- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- No Preferences
- Genres
- High fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by modern fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
It was misty.
Faint beads of water floated through the air, turning the sun into a nebulous orb, and buried the horizon in obscurity. The mist seemed to ebb and roll like a tide, one moment pulling back to grant a hint at the distance, before tumbling in once more to shroud everything in tenebrous grey.
There was a figure sitting at the bank of a river, seeming to waver in and out of sight. The water at the edge of the river seemed to lap in time with the roiling fog, reaching up the shore as though striving to touch the bare toes that sat just out of reach of each ripple.
The mysterious figure remained sitting perfectly still, and if it wasn't for the ceaseless motion of the water and the sound of gentle breathing it might have almost seemed as though time was frozen.
After an uncountable length of silence, almost as though moving unconsciously, the figure's hand dropped down to brush against the ground, nothing but the tips of pale fingers scraping across the pebbles. Eventually one smooth, grey stone was pulled away from its fellows, and a moment later it was pinched between thumb and forefinger, absentmindedly rolled back and forth as though the motion might somehow reveal the little rock's integrity.
However, only seconds later, a casual flick of the wrist sent the pebble skidding out into the thick air. It was quickly swallowed up by the mist, but even the fog couldn't swallow the sound of it landing with a faint plink in the water of the river. Then all was silent once more.
In the distance, the splashing sound of oars reverberated.
"Right!" A shrill voice cut through the dense fog, followed moments later by the sound of several paddles plunging into rapid water, and guttural groans of complaint as an equal number of men hauled against the wooden handles.
The prow of a riverboat abruptly appeared from the fog, veering wildly off to the side, barely steering clear of a wide ripple in the water that hinted at the sharp rock that lay just below the surface. A bug-eyed man hung from the front of the boat, held in place by nothing but his own quivering arms. His gaze flickered quickly from side to side, never lingering for longer than a split second, as he desperately sought out any indication of impending destruction that might be hiding within the turbulent water, which bucked only a few feet below his toes. Abruptly his already round eyes seemed to grow even wider, and his sharp voice abruptly squawked out again, this time filled with a hint of panic. "Too far. Too far!"
Only a moment later, a rocky wall suddenly appeared from the fog, as though it had simply been conjured out of nothingness. The lanky man whimpered, before pulling himself back up on deck with surprising strength. "Hurry!"
There were groans and a few muffled curses of frustration from the back of the riverboat, but abruptly the prow began to straighten out once more. All the same, the man was wise in his decision to return to the safety of deck, as the nose of the boat scraped jarringly against the wall. The man staggered to the side under the force of the blow, and there was the sound of several heavy objects, abruptly dislodged from their former location, tumbling around in the depths of the boat.
"Damnation, Meb!"
The man on the prow winced as he pulled himself back to his feet, quickly shouting back a quick "It's not my fault," as he dropped back over the railing, leaving nothing but fingers in sight. The new position seemed to offer him some measure of confidence, as his words hadn't even had time to finish echoing before more joined them. "It's this damn fog! If I was any closer to the river, I'd be underwater."
There was a grumble from the man who had cursed after the boats scrape with the canyon walls, and his calloused hand twitched as though looking for something to strangle. He took a half step towards the railing, as though to check the damage to his ship, before he spat into the fog, and turned back around to glower at another man whose silhouette had finally resolved into the half-visible face of a musclebound hulk. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a bad omen, captain." The other man grunted, one hand reaching up to claw anxiously at a matted beard. His eyes flicked rapidly to the left, momentarily landing on a stack of crates that blocked part of the deck from view, before his eyes pulled away once more and he shuddered. A quick snort was followed by the sound of a wet swallow. "Fog thick as soup, been blocking the light all day. The men grow more and more anxious by the minute You've got to..."
"I've had quite enough of your superstition." The barking voice caused the bearded man to visibly flinch, despite the disparity in size between the two. He shrunk back slightly, one hand raised as though to placate the glowering sailor, or perhaps to provide as something of a barrier between the two. His hand certainly did nothing to stop the onslaught of words. "We've got a shipment to deliver, and a little weather isn't going to get in my way. I have no use for men who can't do their job. They can grumble all they like, but anyone too consumed by figments to do their work properly is going to end up in the water, and if you don't see that it happens you'll be right in there along with them! Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," came the muttered reply.
The beefy man turned to move away, but was abruptly stopped by a hand on his arm. "We'll make it out fine," the captain continued, voice only slightly less coarse. "I've ridden this river enough times to know we can't have more than ten minutes..."
"Left!"
The two staggered slightly to the side, before stabilizing once more. The captain seemed to have forgotten where he left off with his words. "The canyon will end soon. Just keep everyone on task, and I'll make sure they get something good at Ilsworth."
This earned a bit of a lecherous smile from the other man, and he tugged at his beard again. "I'll see to it."
The captain's words proved true soon enough. It was possible for everyone onboard to feel the moment the canyon came to an end and the river widened and slowed, even if the fog kept the walls of the canyon out of sight. It was as though the world, which had been tugging away under their feet up until a moment ago, suddenly grew tired of its dangerous game and settled down to rest. In the back of the boat several men finally released their paddles, digging cracked fingernails into calloused palms in an attempt to ease some of the stinging from the hours of work. Meb scrambled back into the boat, before slumping against the railing and letting his eyes drop closed for a few minutes.
He was brought abruptly to his feet again well before he was ready to stand up by the sound of heavily booted feet stomping their way up to the prow. The captain gave him a withering glare, but didn't otherwise say anything as he too moved to lean against the railing, his gaze turned out towards the water instead of in towards the ship. It was clear he was waiting for something, straining his eyes against the fog to catch a telltale glimpse of something other than water. But as the light grew ever dimmer the misty weather seemed to draw closer and closer to the boat, as though looking to swallow it whole. A wrinkle formed in between the captain's brows, and his gaze never wavered.
Finally, after the foggy darkness had nearly grown impenetrable, a light glimmered in the distance. For several long moments the captain didn't react. His eyes had played so many tricks on him by now, and he didn't dare call out early. But this light didn't fade, and was soon joined by another and another. Abruptly, before the captain even had a chance to turn around and let out a cry, the distant fog was stained golden. "Ilsworth hoy! Everyone get ready to dock. Hurry it up, unless you want to spend the night on the river!"
Before his voice even had a chance to stop echoing through the ship, the sound of countless pairs of feet stomping upon wet wood reverberated through the air. Men poured out from under the deck, lining up against the railing, before a hoarse cheer arose at the sight of the glowing city.
"Get a move on!"
The men turned and began to move towards their various positions across the boat, when a sudden trace of movement caught their eyes. Something was stirring from within the shelter of stacked crates that had seemed to catch the eye of the quartermaster several times over the course of the journey.
Several of the men instantly froze in place, while the rest suddenly picked up the pace of their steps, scarpering off towards their various duties. Those who remained behind were able to see a thin figure, cloaked in black, straighten from within the boxes. Despite the looseness of the dark shirt and the cowl that rested across her shoulders, it was impossible to fully hide the alluring outline of her figure. A few of the men gazed hungrily at her half-hooded features, but quickly looked away as she began to look out over the deck, lust instantly being replaced by tight expressions and averted eyes. Those who had found themselves with frozen feet quickly began to move again.
With the combined efforts of the crew the riverboat moved closer to the shore, and gradually began to slow. Just as the wooden planks of a dock came into view, the boat's motion seemed to stall out completely, almost as though the river's current had completely stopped. Or so it might have seemed if it wasn't for the sound of splashing oars, and the occasional jolt as the men fought the motion of the tide. A few particularly bulky individuals hurled themselves over the edge, crashing into the dock and heaving the boat closer with the ropes that had been wrapped around their shoulders. They tied the boat down with quick, efficient knots, ensuring that their transportation, and the goods upon it, wouldn't be swept away by the current over the course of the night.
The sickly yellow light from the village reflected wanly against the lone woman's pale skin. A strand of white hair slipped out from the confines of her hood at the tug of a stray breeze, and Amaris' fingers twitched up irritably to shove it back into place within the fabric. Even with the fog obscuring her view, it was possible to make out the ruined wood of the dock, which spoke poorly for the state of the town at which the boat was planning to moor for the night. All the same, the moment the ropes were fully secured and the boat stopped wobbling, Amaris strode her way quickly over to the gap in the railing, where several of the boatworkers had started to swarm.
The moment they saw her coming they staggered back several steps, and Amaris didn't hesitate to march briskly through the opening they had provided. She crouched slightly at the edge of the boat, before dropping down to the dock, even her slight weight causing an ominous, damp thud from the old wood. She straightened from the cat-like crouch in which she'd landed, and quickly resumed her brisk march towards town.
"We'll be leaving at dawn. Sharp!" a voice called out after her. Amaris did little more than raise a hand in acknowledgement. She didn't stop moving until she'd gotten that river out of her sight, and wood had been replaced with loosely fitted cobblestone. It was only at that point that her feet came to a halt. The faint sound of her sigh slipped out among the fog, and it might have almost been possible to see some of the stiffness that left her shoulders as she finally relaxed.
Amaris had been traveling down that river for weeks now, transitioning from boat to boat and replacing one crew of burly men with another. She'd been working her way steadily north for the past several years, chasing a man that might as well have been a figment, and by the time she finally caught up with him she'd grown to have a mild distaste for the frigid weather that had seemed to follow her wherever she went. And so she'd decided that she was going to head south until she found a day without a cloud in the sky, when the heat of the sun caused the land to waver before her eyes.
Instead she'd ended up in this frigid little town enveloped in fog. The sigh that escaped her lips this time sounded far more like a snort of indignation than a breathy complaint. She knew she was only going to be staying here for one night, until the river boat moved on and she was able to drift away along with it, but it still felt like the town was mocking her. Amaris could feel herself canted slightly to the side, the cobblestone street having sunk from it's original position. Several of the cobbles had been completely displaced, but no one had taken the time to fix it. Amaris wrinkled her nose for a moment before the expression faded, and she started moving forward again. Some of the indignation seemed to have left her, but she still paused to shake her head at the sight of a guttering candle in a streetlamp. The light was refracted wildly across the street by a spiderweb crack that ran across the glass. A sudden gust of wind hurled down the alley, tugging at the edge of her cape and the hem of her shirt. It caused the candle to gutter, which in turn made the fog look as though it was swirling about her, drawing her in like a branch caught in a whirlpool. Amaris' head tilted slightly to the side as she waited for the little light to go out, but it stubbornly clung to the wick, and as the river breeze subsided it returned to its usual flickering light. Amaris shook her head and moved on.
One street after another after another. Every one filled to the brim with dark fog, cold air, and the occasional puddle of water which she had to step wide around to avoid wetting her boots. Some dark, viscid substance she couldn't quite identify seemed to have taken a liking to this city. It coated the cobblestones on the edge of the road, and even pushed its way up the sides of buildings, clinging to damp wood and cold metal alike. Amaris' fingers rubbed together slightly, the faint motion the only hint that she might be uncomfortable in this place. It wasn't as though she hadn't been in worse places. It was simply that she couldn't imagine what could have degraded a town, which should have grown rich of the coin of passing sailors who had no other option but to stop and spend the night, to this point.
It wasn't until Amaris had walked another couple blocks that she suddenly, and rather abruptly, realized exactly how deserted this town was when the sound of staggering footsteps suddenly reached her ears. She turned around abruptly, only to catch sight of a middle aged man shuffling his way towards her. There was a slight gauntness to his face, only heightened by the traces of jaundice that marked the whites of his eyes. Amaris would not have been surprised to see that his fingernails were the same, slightly sickly yellow color, except for the fact that his hands were buried in the depths of brown sleeves. His slow pace didn't falter as he moved closer to her, but Amaris wasn't worried. There was a vacantness to his eyes, something that promised this man was far more a threat to himself than he was to anyone else.
"Excuse me," Amaris asked quietly. "Can you tell me where the inn is?"
The man slowed, staggering faintly as though he only knew how to move at one pace, before a wrinkled hand emerged from within his overlarge jacket. A crooked finger pointed off down the street, in the direction they were both walking.
"That way?" Amaris clarified.
The man nodded, and Amaris offered him a half-hearted smile, bowing her head slightly in thanks, before she was abruptly brought to a halt by a croaking voice. After so much still and quiet it cracked through the misty air like a whip, even though he couldn't have been speaking much louder than a mumble. "Bet hurry and get 'nside. 'S almost night. Be here soon."
"What, what will?"
The man simply shook his head and shuffled on, turning down a street a moment later. Amaris had no choice but to walk on herself.
Despite the lack of any sort of details in the man's directions, Amaris found the inn soon enough. It wasn't hard, as it must have been placed right at the center of town. The only one of the buildings she had passed so far that exceeded three stories, Amaris imagined it must have once been a fine place to stay . Now she could only see it as something to shelter her from the chill of the fog.
It was only as she drew a little bit closer to the door that Amaris abruptly realized that everyone who had been missing from the streets must have been located within this very building. Even through the thick stone walls and the heavy oak door, she could make out the sounds of numerous people crammed together into a small space. It wasn't truly loud, she was uncertain if anything in this town was capable of making any more noise than a murmur, but the very air suddenly seemed stained with arrogance.
Amaris abruptly found herself wondering if it wouldn't just be better to turn around and spend the night on the ship, but in the end she pressed her lips together and raised her hand to the thick handle that marked the entrance to the inn, before pushing her way inside.
Faint beads of water floated through the air, turning the sun into a nebulous orb, and buried the horizon in obscurity. The mist seemed to ebb and roll like a tide, one moment pulling back to grant a hint at the distance, before tumbling in once more to shroud everything in tenebrous grey.
There was a figure sitting at the bank of a river, seeming to waver in and out of sight. The water at the edge of the river seemed to lap in time with the roiling fog, reaching up the shore as though striving to touch the bare toes that sat just out of reach of each ripple.
The mysterious figure remained sitting perfectly still, and if it wasn't for the ceaseless motion of the water and the sound of gentle breathing it might have almost seemed as though time was frozen.
After an uncountable length of silence, almost as though moving unconsciously, the figure's hand dropped down to brush against the ground, nothing but the tips of pale fingers scraping across the pebbles. Eventually one smooth, grey stone was pulled away from its fellows, and a moment later it was pinched between thumb and forefinger, absentmindedly rolled back and forth as though the motion might somehow reveal the little rock's integrity.
However, only seconds later, a casual flick of the wrist sent the pebble skidding out into the thick air. It was quickly swallowed up by the mist, but even the fog couldn't swallow the sound of it landing with a faint plink in the water of the river. Then all was silent once more.
In the distance, the splashing sound of oars reverberated.
"Right!" A shrill voice cut through the dense fog, followed moments later by the sound of several paddles plunging into rapid water, and guttural groans of complaint as an equal number of men hauled against the wooden handles.
The prow of a riverboat abruptly appeared from the fog, veering wildly off to the side, barely steering clear of a wide ripple in the water that hinted at the sharp rock that lay just below the surface. A bug-eyed man hung from the front of the boat, held in place by nothing but his own quivering arms. His gaze flickered quickly from side to side, never lingering for longer than a split second, as he desperately sought out any indication of impending destruction that might be hiding within the turbulent water, which bucked only a few feet below his toes. Abruptly his already round eyes seemed to grow even wider, and his sharp voice abruptly squawked out again, this time filled with a hint of panic. "Too far. Too far!"
Only a moment later, a rocky wall suddenly appeared from the fog, as though it had simply been conjured out of nothingness. The lanky man whimpered, before pulling himself back up on deck with surprising strength. "Hurry!"
There were groans and a few muffled curses of frustration from the back of the riverboat, but abruptly the prow began to straighten out once more. All the same, the man was wise in his decision to return to the safety of deck, as the nose of the boat scraped jarringly against the wall. The man staggered to the side under the force of the blow, and there was the sound of several heavy objects, abruptly dislodged from their former location, tumbling around in the depths of the boat.
"Damnation, Meb!"
The man on the prow winced as he pulled himself back to his feet, quickly shouting back a quick "It's not my fault," as he dropped back over the railing, leaving nothing but fingers in sight. The new position seemed to offer him some measure of confidence, as his words hadn't even had time to finish echoing before more joined them. "It's this damn fog! If I was any closer to the river, I'd be underwater."
There was a grumble from the man who had cursed after the boats scrape with the canyon walls, and his calloused hand twitched as though looking for something to strangle. He took a half step towards the railing, as though to check the damage to his ship, before he spat into the fog, and turned back around to glower at another man whose silhouette had finally resolved into the half-visible face of a musclebound hulk. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a bad omen, captain." The other man grunted, one hand reaching up to claw anxiously at a matted beard. His eyes flicked rapidly to the left, momentarily landing on a stack of crates that blocked part of the deck from view, before his eyes pulled away once more and he shuddered. A quick snort was followed by the sound of a wet swallow. "Fog thick as soup, been blocking the light all day. The men grow more and more anxious by the minute You've got to..."
"I've had quite enough of your superstition." The barking voice caused the bearded man to visibly flinch, despite the disparity in size between the two. He shrunk back slightly, one hand raised as though to placate the glowering sailor, or perhaps to provide as something of a barrier between the two. His hand certainly did nothing to stop the onslaught of words. "We've got a shipment to deliver, and a little weather isn't going to get in my way. I have no use for men who can't do their job. They can grumble all they like, but anyone too consumed by figments to do their work properly is going to end up in the water, and if you don't see that it happens you'll be right in there along with them! Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," came the muttered reply.
The beefy man turned to move away, but was abruptly stopped by a hand on his arm. "We'll make it out fine," the captain continued, voice only slightly less coarse. "I've ridden this river enough times to know we can't have more than ten minutes..."
"Left!"
The two staggered slightly to the side, before stabilizing once more. The captain seemed to have forgotten where he left off with his words. "The canyon will end soon. Just keep everyone on task, and I'll make sure they get something good at Ilsworth."
This earned a bit of a lecherous smile from the other man, and he tugged at his beard again. "I'll see to it."
The captain's words proved true soon enough. It was possible for everyone onboard to feel the moment the canyon came to an end and the river widened and slowed, even if the fog kept the walls of the canyon out of sight. It was as though the world, which had been tugging away under their feet up until a moment ago, suddenly grew tired of its dangerous game and settled down to rest. In the back of the boat several men finally released their paddles, digging cracked fingernails into calloused palms in an attempt to ease some of the stinging from the hours of work. Meb scrambled back into the boat, before slumping against the railing and letting his eyes drop closed for a few minutes.
He was brought abruptly to his feet again well before he was ready to stand up by the sound of heavily booted feet stomping their way up to the prow. The captain gave him a withering glare, but didn't otherwise say anything as he too moved to lean against the railing, his gaze turned out towards the water instead of in towards the ship. It was clear he was waiting for something, straining his eyes against the fog to catch a telltale glimpse of something other than water. But as the light grew ever dimmer the misty weather seemed to draw closer and closer to the boat, as though looking to swallow it whole. A wrinkle formed in between the captain's brows, and his gaze never wavered.
Finally, after the foggy darkness had nearly grown impenetrable, a light glimmered in the distance. For several long moments the captain didn't react. His eyes had played so many tricks on him by now, and he didn't dare call out early. But this light didn't fade, and was soon joined by another and another. Abruptly, before the captain even had a chance to turn around and let out a cry, the distant fog was stained golden. "Ilsworth hoy! Everyone get ready to dock. Hurry it up, unless you want to spend the night on the river!"
Before his voice even had a chance to stop echoing through the ship, the sound of countless pairs of feet stomping upon wet wood reverberated through the air. Men poured out from under the deck, lining up against the railing, before a hoarse cheer arose at the sight of the glowing city.
"Get a move on!"
The men turned and began to move towards their various positions across the boat, when a sudden trace of movement caught their eyes. Something was stirring from within the shelter of stacked crates that had seemed to catch the eye of the quartermaster several times over the course of the journey.
Several of the men instantly froze in place, while the rest suddenly picked up the pace of their steps, scarpering off towards their various duties. Those who remained behind were able to see a thin figure, cloaked in black, straighten from within the boxes. Despite the looseness of the dark shirt and the cowl that rested across her shoulders, it was impossible to fully hide the alluring outline of her figure. A few of the men gazed hungrily at her half-hooded features, but quickly looked away as she began to look out over the deck, lust instantly being replaced by tight expressions and averted eyes. Those who had found themselves with frozen feet quickly began to move again.
With the combined efforts of the crew the riverboat moved closer to the shore, and gradually began to slow. Just as the wooden planks of a dock came into view, the boat's motion seemed to stall out completely, almost as though the river's current had completely stopped. Or so it might have seemed if it wasn't for the sound of splashing oars, and the occasional jolt as the men fought the motion of the tide. A few particularly bulky individuals hurled themselves over the edge, crashing into the dock and heaving the boat closer with the ropes that had been wrapped around their shoulders. They tied the boat down with quick, efficient knots, ensuring that their transportation, and the goods upon it, wouldn't be swept away by the current over the course of the night.
The sickly yellow light from the village reflected wanly against the lone woman's pale skin. A strand of white hair slipped out from the confines of her hood at the tug of a stray breeze, and Amaris' fingers twitched up irritably to shove it back into place within the fabric. Even with the fog obscuring her view, it was possible to make out the ruined wood of the dock, which spoke poorly for the state of the town at which the boat was planning to moor for the night. All the same, the moment the ropes were fully secured and the boat stopped wobbling, Amaris strode her way quickly over to the gap in the railing, where several of the boatworkers had started to swarm.
The moment they saw her coming they staggered back several steps, and Amaris didn't hesitate to march briskly through the opening they had provided. She crouched slightly at the edge of the boat, before dropping down to the dock, even her slight weight causing an ominous, damp thud from the old wood. She straightened from the cat-like crouch in which she'd landed, and quickly resumed her brisk march towards town.
"We'll be leaving at dawn. Sharp!" a voice called out after her. Amaris did little more than raise a hand in acknowledgement. She didn't stop moving until she'd gotten that river out of her sight, and wood had been replaced with loosely fitted cobblestone. It was only at that point that her feet came to a halt. The faint sound of her sigh slipped out among the fog, and it might have almost been possible to see some of the stiffness that left her shoulders as she finally relaxed.
Amaris had been traveling down that river for weeks now, transitioning from boat to boat and replacing one crew of burly men with another. She'd been working her way steadily north for the past several years, chasing a man that might as well have been a figment, and by the time she finally caught up with him she'd grown to have a mild distaste for the frigid weather that had seemed to follow her wherever she went. And so she'd decided that she was going to head south until she found a day without a cloud in the sky, when the heat of the sun caused the land to waver before her eyes.
Instead she'd ended up in this frigid little town enveloped in fog. The sigh that escaped her lips this time sounded far more like a snort of indignation than a breathy complaint. She knew she was only going to be staying here for one night, until the river boat moved on and she was able to drift away along with it, but it still felt like the town was mocking her. Amaris could feel herself canted slightly to the side, the cobblestone street having sunk from it's original position. Several of the cobbles had been completely displaced, but no one had taken the time to fix it. Amaris wrinkled her nose for a moment before the expression faded, and she started moving forward again. Some of the indignation seemed to have left her, but she still paused to shake her head at the sight of a guttering candle in a streetlamp. The light was refracted wildly across the street by a spiderweb crack that ran across the glass. A sudden gust of wind hurled down the alley, tugging at the edge of her cape and the hem of her shirt. It caused the candle to gutter, which in turn made the fog look as though it was swirling about her, drawing her in like a branch caught in a whirlpool. Amaris' head tilted slightly to the side as she waited for the little light to go out, but it stubbornly clung to the wick, and as the river breeze subsided it returned to its usual flickering light. Amaris shook her head and moved on.
One street after another after another. Every one filled to the brim with dark fog, cold air, and the occasional puddle of water which she had to step wide around to avoid wetting her boots. Some dark, viscid substance she couldn't quite identify seemed to have taken a liking to this city. It coated the cobblestones on the edge of the road, and even pushed its way up the sides of buildings, clinging to damp wood and cold metal alike. Amaris' fingers rubbed together slightly, the faint motion the only hint that she might be uncomfortable in this place. It wasn't as though she hadn't been in worse places. It was simply that she couldn't imagine what could have degraded a town, which should have grown rich of the coin of passing sailors who had no other option but to stop and spend the night, to this point.
It wasn't until Amaris had walked another couple blocks that she suddenly, and rather abruptly, realized exactly how deserted this town was when the sound of staggering footsteps suddenly reached her ears. She turned around abruptly, only to catch sight of a middle aged man shuffling his way towards her. There was a slight gauntness to his face, only heightened by the traces of jaundice that marked the whites of his eyes. Amaris would not have been surprised to see that his fingernails were the same, slightly sickly yellow color, except for the fact that his hands were buried in the depths of brown sleeves. His slow pace didn't falter as he moved closer to her, but Amaris wasn't worried. There was a vacantness to his eyes, something that promised this man was far more a threat to himself than he was to anyone else.
"Excuse me," Amaris asked quietly. "Can you tell me where the inn is?"
The man slowed, staggering faintly as though he only knew how to move at one pace, before a wrinkled hand emerged from within his overlarge jacket. A crooked finger pointed off down the street, in the direction they were both walking.
"That way?" Amaris clarified.
The man nodded, and Amaris offered him a half-hearted smile, bowing her head slightly in thanks, before she was abruptly brought to a halt by a croaking voice. After so much still and quiet it cracked through the misty air like a whip, even though he couldn't have been speaking much louder than a mumble. "Bet hurry and get 'nside. 'S almost night. Be here soon."
"What, what will?"
The man simply shook his head and shuffled on, turning down a street a moment later. Amaris had no choice but to walk on herself.
Despite the lack of any sort of details in the man's directions, Amaris found the inn soon enough. It wasn't hard, as it must have been placed right at the center of town. The only one of the buildings she had passed so far that exceeded three stories, Amaris imagined it must have once been a fine place to stay . Now she could only see it as something to shelter her from the chill of the fog.
It was only as she drew a little bit closer to the door that Amaris abruptly realized that everyone who had been missing from the streets must have been located within this very building. Even through the thick stone walls and the heavy oak door, she could make out the sounds of numerous people crammed together into a small space. It wasn't truly loud, she was uncertain if anything in this town was capable of making any more noise than a murmur, but the very air suddenly seemed stained with arrogance.
Amaris abruptly found herself wondering if it wouldn't just be better to turn around and spend the night on the ship, but in the end she pressed her lips together and raised her hand to the thick handle that marked the entrance to the inn, before pushing her way inside.