she felt them slacken. "You can find a way to sell your wares without the horse."

"That horse is not yours to take," she repeated more forcefully. "Walk away."

The shorter man paid her no mind, and as he began guiding the horse away from the cart, Anhlan reached into the cart under the bench, quickly producing a sword with a hilt of gold and shimmering white steel. The larger man made no other attempt at negotiation and moved in for a takeover as soon as the gleaming weapon was produced. Their blades met, and in the commotion the horse was spooked and reared sending the shorter man into the dirt.

A swift parry allowed the larger man to be open for a blow, one Anhlan struck in a quick thrust. As the man fell, she charged towards the other only to find him trampled and incapacitated by the horse that fought against the last tethers that hooked it to the cart.

From the woods she heard the brandishing of steel and was met with the threatening gazes of five other men slowly approaching the cart. Anhlan kept her sword raised, ready for the next attack.

 

[Toogee]

Leonard perked up when the father Bart offered to buy their party a meal. Finally! Whatever god Piper was praying to would reward her brief period of piety with mana from heaven. The cat could almost smell the food he imagined would come his way. Fresh fish, roasted lamb that fell off the bone. The only way his imagined feast could be better was if it was sprinkled with catnip.


They were given vegetable water and stale bread.


If he had less restraint, Leonard would have thrown his arms up in incredulity. There was not even so much as a single sardine for him to partake in. Curse the gods! He looked to Piper to do something about this injustice. There was no amount of pinkie petting that was going to fix this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------


It was fortuitous that their next destination was the capital kingdom of Mulgrave. It had been quite some time since the feline wandered its streets. Aside from the homecoming, Leonard had left a bit of a treasure trove within Fortress Mulgrave. He would have to find a way to sneak back in without anyone noticing. They weren't exactly expecting him to return so soon…or ever.


While Leonard had a desire to go, that desire was not present at the crack of dawn. The cat begrudgingly followed Piper into the wagon, knowing full well that he'd be back to sleep almost immediately. And sleep he did! For the entire trip, the cat slept on Piper's lap, mewing annoyingly any time she tried to move. He had no cares in the world and was completely oblivious to the conflict happening outside the cart.

 

[KatSea]

Piper regretted leaving home the moment Agnar pulled her aside, informing her that he had elsewhere to go in his search. It didn't feel in character for her to stay away as he was suffering in his own right, and desperately she wished to reach out to help him, to assist him, to abandon the party she had found all together. Several of them had left in the night, she found the next morning, and frustration scorched at her eyes. Her mother left her a troubling note. She was alone in her quest. She was alone with a stranger and her cat as she attempted to help a child. This was not ideal. She wanted to rush home, to find out what happened with her mother. She never should have left. She never should have spat at her future spouse. But she damn well needed the remainder of her items. Her gold that she had accumulated throughout the years. Now she was alone in Mulgrave, despair rippling through her. She clenched her teeth, wanting to remain firmly planted in the bed she had rented for the night. Her fingers reached blindly for her cat, massaging between his ears as she tried to swallow whatever frustration boiled through her veins. She was fucking stupid, as she always had been, but now it came with a much heavier price than she could have hoped for.

She just wished she could have told Agnar the truth before he left. How much he and his own name meant to her. She should have gone with him, or pled for him to stay for the day, just long enough to get Tully to safety. But now he was gone, and Piper found herself missing her friend once more.

She trudged from the bed much later than she would have liked. She didn't bother to eat, rather making her way to the cart where she settled, cat in lap and crossbow by her side. her thumb drew along his back absentmindedly, eyes threatening to close. She had never grown this silent since the rowdy night she shared with curly horned tiefling. What could she say? She beat him in a fiddle contest and things escalated from there. She bet that damn golden fiddle was fake, too. It didn't matter. She would find her possessions sooner or later. It would be okay. She'd see Agnar in Cain'loren. She would get all of her items. And when she got home to see him, her world would be right side up again.

But why does it feel like I'm not gonna get to see that.

Inhaling sharply, Piper twisted her torso towards the direction of her adventure pack, scrambling through it until she collected parchment and a vial of ink. Her first thought was to write to her mother. There was no method of quick communication, and for all she knew, she could be in a lot more trouble than sending her a letter was worth. Would she even be able to get the message? There was no way she knew where Agnar was going, so she couldn't exactly send him a letter. This was...frustrating, to say the least, and again she wished she hadn't stepped away from home. She wished she had stayed. Adventuring wasn't exactly worth it if she hadn't someone to come home to.

You just had to get yourself into trouble. You just had to go and get into trouble while I wasn't fucking around. What do you mean I might not even get to see you again? Why didn't you give me this grievous warning before I left? And why didn't you fucking tell me about...Coriel before. You wonder where I get all my bad fucking influences from...alright. Woman. It's a good thing I love you otherwise I wouldn't be writing you back...

Piper flattened the parchment against the edge of the cart, unsure of how to start her letter. Her muscles began to ache as she remained twisted, refusing to move Leonard out of her lap. She had her own code and moralities, and removing the cat was the number one sin on that godforsaken list. Managing to get semi-comfortable, she began to scrape the quill along the parchment, scribbling whatever thought came to mind. It was difficult to form her thoughts at first, but it slowly came to fruition, her frustration swept from her shoulders by the stroke of her quill..

Her head peeked up, however, at the light sounds of a commotion. Peeking out of the cart into the open, she was greeted by a rather unpleasant sight. One woman surrounded by five other men with weapons at the ready.

"Shit." She cursed, plucking her lute from her back in preparation. She bit her lip as one idea came to mind, and she realized it would require some time and expend her energy. If the spell ended up getting her in trouble too, and it ended up failing, it would be no good. Peeking back out at the crowd, a devious smile pulled at her lips. With a gentle pluck of the e string, a light green hand appeared before her. Giving it a light high five, she guided it, very cautiously, before it found its purchase at the behind of the largest fighter. The ghostly grin fingers reached into the abyss below, pulling as hard as it could once it caught its target.

 

[Mobley Eats]

Grimm | Location: Onward to Mulgrave | Interaction: Piper (tentatively) & Bandits @KatSea

​

Sleep didn't come for Grimm.

Same as the night before, something... odd meddled with his trance. Even as his posture emitted the utmost zen and relaxation, nothing about the toiling ocean storm within his mind spoke of peace. It screamed of distress. Mystery. And above all else--consequence.

Thus explaining the dragging of his feet as the elf emerged from his abode, raven mask in place and Mithras perched on his shoulder. His feathered companion had sensed the fatigue radiating from him, but that didn't stop her from pecking the side of his hood every handful of seconds, demanding an explanation from him.

"You've forgotten how to rest now, hm? Shame, shame! Shame I say! Toll the bell!"

If only that were the case... Grimm held in a sigh and found himself incapable of battling wits with Mithras. Rather, he dedicated one of his few strips of awareness towards seeking out his newly made companions from last night... And realized that many of them were missing. Odd. From a initial sweep of the tavern, he'd only taken note of the lively bard (perhaps it was his sleep deprivation playing tricks of the eye, but she seemed... discouraged, in a way, combating what he assumed to be her signature joviality--it concerned him); other than that, there was the cat and two others. Bart and Tully, if he recalled correctly--

"I don't trust them," Mithras suddenly interjected, a clipped but gently caw swimming under the hum of the tavern. Her hackles bristled, if only for a moment.

Which ones?

"What do you mean which one?? All of them, you dunce! This world is too cruel to trust in anyone."

I hope you understand how flawed that thought process is.

"Your face is flawed!" The moment Mithras squawked, she deeply wished she hadn't. The tiny bird flinched at the same time Grimm did. She shrunk into herself, curling against the crook of his neck. "Apologies. That was--"

We should depart before the others leave us, don't you think? Stern, but brittle. Grimm didn't allow anything else to color his tone and hauled the rest of his emotions into the tar pit of his heart. His companion didn't mean it. Of course she didn't. But his horrendous lack of sleep didn't grant him an iota of patience. Ignoring the rest of her nudges and pleas, the elf boarded the cart and it with a snap of the reigns, they set off for Mulgrave.

---

Not long into their travels, Grimm took note of something. In exchange for blocking out his mental connection with Mithras (who was soaring the skies nearby), he shifted focus to the bard seated next to him. It was rude to intrude, he understood that much, but curiosity held him hostage as she retracted ink and parchment. Her displeasure from before wasn't a figment of his imagination, it seemed. In fact, it seemed to have worsened.

He did not know this woman. Not in the slightest. But from what little time he had come to interact with her, he was at least aware of her chivalry. She'd put her entire heart and soul into rescuing the boy just as much as he did. In his exhausted eyes, such an indicator placed her in a positive light.

Adjusting his bird mask, the elf man cleared his throat, hopefully loud enough to grab her attention. However, just as he was scrambling through his thoughts for the right gestures to communicate, commotion further up the road stole away the opportunity. Five men. One woman. Just form these observations alone, his gut twisted into knots. Nothing about this sat well with him.

Apparently, the bard felt the same, for she had summoned some sort of ethereal construct (She high fived it... wholesome) and willed it to near one of the bandits. Grimm's insides waged war; one half withered at the prospect of another fight, especially with sleep deprivation weighing down his heels, while the other half begged him to act. To assist the outnumbered innocent...

Dear Pip--he prayed this would turn out alright.

Rising to his feet, Grimm tried to stretch himself to full height and garner a decent vantage point, before leveling his aim onto one of the men's legs. Throw off his balance. Discombobulate. That was the goal here. If he could do that much, then it could give the woman a fighting chance. With a cleansing breath, the fog lifted just long enough for clarity to strike like the deadly accuracy of his arrow. It sliced through air and skewered the man's ankle like a knife through sodden paper. He howled in agony and hopped about, cradling his mutilated joint.

Completely unaware of the sizable rock nearby.

Like instinct, Grimm's lips parted in an attempt to warn the bandit. Mistake. Huge mistake. Rather than words, an inhuman and gurgling caw escaped him, trembling with the anxiety coursing through his veins. Even then, it wasn't enough. His target twisted and toppled over, cracking his skull into the dirt.

Unconscious.

...Oh dear. The guilt. It burned him inside out--

Another caw.

This one from Mithras.

The tiny raven swooped in from overhead, locked onto another bandit, but her trajectory was off. Grimm knew it seconds before she actually reached the man, but seconds wasn't enough time for him to reconnect their communications and warn her. Too late. Far too late. Mithras! Don't!

"FOR NARNIA!!!"

There's no such thing as Narnia! I-! Don't you dare-!

Regardless, his pleas went ignored and her companion struggled to land a solid scratch on the degenerate. He snarled and flashed rotten teeth, before rearing back his dagger to strike--

Grimm moved before he could think.

He dove off the cart and crashed into the bandit from behind. To say that the moment of impact was jarring stood as a grand understatement. While the bandit merely hit the ground with a huff, Grimm winced and bit back a grunt of pain when he landed awkwardly on his wrist. A dull snap quivered up the length of his fragile bones...

Shit.

 

[Elle Joyner]

Between the dark haired woman's fierce maneuvers, to the odd visual of the ghostly hand reaching for the backside of one of the bandits, to the sudden appearance of the bird, flapping madly in the face of another, to the wild display of nobility and foolishness, as the man in the mask leapt towards the fray, Bart and Tully sat in wide eyed confusion and shock. It was only when it occurred to the elder of the two that things might not go in their favor after all, that he shifted from his seat. Casting his thick cloak aside, Bart jumped from the side of the cart and reaching to the holster kept close to his side, he produced what appeared to be a small, handheld cannon. Giving the tumbler a spin, he held it aloft overhead and squeezed down on the crescent-shaped trigger.

A cacophonous roar echoed, loud as thunder, and for a moment, all stood still as stone. Smoke curled from the mouth of the weapon, and lowering it to his side, Bart's eyes narrowed, "Now that I've got your attention, I imagine it would be prudent for you gentlemen to consider yourselves outnumbered. Thus I recommend, wholeheartedly anticipating your cooperation, that you flee..."

Their eyes wide, surveying the scene before them - the woman and her wickedly sharp blade that had cleaved into their numbers with ease, the mysterious hand, the bird-faced man and his sharp clawed companion and now this... a man with a tempest in hand...

Stammering, those that could run abandoned their fallen comrades and without word, tore off through the tall brown grasses surrounding the road, towards the tree line leading into the swamps.

Swinging the thunder cannon round, Bart returned it to its cradle alongside his ribs and clearing his throat, he looked to the others, "Best we don't go mentioning that... if you wouldn't mind." Then slowly, he stepped closer to the woman, his eyes lingering on the fallen bandits a moment, before returning upwards to her, "Madam, are you alright?"

Tully, meanwhile, scrambling free of the cat that had launched onto him at the sound his father's weapon, nearly toppled from the cart, and moved to where Grimm had tumbled, holding out a hand to help him to his feet, "Quite a leap, there... but maybe you ought to leave flying to your bird friend?" Then looking to Piper, he grinned a little, his features brighter than previously, "Were you going to grab that man's a--"

"Tully!" Bart interrupted, giving his son a scolding glance, though the kiss of a smile edge its way to the corner of his mouth, "There are ladies present..."

"Sorry, Pop." Tully mumbled.

His gaze returning to the raven haired woman, Bart bowed his head, "My son, Tulliver. And I'm Bart... These two are Grimm and Piper. And of course, there's Mithras..." He gestured up, "And Leonard..." Then to the cat that was presently glaring from the side of cart, "We're on our way into Mulgrave... Might we give you a hand?"

---

TAGS || @Mobley Eats, @KatSea, @Effervescent

 

[Effervescent]

A year ago, Anhlan would have looked at the challenging fight with confidence, but now the bandits presented themselves as overwhelming. It had been quite some time since her golden sword sung its song. This Nightingale has since gone quiet, and thus out of practice.

It was a welcome happenstance to have travelers come across the scene when they did. Just as she readied her blade for the onslaught, a magical hand thrust up from the ground, and took with it the largest man by his underpants. Another figure fell from the cart right onto another one of her assailants, and the rest were scattered by the thunderous blasts from a hand canon.

[FONT=Marcellus, serif]She was barely given the opportunity to strike out once again with her blade. All the bandits fled for their lives once they realized they were outmatched. Sheathing her sword quickly, she approached the travelers and their wagon and bowed her head in greeting as they introduced themselves.[/FONT]

"I'm headed to Mulgrave as well," she said, and then motioned to her cart full of chairs and tables made of wood. "Off to sell my wares at the market. Thank you for your assistance with those bandits. They were trying to steal my horse."

Her gaze looked down at the body she stabbed through with her sword. He had succumbed to his wound in the chaos and now laid lifeless in the mud. "I could use a hand with this body," she said. "To get it off the road at least."

She walked over to the body and scooped him up from under his arms to attempt to drag him off the road. "I am in your debt as well," she mentioned. "How can I repay you all for your aid?"

 

[Elle Joyner]

Bart nodded towards his son, then to the woman as she crouched to shift the body and as Tully approached, bending down, he scooped up the briggand's ankles, tugging it from the dirt. It was a strange feat, considering he had been pinned not mere hours ago beneath a cart, fighting for his life, but muscles stretched taut across his shoulders, beneath his cloak - evidence, no doubt, of strength honed from too many years of his youth spent at work. The lack of shock over the corpse suggests it was more than just hard labor that had permeated his childhood…

"No debt necessary, at least in my book. You didn't ask to be set upon, and you certainly shouldn't expect kindness to come at a price. Least of all from the likes of me, after what these fine folks did for my son."

Humming in thought, he tapped his chin, I'd say it was unusual to see folk like this wreaking havoc this far from the Grave Road" he remarked, looking towards the city in the distance, "But things the way they are as of late, I'm not half surprised." With a shake of his head he crossed the road, and moved alongside Grimm. Popping open his pouch, the man produced a small roll of fabric. Unwinding it, he gingerly grasped Grimm's arm and held it steady, widing the bandage around the swelling wrist, "Unforgiving aren't they? Heroics. That ought to hold for now. Best you rest that a bit."

"Best you lot stay still…" The booming voice came from the bit of the road that flanked off towards the Grave Road, a heavy timber, gruff and cool. The man was enormous, rising head and shoulders above the party, a thick black beard wrapped along his chin, handing down to his chest, a curved mustache offering the illusion of an amusing smile where thin, pursed lips wore a contradicting scowl. Eyes like sage-leaf offered little in the ways of kindness, and if there was confusion to the contrary, the sword grasped in his broad, meaty hand and the small throng of well armed men behind him were both fair convincers.

"Seems you've divested me of some of my best bandits." The man huffed, gesturing to the lifeless body still held aloft by the dark haired woman and Tully, "That one there… was a cousin of mine. Fine folk, you lot, to come 'round my parts and cause all manner of disappointing grief to me and my people. Now, unless you'd like my archers to put some very attractive holes in you… I'd ask you kindly to come along."

There was no arguing, for a moment later from the other side of the road another small throng flanked in. Arms bound by thick leather cords, carts dragged off by others in the small militia, the party was led along, away from Mulgrave and towards the parched riverbed that served now as a small kingdom for the wayward and mistrusting, the ill-ilked and unforgiving. It was a long walk, tiring beneath the unusually hot mid-day sun that beat upon them from high above. Eventually, they came to a cavernous opening in the riverbed wall, either side guarded by fierce men with even fiercer blades. Their eyes watched the road, unmoving, even as the large party passed through the gaping maw.

Inside was an enormous room, a crackling bonfire set at her middle. Several chairs and tables stood throughout, alongside training dummies and racks of weaponry, and what appeared to be veritable mountains of old chests and crates, stacked high against rocky walls and tucked beneath stalagmites. At the end of the room, a larger chair, heaped with furs and hides… a throne like appearance, upon which currently sat a reedy woman, long legs curved over the arm, dressed in considerably less than the throne wore itself.

"I'd welcome you," The man started, his voice still cool and edged with threatening violence, "But seeing how you ain't welcome, I'll skip that part. This is the Hag's Grin and I'm Vosko… King of Bastards." Turning to walk backwards, his eyes pausing momentarily on each member of the party, he grinning, a strange expression on so severe a face, "'Round here, we've something of an… experimental justice system. You'll forgive me if I don't explain all the nuances. I've found it's a bit of a waste, considering how few walk away remembering it. Throw them in the cells… We'll prepare the arena."

Shoved forward, past where the man paused, the party was led to the side into a tunnel jutting off from the main cavernous chamber. Down a corridor, they went, before arriving a small chamber, this one opening up into what appeared to be man made wooden cells. Ten in total. Into one of these, the party was unceremoniously shoved. Two other cells were occupied as well, one by a smaller, thinner dwarven figure - a pretty woman with dark hair and delicate features, and a taller woman, dark skinned, with a wild mane of curls.

"Seems you lovely folk got some time to get acquainted…" One of the men noted, as he clicked the lock into place on the cell door, "Ya know… Before you kill each other." And with a smirk, he turned and left the room.

---

TAGS || @Mobley Eats, @KatSea, @Effervescent, @Mundane Monster, @epiphany

 

[Mundane Monster]

Location: Hag's Grin cells
Baseera sat slouched against the wooden bars of her cell facing the door. Though her seating gifted her the privilege of seeing her captors enter the room, that was not her thought process when she sat there initially. Beneath her tunic and barricaded behind her arms sat her war-dog Chicken. He was small enough that when the bandits captured her she shoved him under her tunic without their noticing, but now in this very revealing cell, she had to take extra measures to conceal his presence. She could only imagine what these people would do her poor pup. Really though. She could only imagine because she hadn't had enough time to really observe her captors before they...became her captors. In hindsight, she shouldn't have let her desire to compare her muscles to the giant bearded guy's muscles overtake her. But things happened and now she was here. In a wooden cell, waiting to fight other people apparently? She'd been too caught up trying to hold Chicken still under her shirt to really catch what giant bearded man had said. But the words "kill" and "each other" gave her the gist of what was to come.

Fight rings weren't foreign to her although this was her first time actively participating in one. When she'd traveled with Boglow and the others, they'd crossed paths with organizations that claimed to be like them and hosted shady "entertainment". Boglow always ranted raved about how those guys gave honest to goodness ringmasters like him a bad name. And now she was going to be apart of that mess.

Next to her, there were more wooden cells, most of them empty save for one which held a dwarf woman with brown hair. From her corner vantage point, Baseera attempted to study her fellow prisoner. Since the bandits had taken all their things Baseera couldn't tell what this woman's strengths were. Did she use swords? Or axes? Was she nimble or maybe durable? If they were going to fight Baseera had to figure out how she could win. She'd never fought a dwarf before.

Although...Did even they have to fight? If someone were to open their cells to retrieve them one could attack and release the other one! They could fight their way out together! Better yet the dwarf could make a distraction and Baseera could cast magic missile! They could blow this cavern to smithereens and escape!

"Hey!" Baseera hissed a little louder than necessary. "Hey! Hey, you--" before she could get the woman's attention, several footsteps echoed through the cavernous chamber. The same men who had forced her into the cell, entered with more people that they abruptly shoved into one cell. Baseera's mouth fell open at just the amount of the newcomers. There were two women and one man now, not including the dwarf.

"By Panmar!" Baseera exclaimed. "This works out, doesn't it? There are five of us and--I don't know how many bandits there are, I only saw about three of them really, but Panmar has blessed us! We have a fighting chance!"

As if in response to her optimistic outburst, Chicken released a sharp growling yip from underneath Baseera's tunic. All of the color drained from the druid's face and she coughed loudly. "Ah-hah...I haven't eaten in a few hours...My stomach sounds like an animal..."