The Hunter and The Hunted

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Vorian

pen-mxn-ship
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
  4. One post per week
Online Availability
4-10PM CT
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
Fantasy, Sci Fi, Modern, Magical, Dark Fantasy
500 AD. Great Britain is a balkanized conglomerate of various petty kingdoms fighting over control of ancient forests. The Roman Empire has been gone for 100 years and the Scottish highlands are still the home of pagan tribes. Christianity holds fast to its Roman foundations in England, yet still is the superstition and fear of the devil and his demons. Indeed these are dark time. WItches are burned at the stake, Picts raid Scottish frontier settlements, and there are rumors of a scourge on the Northern coasts. Communities huddle together for protection, connected by a shared church, who holds onto its power with unrelenting grip.

The query was a woman who had never seemed to be of any harm to anyone. But when the plague hit and the children started to pass, the signs pointed witchcraft. Realizing she had no chance to prove herself guilty or innocent, the woman ran. She ran into the misty dark wood of Medieval Britain.
The problem is, when you are wanted by the Catholic Church of England for witchcraft and murder, and you run, someone comes after you. Or rather, something. Coin changed hands, the trail was uncovered, and the hunter gave chase.

Multiple characters are welcome and appreciated, just provide a character skeleton in a PM if they are to remain long term parts of the story.

Originally one on one, but could be expended to a small group.

Magic is exceedingly rare, focusing instead on the superstitious realities of Medieval societies. The RP takes place in the 500's AD British Isles, predominantly in Southern Scotland/ Northern England.
 
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The cathedral's heavy oaken door shut with a thud behind him. Pulling his hood down low over his face in defense of the rain, the hunter counted the coin in his hands. He already knew the sum would be correct, having done business with the bishop before. Satisfied with the first half of the payment, the cloaked man walked briskly across the cobblestoned courtyard of York, the capital of Northumbria. Once outside the walls of the city, the stench of squalor began to dissipate. He waived away the stable boy offering a horse with a harsh stare, then disappeared into the haze of the British night.

Three days northward later, the man reached the outskirts of a village. This had been her home. If anyone would know which direction the witch had fled they would be here. The hunter waited on the outskirts of the forest until midday, then walked toward the chapel in the center of town. He knocked heavily on the door. It opened widely, a friar looking enthusiastic at having a visitor. The enthusiasm however quickly drained out of his face when the man presented the seal that signified his church-sanctioned business. Ushering him inside, the friar closed the door with a thud.

The sun set low in the sky before the hunter had finished questioning the friar about the witch. The door of the chapel opened and the hunter stepped out into the cool evening. Most of the townsfolk, guessing from the torchlight and music, were in the local tavern. Passing by with a sneer, the hunter walked up through the town to the witch's now-abandoned home on the edge of the pasture.

The house was modest, but well built. It look as if it was once well trafficked, with a well-beaten path to the front door and a small, now neglected garden visible around the side corner. the door opened easily into a living space well furnished for the midwife's trade. The hunter looked through the home, tossing through cabinets and shelves, even prying up a board in the floor. There was nothing in the house to indicate her being a witch, but, as he smiled to himself, that had never stopped the accusations before. He found the pantry was only lightly raided and many tools remained untouched in the cooking area and garden, the witch must have left in a hurry. Although he doubted she would be back for the forgotten things. He swept off the bed, laid down his heavy pack against the bedframe and went to sleep. He would begin the chase tomorrow. She had a week's head start, should be fun.
 
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