The Hunt of a rare kind.

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Cirilla, Jan 7, 2016.

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  1. A wolf school witcher named Áskell took on a contract in Vizima. The make had no idea what sort of a situation he was in for as he came across a race of creatures that he had only really read about.

    Áskell played by Cirilla
    Shiazohn played by De Lunduent
     
    #1 Cirilla, Jan 7, 2016
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 4, 2016

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    Áskell


    A relatively young witcher named Áskell gets sent to Vizima on a task from Kear Morhen. It was the same task that every witcher was gifted to do. Kill monsters and get paid handsomely for doing so. It was a warm day with a thin layer of cloud in the sky. A young man with brown hair with a thin layer of white re growth on his roots stood in full armor, with two swords nicely in their crimson red sheaths reading the job board. He was told by a elderly man that there was a job that nobody would dear touch and it was labeled 'Witcher desperately needed!' Taking a gander of the contract it was certainly a serious situation with many lives already gone.

    Áskell took time contract down of the board claiming it for himself. Taking on jobs in Vizima was always a little risky but that was the life of a Witcher full of risks and dangerous ventures, bordering on life and death. Reading the contract he found that the poster of this job lived in a farming village in the outskirts. It was not a long ride away and Áskell was happy to ride to the destination. Sliding the Witcher contract into his pocket he went to the stables where he left his horse Opal. Once he had gotten to Opal and was on his way the Witcher couldn't help but be concerned. A monster in the outskirts picking of people from every little farming village throughout the outskirts.

    After a decent ride Áskell arrived in the farming village. He was greeted by a small group of men and woman all very happy to see a witcher in their village. An elderly man approached the Witcher and Áskell dismounted his horse. "ye are here for the contract?" The elderly man asked as Áskell nodded "yes I am..." .

    The two men discussed the contract right there on the muddy road and Áskell listened to every detail carefully. It was not a secret to Witchers that there was a race of cat like humans that lived far out in the outskirts. These villages are claiming that one of these creatures were murdering their people. At first Áskell struggled to accept that but the more he listened and after viewing remains of the last few victims it was clear that this was not the standard monster and that it was only his job to put these cat like humans into question. Once his chat was complete and bodies were viewed the Witcher headed out to track down this creature. It had left very faint tracks behind that no human could find.

    Áskell was now heading into the wild parts of the Outskirts...​
     
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    There are many urban legends of monsters and heroes within the lands of old. These stories tell lessons to the youth, or the origins of certain topics, but some are so incredibly insane that even the most crazed of people would never believe them. This is one such tale of man who turned their backs on the gods, expecting them to repay their insolence with kindness.

    Sometimes even the most beautiful seeds can produce a weed. And that weed will grow and grasp on to the roots of surrounding flowers, spreading its taint and sucking the life out of everything around it.

    Long, Long ago, before man, and withcers, before life as we know it, the world was a much more wild and untamed place. The earth spread out, wild and fertile, dipping and rising, falling and crumbling into anything the gods saw fit. Horses rushed along the earth, careless and free, and the birds swooped over the land and flew to the heavens to deliver news of the world's progress to the unseen gods themselves.

    There was a huge and beautiful river that flowed through the land here, with water as clear as crystal and fish the size of men. The fruits that grew by this beautiful water source were gigantic and ripe, beautifully colored and their taste was unlike anything anyone could ever imagine.

    Along this river there was a small tribe of people. Kind hunters and farmers, these people lived off of the land and loved their land just as much. They took fruits from the trees, and in turn planted the seeds. They killed and took meat from the animals, and in turn they allowed no part of those animals go to waste. They lived with and spoke to the spirits on the wind, and they sang and danced together all as a happy family. A happiness and peace that would not lost for much longer, the infestation of man came and with it carried diseases that killed so many in the village.

    She remembered the screams of her people as their homes were ripped from them with men carrying spears of steel, the murder, the savagery that forced her people into hiding…why had the gods cursed them?
    The oldest and most proud of races resorted to nothing more than mere savages. The cruelty they received from man was never forgotten not even as the decades passed, the seed of hatred sprouted and such an act was never forgotten.


    On an ordinary day such as this the small village inhabited by the small number of villagers was alive, children running and playing with one another, elder’s creating pottery, and the women tending to the harvest. A small and quaint life but more than enough for her race.

    Meanwhile, within the dense forest that separated her tribe from the humans trouble had been spotted and reported back to the fierce warriors of the tribe. A dozen or so of men and women gathered behind the shelter of the trees while a witch brave and bold began to make his way towards their realm. It had only been a matter of time, to their understanding a witcher was once a human made into a monster to hunt down monsters, but leave it to the humans to assume that her people were the monsters when they needed to take a look in the mirror themselves.

    Among her kin was a woman as beautiful as she was deadly. Dressed in a gown made of animal hide it hugged her waist but upon her bust simple animal bones, body paint symbolized her rank within the village as it did with every member. A natural born hunter with hair of auburn that waved down her shoulders stopping at the mid of her back, golden hues stared off through the branches at the on coming witcher. A real fool, she thought. Turning her attention from the witcher she looked over her shoulder towards her kin and nodded, with the okay they parted, leaping from the trees into position awaiting her command. Their plan was simple, capture the witcher and bring him back to the elders for judgement.
     
  4. As the Witcher proceeded further into the dense forest. Into territory he knew even his mentor The White Wolf did not wish to enter. The sensation of being watched grew. It was never the Witchers goal to originally go this far, but the man had a mystery to solve and a pouch that needed coin so this investigation into the unknown had to continue. As the male walked alert and collect, he raised up a gloved hand to his now madly shaking medallion. It was no surprise that whomever lived in these forests were watching him. He could smell them. Hear them move. Áskell halted in a small clearing among the trees and let his golden catlike eyes take in everything as the tracks he was following still lead onwards.

    He was completely surrounded now.. Though none of the cat like people had shown themselves Áskell knew he stood no chance in a fight. Especially since there was no knowledge on how their kind fought. Lowering his hand from his medallion the brunette stays still awaiting on whatever came next. He hoped to not start a fight. Especially one he couldn't win.

    Still eyeing up his path he chose to speak up with hope that they understood him. "my name is Áskell... I am a witcher from Kear Morhen! I come in search of a murderer that has either come from or fled into your lands!" He said it calmly and clearly his face expressed no emotions but his scars on his face expressed many stories of battle experience and knowledge. He still did not reach for his blade , Áskell just waited... Whatever happened next was on them.
     
  5. He was true fool, no man nor witcher ever took up this contract. To think that her people had a contract against them, it insulted her. Coming from a proud linage and history that ran deeper than the ravines within the mountains it truly urked her that the humans had the nerve to place a contract upon her people and their lands. She didn’t know why she the witcher had come but as she sat camouflaged within the trees his booming voice soon rang creating an echo that bounced off the branches of the trees. He presented himself as Áskell, an odd name to say the least, but what truly peeked her interested was the reason at last why he had come. A murder? She knew no such thing, and she knew that none within her village had slaughtered a human, let alone stepped foot upon human soils since the dawn of the red moon. Centuries ago, the lived isolated from every creature and even humans.

    Another peeking interest was his desire to talk rather than fight, useless. With her comrades in position the woman had prepared for an aerial attack but something about this man seemed so off, she wasn’t about to lower herself to the standards of man but instead show this Witcher just how different she and the other werecats were to the likes of man. Signaling her comrades to stand down with various hand signs she instead decided to tackle this matter on her own.

    Falling from the branches of the tree she currently sat perched in she landed with the grace of a ballerina. Bending her knees until she straightened them, presenting herself to the Witcher allowing him to know of her presence before she slowly stood and straightened her posture. Her body was lean, bare with milky skin flesh, breast exposed but beads that hung around her neck. Beads of various creatures she herself had slain. Body paint of crimson and brown traveled down her collar bone stopping just above her navel in various arrow like formations.

    Her head turning with the rest of her body until she faced him fully. Golden orbs narrowing at the man while her auburn locks swayed in the faint breeze. A woman in the prime of her youth but with strength unknown to many, and the blessings of her feline divine shining down upon her. Slowly her feet began to pick up as she moved cautiously towards him. She wasn’t going to let her guard down, and with her heightened senses she heard every beat of his heart, every breath he took and every sound his muscles made when as he stood. At her hip rested her weapon of choice, a small dagger forged by her own hands and cut right out of the side of the mountains. A seemingly harmless weapon but in her hands a force to be reckoned with, and dabbed with a deadly sedative, a mixture of herbs that if applied right could knock out even the strongest and most fierce of beast.

    “Go now, and leave these lands..” her foreign accent prominent as she stopped several yards in front of the man.

    “You are not welcome here….this shall be your only warning Withcer. Refuse this offer and I shall show you no mercy…” She didn’t care why he was here, but for him to offer a humble option for her she decided to give him the same opportunity.
     
  6. Standing in silence Áskell let his eyes take in what was ahead as ears was taking in the number of the cat humans. He counted a dozen, from what he had read on their combat was that no human could win a fight with them. Though himself and the other Witchers were an exclusion to that rule. Not letting even the smallest movement go unnoticed Áskell watched a beautiful woman.. No warrior jump down from the tree. At a glance a normal man would laugh at the sight before him, but Áskell did not laugh he observed. Not a even a glimpse of emotion showed on his face as he listened to her words. It was clear they were blind and unaware of the trail left behind. Looking at the woman then to her dagger he let his cat like gaze watch her. "I mean no disrespect but I cannot leave until the trail I am following goes cold" Askell says calmly knowing this would not be what the locals would want to hear. But it wasn't like he could leave and come back another time, this was his only opportunity to talk to these people and hopefully not meet his end.

    "I am on a search of a murderer who kills woman and children in a way I have never seen before" Áskell says still expressionless as he spoke to her. He could hear the faintest of movements in the trees above. No doubt they were going to try kill him. "I need to clear your kinds name before more than just a single witcher enters your lands". Áskell always spoke the truth. He knew all the farmers families were living in fear of what lived in these forests and the Witch Hunters were the next option they were going to approach if Áskell couldn't solve this. "the people living in the small villages are living in fear of a murderer that flees to your lands" he said now falling silent again. He now had to wait and see if this race could be reasoned with. It was now their choice. Will that kill an unarmed witcher? Would they take him captive?? Or will they negotiate?.
     
  7. Clearly this Witcher came for a contract, a contract she herself wanted to discover. When he began to talk her brows rose with curiosity planted all over her face. He came because the humans claimed that the murders of their villagers were a result of one of her kind? Such an insult, she and the others might have hated the humans and their diets might have consisted of human flesh but the last time anyone saw a human was centuries ago. They were nomadic people, creatures of solitude. They kept to themselves and never even bothered with the likes of humans. Truly this was insulting, the more he spoke on his reasons of being present the more irritated she was growing. She was impulsive, hence why no man within her village dared to challenge her. She was the strongest and if this man imposed on their village and was indeed a threat then she would eliminate him.

    No

    That would make her no better than the humans, she needed him, alive. She had to take him back to the village alive where the elders would put him on trial, and only then the gods would decide his fate. For now she had to stay her blade. Her hand trembled at her side but ultimately she rose her arms above her head with the dagger in her hands. Showing him that for now she meant no harm, “Very well..” she said, “If it is a murderer you are searching for then I will personally take you back to our village so that you may speak with our elders on the matter. But prove to be no more than a savage just like the rest of humanity and I shall show you no mercy.” The moment she dropped the dagger to the ground a rustling in the trees from all around began to move, until at last darts were shot at all directions at the Witcher. There would be no possible way to avoid them even if he tried.
    The darts struck him, penetrating beneath all clothing he wore and even the skin, just deep enough to sedate him. “I will take you alive…but as my capture..”
     
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