The Seed of Life

[Elle Joyner]

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The oak was hard beneath her fists, like solid stone, and with every crack against it, she could feel the agonizing crunch of the shattered bone in her littlest finger. Wooden splinters bit at her skin like small vermin-teeth and blood blossomed against the dark wood as her pounding became a desperate tattoo. To her side, the youngest of the Wardens reached out, clutched her arm, her voice tight and frantic, rising loud against Wyn's cries, "You have to run! Wynleth! You have to run! We'll hold it off as long as we can, but you have to--"

Screaming, panicked voices shattered the violent images in her mind, screaming and that oily, sinister command, her vision spinning as her world crashed between reality and memory. Simultaneously, she was in the cellar and back in the monastery, a collision of nightmarish visions that left her unable to focus, unable to move. Her stomach twisted, her heart slamming against the wall of her chest in increasingly agonizing throbs. Like heated lead, her legs melted out from beneath her and wavering, Wyn collapsed.

Hal had notice Wynleth's state, her form frozen as the rest of the group held back their own panic. "Wyn?" He had called to her, but she didn't respond. "Wyn? We need to go!"

The urgency fell on deaf ears, and her knees gave way. Hal quickly swooped down to catch her before she completely fell to the floor and grunted as he hoisted her up into his arms. "We need to make haste to the inn," he said to the rest. "Whatever is out there, only fight if you have to. Watch each other's backs!"

As he carefully balanced her in his arms, he cautiously moved up the ladder purely on his legs. The ladder led up into the back room of the apothecary. It was another area stacked with shelves with ingredients a little more common. Before exiting the back he looked down at Wynleth's unconscious form, shifting her weight in his arms with a little hop. He could carry her slowly across the square, but they both would be vulnerable to attack.

"Wyn," he said in a hushed and urgent tone. "Wyn, please, come on, wake up."

"There's an inn... You must go there, at once. Do not stop, do not return here. Wyn, it is of the uttermost importance that you are there are precisely the right moment! Do you understand? You have to do this! Wyn! Wyn? Wake up!"

Eyes snapping open, mind reeling, Wyn gasped, arms lashing, gripping at the hands holding her upright and for a moment she was claws and panic, pain blooming in her wrist as she pushed against that hold, terror in a faraway gaze. Then his face swam into view. Hal. Her Hal... Of course.

She wasn't back there... she'd never gone back. The monastery was gone. Gone, like Arun and the others. Gone like Remi and her father. Theresia. Taken by Shadow. Taken like the men and women of this village would be, if they didn't stop what was happening...

Hands folding around his arm she forced herself upright with a renewed urgency, "Charlie! He's... Did... we have to... The Seed..."

In her flailing, Hal almost dropped her, but she quickly brought herself back to the present, realization in her eyes as she stared up at Hal. He smiled somewhat back at her, relieved to see her awake and coming to, though the smile faded with the etched concern that wrinkled his forehead. He helped her back down to her feet gently, hands out to steady her if need be as she fumbled through her words.

"Yes," Hal said. "Charlie has the Seed. We have to leave the apothecary to get to the inn right across the square. Can you do this? Are you alright?"

Across the square...

Her breath caught in her throat as her mind unraveled against those words, tears burning, blurring her vision. Slowly, she turned her head in the direction he'd gestured and with a shiver, clenched tighter to his arm. Spinning round, she nodded, as firmly as she could make herself, "We have to keep it safe, Hal. No matter what. We cannot let them get a hold of it..."

"We won't," he assured as he brought his other hand over to give her hand a squeeze. He moved himself to the doorway and peered out the corner. The store front windows gave them a wide view of the ensuing chaos outside. It was as dark as night, yet it was only the afternoon. A wyvern swooped overhead, its tail crashing into the roof of the second story. He could hear the shingles crash down onto the cobblestone that merged with frightened screams.

"Hold onto me," he said as he drew his sword. "Are you ready?"

"Wyn, are you ready? You have to go, now! There's no more ti--"

"I can't!" She screamed, yanking her arm from Asa's grip, "I... I have to get in... Arun! He's still in there, I have to..."

"He's gone, Wyn. They all are. They were, before you got here..."

She had lost him. Arun. She had lost him, before she had even understood how much he mattered to her. In a split second, like a flare of light, a wisp of smoke, he was gone and she would never get another chance to tell him... She would never get another chance...

"Wait!" Rather suddenly, Wyn's hand shot out, gripping Hal's wrist and with a breath, she propelled herself forward, arms looping around his shoulders. For a second of silence, she hugged him, then stepped back, tears leaving streaks along her skin, she shook her head, "In case something happens... In case I don't... or you... Hal, I..."

But the words caught in her throat, caught on swollen emotion and jaw tight, chin trembling, she lowered her gaze.

He halted before he could turn, his eyes fixing on Wynleth once again with concern after the embrace. He searched her expression as she spoke, her words suggesting the possibility of not surviving. His mind clung to that notion as her eyes cast downward, voice trailing off with a guarded thought. He wished he could banish her worries and doubts. Days before, she had confessed to him her past in greater detail and the impact it had on her heart and soul. She lost a good friend to this Shadow threat, and it seemed like the trauma had a lasting effect.

"We will make it," Hal assured, and brought his lips to her forehead in a quick consoling kiss before pulling away with a reassuring smile. "We can do this. We stick together. Strength in numbers."

With a brush of warmth to her forehead, Wyn looked up again and shaking her head, she reached with her good hand, cupping his tightly, "...But if I don't. I... I need you to know. You... you are more dear to me, than I have words to express, and I am better for having known you."

Her hold on his hand lightening, she took a fortifying breath and nodded, "I'm ready..."

A small smile flickered endearingly upon his lips. "You are dear to me as well," he confessed, and then turned to the door to the main room of the apothecary. "Don't let go."

He rushed out of the back room, racing for the door with Wynleth in tow. The apothecary was empty and quiet, and as he threw open the door the sounds of agony and wails of dark creatures resounded wholly. There was a wyvern still before the inn, though it's head was within the street to its side. Hal continued forward with nothing but his sword and his courage. An inky black cloud flew past them in a rush that sounded like a flock of birds until a cloaked man manifested before the two. A hiss escaped the caster's pallid lips as he threw back his hood. Sunken eyes glared back at Wynleth and Hal as the sickly looking figure let loose an unholy scream, and from his mouth sprang forth a swarm of insects rushing towards the pair.

As the swarm propelled forward, Wyn's splinted hand rose, almost of it's own volition and from her palm a blast of ice, like splintering shards of a broken mirror, sprayed out across the onslaught, through the insects and towards the caster.

The shadowy insects burst upon impact with the shards in little pops as they flew towards the caster. Hal was already swooping low with his sword, and both blade and ice struck the Shadow Caster simultaneously. But it only seemed to stop the horrid spell. Hal's blade tore through his robes, and Wynleth's ice drew blood as pieces jutted from his skin, yet he continued on, a wreath of darkness suddenly surrounding him as he waved his hand through the air. Hal thrust his sword forward, but the Shadow Caster conjured a staff of darkness to deflect the attack. His hand jutted forth towards Wynleth's injured arm as a ball of violet energy hurtled towards the elf.

A second time, reaction came instinctively, but far less elegantly, her hands flying upwards protectively, perhaps a second or two too late. The Caster's spell hit like the force of a sledge hammer, and for a moment, Wyn felt pain like she had never experienced… Pain deep within, like being crushed internally. A scream escaped and clutching her arm to her chest, Wyn pulled back.

Hal felt her pull, though their hold on each other did not release. Hal looked back to make sure she was alright, her arm held protectively against her likely due to the Shadow Spell. The Shadow Caster swung his staff towards Hal's head, and he ducked and thrust his sword into the enemy's stomach. There was a grunt that hissed through the man's teeth, but Hal continued forward, his momentum driving his blade further until the Shadow Caster fumbled onto his back.

"Keep running!" he called to Wynleth. The inn wasn't much farther now.

Her eyes burned, her mind foggy from the brief intensity of the pain, from what had occurred… The Caster seemed more monster than man, but he was a living, breathing being… or at least he had been, and Wyn's heart ached that he had given them no choice. Pain rippled through her again, but this time, it was an emotional discomfort and gripping Hal tighter, needed almost desperately his strength, she nodded and pressed forward, her eyes tilted up, away from their fallen foe.

The Shadow Caster hadn't died, however and Hal knew it. Their one enemy was struggling to stand as more converged around them. Behind them as they ran a wyvern landed and rammed its head into one of the store fronts. Glass broke and shattered and gave way to distant screams. Most citizens were indoors by this point leaving their group the only ones left out in the open. Hal still ran forward, diverting their course a little to miss the tail of the beast blocking the entrance to the inn. The shadows surrounding them began to move.

"Head for the door!" Hal said as he paused. Looking behind Wynleth he could see more than just their one Shadow Caster converging on their group. Guiding her towards the stairs, Hal suddenly moved sluggishly until he fell completely unconscious at the foot of the inn, his body convulsing just as Charlie's had back in the Northern Mountains.

He dropped so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that Wyn's arm wrenched nearly out of it's socket. A sharp cry escaped, truncated as she released her grip on Hal's hand and turned back to see him. At the sight of him on the ground, she felt her heart shudder, stall…

"Hal!" The scream rose above the tumult in the square and collapsing beside him, she shook him, "No… no, no, no! Please! Hal… Wake up… Oh God, please wake up..."

There wasn't time. There were too many Casters…

Tears rolling down her cheeks, she hooked beneath Hal's underarms and with as much strength as she could muster, ignorant to the agony in her wrist, in her back and shoulders, she pressed back on her heels and using her own frame as leverage, hefted him backwards, one foot at a time, up the stairs. She hit the door and slamming her foot against it, kicked as hard as she could, once… twice… a third time, until wood splintered and the door swung inwards.

With a yelp, Wyn toppled over the doorjamb, landing hard on her backside, immediately inside the inn.

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TAGS: Collab with @Effervescent

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[Effervescent]

Hal Midigan​

The tavern and inn was empty as the two fell into its dark entrance. The wyvern's tail just outside crashed into a window to their left, its spikes catching the wood and pulling it from the nails that stuck them into the interior walls. So far the creature had not noticed them, or perhaps whatever was down the road was far too entertaining for it to care.

Hal's unconscious form tensed and writhed, and it was obvious a Shade had taken its hold on his mind. He was lost; unable to find his way back to the present as long as the otherworldly entity was inside his body.

The tangled roots of a massive tree twisted further as if alive, coiling around bodies like a snake. Black taint pulsed up through the trunk and out into the leaves that fell like fire in ominous hues of violet. Hal brought his hand to the World Tree and felt it dying in agony. A woman reached out and grabbed him by the neck, forcing him off his feet with unimaginable strength. Her hollow eyes peered into his as he grasped at her hand in attempts to loosen her tightening grip.

"What is your name?" she asked commandingly. Her tone was deep and dark. Hal did not respond, nor could he if he so wished. His wind pipe was closing far too much to even breathe.

"Hal Midigan," the woman said thoughtfully, and her hand released him. Hal fell for what felt like stories, his back slamming into the craggy earth below. His mouth opened in vain to take in air, but his lungs would not allow it.

"Hal Midigan," the woman repeated wistfully. "Hale..."

When he could finally breathe, his lungs took in air in a gasp, his hands falling from his chest. "What did you do to the World Tree?" he asked. The woman didn't respond. Her hollow eyes stared away at nothing. Rolling over, Hal hoisted himself to his feet warily. Her hand raised without looking, and with a flick of her wrist he was suddenly eviscerated.

The Shade pulled from his body in a blackened silhouette. As soon as it rushed from within Hal, he woke with a start and rushed to his feet. A nauseating dizziness overtook his senses, and he fumbled over onto a post near the door. "We have to stop them," he muttered.

It occurred so quickly, Wyn was almost certain she'd imagined it all. That in the recess of her mind somewhere she had willed a vision of him coming to, rising. She was certain that he lay dead, or dying... that madness had stolen all reason. That she would soon follow him to the afterlife. But then he spoke, and there was authority there, whole and sound, enough that she could not ignore the reality behind it. From her position on the floor of the inn, Wyn exhaled a sharp sob, "You... I thought... I thought you were dead..."

He was so disoriented from the ordeal, his shaking hands grasped at the air where his sword should have been. It had fallen from Hal's grasp when he went unconscious, and it only just dawned on him that he was now inside. Wynleth's voice sounded muffled in his mind. So distant as if she were underwater. His balance was still off as the room turned, and he leaned back onto the post for support. This must be the inn. There were still screams outside. There were bestial roars and claps of spells as violet light pierced through the darkness. "We have to..." Hal's voice trailed off. It felt strange to speak, and so he looked back at Wynleth where she sat. "Wyn?"

"I thought you were dead..." She repeated, dazed and quiet, a tear rolling off her chin, "I couldn't... I wouldn't leave you to them. I'll never let them have you."

"I'm alright," he assured, though he was too afraid to move from the post he leaned against. He gave himself a moment to slowly rock onto both feet before walking back to her. Hal crouched down to look at Wynleth, his fingers curling her wild blonde hair around her pointed ear as he regained his bearings. "I'm here. We're fine."

Reaching up, she clutched that hand tightly. It felt real enough, the gentle touch warming, soothing... and it would have to suffice. Nodding, she carefully struggled to her feet, pushing past the pain to rise fully, "We should keep going..."

Hal rose with her and kept his eyes on her with consideration. "I need to retrieve my sword. And we need to make sure the others make it. Charlie has the Seed of Life. Are you alright?"

"Hal, you..." He'd been hit. Like Charlie in the mountains, they had hit him. The signs had been unmistakable. Yet...

Charlie has the Seed.

Good, honest, gentle Charlie. Jaw tightening, hands balling into fists, Wyn nodded, "Right. Let's go..." Without another word, not entirely trusting her renewed resolve, she took his hand and made for the splintered door, back out onto the steps of the inn.

 

[JustAFed]

Azzara Omari & Trynten Lothorsen
Big Trouble in Little Lauderdine

His talk with Theresia had not been encouraging. Not in the least. It sounded in all honesty that he was irrevocably doomed to this existence: running, hiding, hunting. Alone. The wooden doorframe thunked quietly as Trynten laid his head against it. There was a solution, of course. But he wouldn't, he couldn't, ask that of her. To be a lifelong devotee to subdue his predatory urges, or worse, to separate her from her Inner Lighy entirely.

No, he thought, arms crossing in determination. Eyes downcast, shadowed by the locks unkempt hair that overhung his face, he seemed to hear little of whatever conversation was going on. I shall keep myself as apart from those here, and when this is all over, I shall return to Eversyth and continue my life in the trees.

Conviction, a distinctly unfamiliar feeling for the woodsman, settled in his heart. But his eyes strayed to Hal and Wyn, and he felt a small ache in his heart all the same.

As the conversation shifted from Azzara's lead, she spared a glance back to Trynten. His mood had seemed to only darken in the moment that she'd spared to look at the map. She wanted nothing more than to talk with him. If he wasn't coming, or if their group was to split again, then she wanted confirmation of her suspicions at the least. And there was no time like the present.

As the other conversed between each other, she quietly shortened the gap between them to a step and a half. "You alright? Looks like you've just about seen a ghost." She asked, once again wearing a warm smile. "Nervous about getting on a flying death trap?"

So deeply was Trynten internalizing the debate with himself, when Azzara broke the silence so close to him, he fairly jumped four feet into the air. Hands came up defensively, and his jaw set grimly before he realized just who it was that had spoken to him. Air rushed through his nostrils in his panic, and his eyes were wide with fright. Only once he saw peripherally who it was did he relax.

"Uh-" Damn. He'd not expected her to talk to him so soon. Arms crossed again, almost subconsciously, and he shook his head. "Yes. Most definitely I am. At least with a boat, one is only feet above the water. But high above the waves? In the clouds? If we had to abandon ship for some reason, where would we go?"

Tryn paused. It seemed at every moment someone was asking after him, making sure that he was doing well.

"But what about you? I'm glad to see you and the others accomplished your goals! Honestly, I had little hope that you would."

He trailed off, unable to stop himself from ending on a more negative note. Perhaps, no, hopefully Azzara would find a better tone for their conversation.

Azzara's smile faltered as she crossed her arms, the wound to her side deciding to smart at the movement. "The Orcs treat their airships like their babies. If something goes wrong, we'll be down to a survivable level before we can't keep it afloat anymore. If you'd ask me, you'd have a better chance of being struck by lightning." She paused for a moment and smirked. Or surviving a tainted attack.

But now it was her who would give pause when asked about her journey. "It was, challenging. As it turned out, a shade was following us, embedded in Charlie. I managed to pull it from him and keep us from disaster before even reaching the seed. We got separated after we found the Seed at The Mouth. From there, me and Tza got into quite the tussle. But I can save that story for our journey to come. The only thing worse than dying above the clouds is being bored above them." She finished with a chuckle and glance back towards the rest of the group. "Our group is rather capable though. I didn't expect the other three to return in one piece either. I held more hope for you and Inara at least. "

"But..we're all here now." She turned back to Trynten and bit just inside of her bottom lip. No time like the present. With all of her built up resolve, she looked Trynten in the eyes and spoke. "And I'm more curious on whether you remember who I am or not."

Tryn smiled, if perhaps faintly. She would approach it like that, ask that question. It's what had made traveling with her for that small time so...engaging. Always ready to speak her mind, and never one to mince words.

"What kind of question is that?" Eyes still downcast but still smiling. "Of course I remember you. One doesn't stab a Tainted through the chest in the rescue of someone and forget who they rescued."

Azzara's smile brightened at his confirmation of their past. She exhaled a laugh and shook her head. "I'll admit, I didn't completely connect the dots until our groups had already split. But when I did, well let's just say I had some more motivation to get back in one piece. Never thought I'd see you again to be honest."

She nodded towards Tryn's chest. "You still have that old necklace I gave you?"

The necklace.

He almost, almost reached up to touch the place under his shirt where it used to hang. That old necklace, Azzara called it offhandedly, as if referring to the bit of jewelry like she didn't care for it. But Tryn had the distinct feeling she did actually, and that it's loss would be something of a blow to her. Their travel from Maldvir to Eversyth had been...well, if felt like ages ago, and in that time the woodsman had experienced several...loses of control. Who could say where the thing now lay, or indeed, when Tryn had even lost it at all? He grimaced, and his face fell.

"I...I don't, Azzara. I'm so sorry." The air felt so oppressive, as if his guilt pressed in upon him, and he felt his shoulders bow a little. "You gave me that in trust, hoping that one day we'd meet again, and I-"


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̫̭̣̥̯̳̱̇͑̐͘G̜͋ͧ́͘ĭ͚̤̜̤͉̟͟ͅv͍̺̭͉͈̏ͮ̾̓̚͘eͦͮ͏ ̯̙̝͐͆ͥ͋̀u̯̗͉̹͓̲̜ͭ͟s̞̻͔̬̬̺͡ ̷̗̩͓̒͆͌͗̈́ͯ͑t͆̓̓̔h̪̼̗̺̭̹̮ͯe̒͋̿͛͛͆̓ ̧̏ͯ̽ͯS͎͋e̅ͨe̘͔̙̭̮̽͛ͥ́̊̋̀d͕̼͉̻̱͔͌ͯ̏̐ ͚͕̜̦͎ͪ̋ͧ́̚o̻͇̗̦͂͒̓ͬf̮̝̹͚͔̰͐́ͧ͑̉̇̚ ̖̻̗ͫ̑L͈͓̋͐̊ȉ̏̆ͯ̌̃ͪ͠f̨͉̻̜̦ͬ̔̅͒͒̂͊e͙̬̜̤ͮ̐̈́̄̎ͭ̒͝.ͫͬͪ̄ͤ͏͈͇


With the voice came darkness, oppression, despair. Horror took hold of his mind and his heart in a vise-like grip, squeezing and twisting evilly. His vision swam, and he collapsed to his knees, bruising both but blind to the pain. As conscious observation of his surroundings failed him, Tryn espied Theresia just as she disappeared. His mouth fell open, and a grating Nooooo! escaped his lips. But she was gone. With her went perhaps the one individual who could truly help him, or at the least, knew and sympathized with precisely his inner turmoil. His sight swam and faded to black as he became dead to the world...

Creatures? Chittering, grasping, crawling things, all about him! They overwhelmed his youthful strength, casting him to the ground with their numbers before dragging him away into the evil eaves of the neighboring forest and away from the pile of half-split logs. Screaming. No, not screaming; the bastards had rammed something down his throat, something wet. But he screamed all the same.

Tryn pitched forward, no voluntary balance to hold him upright as he relived his past in his terror.

"Tryn.." Azzara wanted to cut him off. Tell him that it was okay. The Talisman was made of wood and couldn't last forever, she'd make him a new one. But instead, calamity struck when she rightly had been expecting it. The dark voice that echoed from behind her gave her a start and she was able to turn around just long enough to watch Theresia be sucked into the darkness.

Trynted screamed behind her and suddenly the building's owner came rushing down to tell them that the enemy had come. The Shadow Army. Her world was spinning, and yet she found herself supporting the sudden weight of Trynten behind her. "Oh, blood hell!" She yelled, hooking her arms under his to keep him steady. "Don't go passing out on me like that!"

Everyone was beginning to file out after them, their bearer of bad news had been quick to go as quick as he'd came, map in tow. They'd needed that map, and Azzara would've gone after him if she wasn't buys hauling a large Thall towards the ladder. It took all of her strength to heave him up the steps going backwards. She had to lean him against the wall when they reached ground level and she did her best to ignore the chaos thriving just outside the building. With her arms free she gave him a healthy slap against the cheek in an attempt to wake him. "Trynten! Get up you sorry excuse for a woodsman!"

Cold steel, bitterly cold, like Death himself, encircled his wrists and ankles. Awareness came back like the shock of freezing water, and damn the Maker that it did. Pain wracked his shoulders and hips, agony pouring into his brain from every concealable faucet. His world was pain: limbs out of joint, hellishly freezing shackles binding him to whatever platform those damnable chitterlings had mounted him to, and gods the spikes damn the gods the spikes protruded from his heart and his stomach. An animalistic fright, the fright of prey before the apex predator, consumed him as he lay restrained, and his gaping mouth let loose an unearthly howl of madness.

Tryn lay propped against the wall where Azzara had lain him, oblivious to everything and motionless, save for a continuous moan that struggled loose through a clenched jaw. The crack of skin on skin sliced briefly through the stifling chaotic noise before being overwhelmed by it as the Maldviri woman slapped him across the face. A solid red mark appeared on his cheek before slowly beginning to fade again. For his part, the Thall didn't move. Whatever was happening in his head had rendered him little better than a sack of potatoes.

Trynten didn't respond to her slap or her words and remained unconscious. Outside, the attack was only worsening and the tendrils of panic began to creep into her mind. She couldn't just leave him here, but they had to get to safety. Azzara thought back to Charlie's episode and wondered if a shade had taken him, except he was motionless.

"Damn it all." She muttered, before lifting up Tryn's upper garments past his stomach. "Hopefully we live long enough for you to forgive me for this." She pressed her free hand against his stomach and let forth a stream of light in an attempt to pull whatever shadow might lay inside of him.

Hell was not bad enough. HELL WAS NOT BAD ENOUGH. Nothing existed apart from his pain; the world was pain, breath was pain, thinking was pain, seeing was pain. Vaguely he heard the chants of beasts around him speaking the damned tongues of the underworld. Digging talons pressed into his flesh, piercing it but drawing no blood but adding to the chorus of agony that filled him. This. This was the pinnacle of pain.

He was wrong.

Blackness, corruption, twisting TAINTING OF THE SOUL blasted across his being. Through the dim consciousness his pain allowed him, he sensed him losing himself to it. Losing. Fading. Worse than dying THESE BASTARDS' FAULT I'LL KILL THEM THEY'LL DIE FOR WHAT THEY'VE PERVERTED ME INTO

For the rage that now took him was strangely focused; it was determined, resolute and obsessed with destroying utterly those that had caused him so much pain. And so much sorrow.

But it did not remove it, and it possessed Trynten's body as he lost almost all awareness. Once outside, he fell forward, sprawling on the ground like a dead man. His form was already shifting, changing. Growing. Jet black hair began sprouting from every inch of his body, and increasingly monstrous muscles bulged and twisted underneath his straining skin. Ebony claws, razor sharp and wickedly long, shot out from his fingertips as they themselves snapped and expanded into beastial paws. His face elongated into a wide snout, and fangs as evil looking as the claws pushed out from the beast's lips. His clothing was now shreds, and it fell to the ground uselessly.

Suddenly it seemed as though the changing stopped, and the Thing That Was Tryn stood upon its four legs. Inky tendrils of Shadow streamed out from his form. Shadow Casters, began stepping away slowly from the hulking form, now standing an easy six feet at the shoulder and a good ten feet in length. Great breaths rushed in and out through the beast's nose as it steadied itself until finally the breathing stabilized. The noise in the immediate area ceased, as if no one wanted to draw its attention.

Like a flash it's eyes opened wide, and hellish red orbs glared out from the wolf-like skull. With a roar befitting the hounds of the underworld, the Tainted launched forward upon the nearest Shadow Caster and bite him cleanly in half.

Where Azzara was looking for an inkling of shadow magic, she found a flood. She'd just given up her search when it sprung forth and with it came back Trynten. The surge of magic and man put Azzara onto her back and she found herself looking on, bewildered, as he burst into the outside world.

Confusion quickly turned to fear as she watched the man she knew to be Trynten cease to be. In his place was the monstrosity that was a Tainted. Everything stopped in the moments after the transformation and as if following some unspoken cue, he lashed out at the nearest shadow caster. She held no love for the agents of shadow, but she winced at the fact that so long ago she'd have suffered the same fate.

The revelation of Trynten's true nature left many questions in Azzara's mind, ones that she intended to get answer for. Now she was glad that the burden of the Seed was taken from her. Shakily, she stood and drew her blade and exited the building. While he had made short work of on caster, they were all still grossly outnumbered and it would not be long before they were smothered in the darkness. A pair of casters looked on to the display from the middle of the street just ahead of her, oblivious to the Maldvir's presence. Before they could regain their wits, she rushed the one closest to her and stuck them through the neck with her blade, ensuring they couldn't escape the focused blast of light she unleashed onto their soul. If her power had waned, she'd have to put all her power into close range attacks.

The gargled cries of their companion shocked the other caster into action. Spinning, they sent a blast of dark magic at her, only to have to harmlessly collide and dissipate against her shoulder. Azzara gripped the clothing of the first caster and shoved him towards the second, using the momentum to yank her sword from his flesh. The wound in her side flared but up she paid it no mind as she rushed the second and hit the second with another blast of light. The caster crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain until Azzara unleashed another close range blast from just beside them. With the immediate threat to her taken care of, she turned to find Trynten...or whatever he was.

Danger be damned, she couldn't let Trynten get himself killed having just reconnected with him. She'd have to turn him back and get him to the Inn before it was too late. And any shadow caster that got in her way would meet their end.

 

[Doctor Jax]

INARA, CHARLIE, & TZA'HAL GO FORTH
Dragon Tales, Dragon Tales...

Tza'Hal had had an inkling that something bad was probably going to happen when the tapestry suddenly went blank. Typically, when something suddenly changes through no other means than magic (or some dark version thereof), things were going to get… unpleasant. The orc staggered backward as Theresia was rudely yanked away from them into a vortex of shadow, and she spluttered curses as it became apparent to all that they had indeed been found out.


She should have known their good fortune was not Fortune's work at all. Immediately, she turned to Charlie, realizing that he was the main priority now that he had the Seed. While she didn't want everybody else stuffed, the whole world was going to end up shafted if anything happened to him while the Seed was in his possession.


"Move it out! We can't stay here! Follow the shopkeeper!" she grunted as she shoved Inara and Charlie forward towards the back of the cellar.


One second Charlie was speaking with Hal and the next, fear swallowed the room whole before shadow had even hit it. That voice was one of the most terrifying things Charlie had ever heard. It sent cold chills down his spine as his posture tensed -- no, no, no.. couldn't it just.. Couldn't it have just been peaceful for one more moment? Theresia was gone in an instant, and all that was left was the empty map in her wake. Give us the Seed of Life, the dark voice had chanted. Oh, Charlie realized. I'm holding the Seed of Life.


"We need to make haste to the inn," Hal shouted above the chaos. "Whatever is out there, only fight if you have to. Watch each other's backs!"


Tza'Hal shoved him, shouting instructions and making Charlie flinch as he moved to the back of the cellar. "Tza'Hal," Charlie said, firmly but shakily all at the same time, stopping so that Tza'Hal moved in front of him. "Don't shove me, please." He murmured, clutching the Seed tightly to his chest. It was his job, to protect it.


Charlie took another step closer to Tza'Hal and nudged her arm, gesturing for her to loop it around his shoulder. Her leg still had a hole poked through it and if he was gonna protect the Seed, then Charlie was gonna protect everyone else, too. "Wrap your arm around my shoulder, I'll help you walk." Charlie took a breath, calming his shakiness, looking back to Inara. "Let's go."


A fate worse than death.


Gooseflesh rippled across her skin and she froze body and soul. Inara gaped at the hole in the cellar where Theresia had just stood and then frantically searched the apothecary. Half of their company seemed to have vanished after the arrival of the white haired gentleman who'd originally ushered them all in. Theresia must have told him what they carried… and of its importance. Though the haunting voice was now gone from her mind, Inara could hear screams from the citizens of Lauderdine and whispers emanating from the growing fog outside.

Glancing around the apothecary once more, Inara realized that only two of Shae Pippa's company remained. Charlie and Tza'Hal. One injured and one who held the fate of the world in his hands. She didn't have time to worry about Tryn - the orc shoved her and the world fell back into place. With a prayer to the Maker for not only his safety, but everyone else's, Inara nodded at Tza and Charlie, making her way towards the back of the cellar, grabbing here and there among the shelves and shoving the contents deep within her pack.


She looked back as she climbed the stairs, forming a strategy as she did so. "Charlie, you must stay with Tza at all times, I will lead the way and circle back as we get closer to the inn."


Inara swallowed her fear and looked the orc directly in her eyes. "Do not let him go. Do not stop running. Yell and I will be there."


The orc, meanwhile, had also been busy pillaging the apothecary of whatever goods she could find after seeing the wyverns outside. And that blasted whispering… Her leg twinged with every step, and she was reminded that right that moment, she was the weakest link. She locked eyes with Inara as well as the healer dug around for what she needed.


"You don't need to tell me twice, healer, I'll lash him to my back if need be," she said as she ransacked the apothecary's shelves in search of a particular-- There it was! A well sealed pot with the words Pearson Leaf, the exact thing she wanted. Wyverns were like to go after things that smelled like meat, and Pearson Leaf unfortunately had the aroma of meat that had been left in the sun for one too many days. Good for cooking a Baladuri soup, bad for a kitchen with no wind.


She grabbed hold of Charlie's shoulder with the whole pot of leaves under her arm. By the Divine, her leg hurt something awful. The arrowhead was perhaps trying to work itself out now, a real poor time to do it. She grit her teeth regardless.


"This may give us a distraction, but it will be short-lived. We'll have to run it as fast as we can," Tza'Hal warned, her countenance dark. It was more than likely she would have to push Charlie ahead, because with her leg as it was, it was unlikely she'd make it too much farther at a run. "Boy, you'd best blast anything in front of you that's got more than one leg."


Inara and Tza'Hal sounded so level-headed and strong, while Charlie was trying to figure out how to get his hands to stop shaking so he wouldn't drop the Seed. Slipping it gently but still a bit hastily into his satchel bag, keeping it hidden but protected, he focused on stabilizing Tza'Hal and getting out. All they needed to do was run across the way to the Inn. That was all. It could be done.


Tza's face seemed more twisted with pain than it had been before, and it only made Charlie more nervous. "Y-yes. Okay. I'll blast stuff. Promise." He murmured. They were making their way up out of the cellar now, and he gritted his teeth with a look of determination.


"You know, I carried this other old lady back at the Mountain --"


"You must have misspoken, because I know you did not mean to say I am an old lady."


"W-wh-what? I didn't say th-that. Ahaha. Ha."


When they finally got outside, Charlie really wished they hadn't. It was an absolute mess, of -- of.. God, it was just a mess. People were screaming and there were dragons -- were they dragons? -- everywhere, gnawing on people while they still squirmed. Casters filled every square inch and all around, it was chaos. Charlie raised a hand in preparation to blast just as he'd been told.


Darkness clung to Lauderdine like the taint that caressed Theresia's neck. Like the purple-black Sickness that spread and grew from her mother's chest. Inara felt her stomach drop at the sight of such destruction, of such darkness, of death that was surely to come. Lightning flashed against the backdrop of clandestine clouds and from it, Casters of Shadow. Yet they weren't the only creatures of darkness… wyverns flew and dived as the people of Lauderdine ran for their lives. Inara's eyes bulged and her pulse quickened. She'd never seen one with her own eyes but there were many of tomes on the beasts in Eversyth. The streets were emptying quickly and stragglers would be easily spotted. Inara took a deep breath and called to her magic.


Across the cobblestone way, inside the inn whose left window was just shattered by a wyvern's tail, provided the only hope for survival. Between their salvation and where they currently stood was a hellstorm of darkness. Charlie became her main priority, he had the Seed of Life, and with it, the world's beacon of light against the encroaching Shadow. She glanced over her shoulder, feeling the magic surge within her, and eyed the half-elf Sur. Slung against his form was Tza, who Inara was increasingly growing fond of. Maker's will if they lived, Inara would befriend the grizzled orc. She eyed the pot of leaves under her arm, wondering if she meant to cause a diversion.


"That pot," She said to Tza'Hal. "A distraction, yes?" Inara didn't wait for an answer, the quicker they moved, the faster they'd get to that basement. "We both cast diversions in the opposite direction. Then you get Charlie to that inn." Her gaze sought the pandemonium outside while fear and magic coalesced inside her. "I'm no healer Tza… and Charlie," Inara said with a small smile, "Only blast what's in your way. Your life is most precious. Don't stop and do not look back."


And then she walked out into the dark.


Tza'Hal felt her stomach drop as the woman walked out into the fog that surrounded the town, ready to unleash her own magic upon the casters that were no doubt on their way. She could see their forms coalescing from the shadows of fog, and she knew their time was running short. As Inara stepped out, Tza'Hal let go of Charlie long enough to hurl the pot into the street in the opposite direction. Farther down, it broke and the pervasive smell of ripe meat met their noses even from almost fifty paces away. Curious wyverns flocked to it, curious to see what new food this was, and Tza'Hal once more hobbled back to Charlie.


"Let us go!" she urged. "They're not going to be happy when they found out it's just leaves."


That thing smelled absolutely putrid. But it definitely looked like it was serving its purpose, as the wyverns began to curiously cock their heads towards the scent. Charlie nodded at Tza's words and as quickly as he could move them both towards the inn. The image of Inara walking so confidently into the dark had shake him quite considerably, but he knew that with her strength he should not worry. That's what he told himself, at least.


Tza'Hal was heavy but that was the least of his problems as he desperately tried to avoid the gaze of anything close or anything coming closer, his palm still raised, even though Inara had told him only to blast things in his path.


Magic pulsed within her; fear, adrenaline, and survival instincts kicked into overdrive and made her see. Her bow hung from a shoulder, quiver having been belted to her waist after the innkeep had returned them. For now, she wanted her hands free of obstruction as she held onto the magic inside her. The cobblestone street was silent as her heart thundered between her ears and her stomach clenched with fear. Then from somewhere behind her Inara heard Tza shout and hoped that her distraction pot had worked.


As for her distraction… Inara glanced around, unsure of which enemy she should be distracting. There were so many in her line of sight, but thankfully, most seemed focused elsewhere. For the briefest of moments, Inara closed her eyes against the darkness and focused on her magic, on what she desired. She snapped them open and from every pore magic radiated.


Then a flash of lightning rent across the sky not twenty yards in front of her. From the purple bolt a caster cloaked in black strode forth, straight towards her. She didn't dare look behind her, to see if Charlie and Tza were making their way towards the inn. Inara called and her magic answered. She reached with her magic, across the cobblestone road and loose rock and sand trembled at the touch. What came next was so instinctive she didn't question it's potency.


Her arms splayed to her sides and rose gently in the air. As she did, small rocks, sand, and loose cobblestone rose as well. As a dancer might, Inara twisted her arms in a circular fashion, urging the earth to follow her lead. They obeyed swiftly, creating a funnel of earth that rose from the ground at her feet and swelled greedily; more and more bits of earth flew to the funnel every moment. Strands of hair whipped angrily against her face as the manipulated earth grew in intensity. Inara waited, controlling the circulating earth as the Shadow Caster stalked towards her.


Farther ahead of Inara, Tza'Hal turned her head to watch in slight awe as a maelstrom of earth and dirt formed a funnel before her. Whereas she was apt to think of magic-users as soft in the head as well as the spine, she had to admit that it took quite a bit of clout to pull up half the street and throw it at a Shadow Caster.


Her ankle twisted under her as she was dragged ahead, and with a cry, she fell to a single knee. Her injured leg spasmed for a moment, and the pain lanced up her thigh and into her spine. She glanced over to the wyverns who were distracted by the pot of rotten-smelling leaves, only they were no longer distracted. She grit her teeth as she realized she was slowing Charlie down.


"Go. Go! Go ahead! I will be fine! Get to the others, Inara can handle this!" Tza'Hal ordered gruffly as she tried to stand up.


Charlie hadn't known it, but as he walked, every step was harder and harder, and with every movement his eyes began to water and slowly tears began to fall from his face. The boy was absolutely terrified, more so than he cared to admit. Inara was behind them, fighting a caster all by herself, and on his shoulder was Tza, who could barely even walk. Who even knew what was happening to the rest of the group, though it was safe to say that it just couldn't be good. And he was so, awfully, terrified for all of them, for everything in the future and everything that had already occurred in the past and the entire world was on their shoulders, all of it, all of it and --


Tza had fallen and she was screaming at him to run. Tears sped down his cheeks as he shook his head miserably, trying one more time to lift her up again, but with no such luck. "I-'ll c-come r-right back, I p-p-promise." He stuttered, and then darted off. Tza'Hal watched him go with a sigh of relief, resignation weighing on her shoulders as she looked over at the wyverns that were now turned towards her. They screeched, and she spit before her.


Wyn and Hal stood right out front of the Inn, looking as if they were preparing to move again. He was running so fast Charlie nearly crashed right into them. Even though his bag hung loosely under his arm he clutched it tightly with one hand, specifically the cloth inside that covered the Seed, and in the other he'd already pulled out the pointed bone that was now his weapon.


"Inara's f-f-fighting a c-caster and Tz-Tza is j-just -- she made me leave her, I couldn't -- couldn't c-carry her and -- " Charlie sniffed heavily, sucking in snot and then wiping his eyes roughly with his arm.

 

[Effervescent]

The soles of his boots clapped against the wooden steps of the inn that led down to the cobblestone square. Theresia's vardo was overturned and across the street from where it once stood. There was an unmistakable crunch and grind that caught Hal's attention as he slowed his pace. The wyvern in the street was hunkered over, transfixed by its recent prey it so eagerly bit into. Through the gap between its body and its winged arm Hal could see the bloody remnants of a person now long gone and barely distinguishable. He felt nauseous, not just by the sight alone, but that his actions brought this fate to some innocent person. He felt directly responsible for the death of whoever it was who had fallen.

His feet stumbled a bit as he saw Charlie rushing towards him. The utter chaos behind the half-elf struck Hal with guilt. Inara churned the earth into the air. Wyverns circled above and swooped down into other streets behind the line of buildings. He could see Tza'Hal and Azzara in the fray as Shadow Casters converged. But the Shadow Casters were not focused on the entirety of the group. They were following Charlie.

All but a few. The Shadow Caster before Inara kept his focus on the elf, a snarl upon his thin lips as he weathered through her debris. Earth Magic was always more physical, and so it pierced through his Wreath of Shadow with ease. Sand threatened his sight and pebbles knocked at his body, but he raised his hands defiantly in return, and with a flick of his wrist magic shot towards Inara in a stream of violet light; a beam of Shadow that, upon impact, would feel as though she were being ripped from the inside out. A larger piece of cobblestone struck the Shadow Caster's head before he could channel his magic further than a second or two, his balance thrown off enough to leave him vulnerable.

During this, the wyverns' attentions waned from the potted plant. Their snouts searched through the leaves, unable to comprehend why the smell did not match what was there. And once they discovered that there was no meat to be had, they turned away and to other things, their curiosity taking them to homes and other streets. Though one meandered towards Tza'Hal, her cry of pain catching its interest.

At the very same moment there came a deep sound akin to a horn, and bright blue wards glistened above Lauderdine like a shield. The Caster before Inara shot his attention upward, his body suddenly forming into a black cloud that rushed up into the sky. The cloud hit the wards and knocked the Caster down to the ground harshly.

The wyvern gave a shrill croak of a call as it crawled towards Tza'Hal. Other wyverns above flew in and out of the wards with ease. It seemed the only thing it was blocking was Shadow Magic, and that was enough to mute the madness a considerable degree for no Caster or Shade could come in or out. Those trapped within made their stand with a fury, their bodies like clouds of ink in water as they rushed through the air to ground themselves near the inn.

Hal was snapped out of his stupor, and he swooped down to grab his sword from the grass. "Charlie, get inside," Hal commanded. "Go and find the passage and get out."

Arrows whistled through the air and struck the wyvern closest to Tza'Hal. An angry cry escaped the beast, its head craning back with the pain, though it did not stop it entirely. Out of seemingly nothing, hooded figures emerged adorned in enchanted leathers that glowed with a blue hue. Despite their attire being as black as night, it was evident by the Arcane runes that glowed upon their armor and weapons. Inara would recognize them as the band of Naveri Tainted Hunters from the woods, and so would Trynten were he not in such a compromised form.

"Tainted!" Madras called out as she rolled to the side. Her fingers slipped into her quiver to retrieve an arrow, knocking it within her bow as she aimed towards Trynten in his horrific form. Her companions followed suit as they took aim only to have Shadow Casters manifest before them. It was as though they wished to protect Trynten despite his attacks, and so ensued a melee among the magics. Their blades tangled with Shadow and flesh, drawing blood as their wards expertly deflected the brunt of their attacks. Each Shadow attack caused their armor to flicker in brilliant azure where it impacted, though the glow became more and more dull with each spell.

Aggravated by the magically poisoned arrowheads, the wyvern hunkered and screeched as it turned back towards Tza'Hal. Its spiked tail thrashed towards the Naveri, impaling one before swooping it further down the square. Its teeth gnashed and snapped towards the Orc as it crawled towards her. What a delicious looking morsel she appeared, and it began to salivate with its prospects.

The Shadow Casters advancing towards the inn began to run until they burst into their clouded form. Hal readied his sword as he rounded the wyvern's tail, though in the excitement the beast turned towards the commotion. And so his own steel met with Shadow, their conjugations parrying his blows as they struck at him with their dark magic. He would surely need help, otherwise he would be overwhelmed by the converging enemies. The wyvern closest snapped its jaws and squawked towards Charlie and Wynleth as it lumbered awkwardly into position to strike at them with its gnashing teeth bloodied by its previous victim. And then suddenly Hal and the Shadow Casters were engulfed in a black void; the very same blackness Wynleth would recall from the Monastery.

Inara's conflicts were all but over. While her initial attacker lay flat on the ground in a slow death due to his harsh fall from the sky, other Shadow Casters intervened to replace their weaker comrade. They stood outside the swirl of sand and stone with menacing gazes, likely to assess the Sur's magic before advancing. Their hands raised in tandem, fingers splayed as they both conjured orbs of violet energy that expanded with a turn of their hands. And with a thrust the orbs went careening towards Inara with the force of cannonballs. Should they penetrate her funnel of earth magic, the spells would hit her two fold. One orb would feel just like she were being hit by a cannonball, only through mental affliction that would be enough to cause her to double over or perhaps stun her lungs from breath for a moment. The other orb would strike fear through her mind like an overwhelming attack of anxiety that would cause momentary paralysis through shock.

Help came a moment too late for Inara. Out of the dissipating fog came another figure, similar in nature to the Naveri, yet strikingly different in every manner. Instead of being adorned in dark leathers, he wore more earthen hues still enchanted with Arcane. He wore no hood or cowl, openly presenting his narrow face and pointed ears to the world without shame. His long hair whipped about as he expertly thrashed towards one of the Shadow Casters, catching them both unaware. This elf looked like nothing from the Allied Kingdoms, nor did he fight like one. From his strange blades arced his Arcane magic that sliced into the Caster until the Wreath of Shadow emerged around her frame. She thought she had the upper hand as his magically enforced attacks rebounded, but a sudden burst of what looked to be Inner Light negated her efforts enough to let his blade through once again to strike between her ribs and drive her to the ground. The remaining Shadow Caster was now split between two elves, though his focus remained more in line with Inara as his partner was engaged with the stranger.

Overhead a wyvern flew down into the commotion near Azzara and snapped at the Maldviri as if to toy with her. It croaked and lapped its tongue in a hiss, ready to strike at any sudden movements. Those still near the apothecary now dealt with two wyverns along with the Shadow Casters. Their magic swirled and churned through the air with each vibrant blast of purple, their spells laced with pain and mental suffering. The Naveri hunters used their enchanted weapons both physically and magically as Arcane burst through the darkness. Their allies were great enough in number to begin to quell the threat trapped within Lauderdine's magical wards.

"Handle the Tainted!" Sosa called out as he thrust his knives into his opponent. "Kill the bastard!"

It was only a matter of time before one of the elves could manage to disengage from their Shadow foes. The Shadow Casters put up a fight and were expertly attempting to situate the Naveri within the path of the wyvern's tail. They kept vigilant in their awareness of their surroundings, and so their dance carried into the square's modest park. The way to the inn was opening up. All that was left for the group to handle were a few stragglers and the wyverns. The one attacking Tza'Hal became sluggish with each second, and beyond the dark void was the wyvern attacking Wynleth and Charlie.

@Red Thunder @fyrelily @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @SpaceCowboyEin @Doctor Jax

 

[Elle Joyner]

[bg=#B8904D]

---

Chaos erupted around them like bursts from a canon, so quick and loud, impossible to concentrate on. Through the screams, the shouting and shrieks of the Wyverns, something else bellowed… something terrible and dark, something Wyn decidedly had no desire to come across. The others were nowhere to be found, but surely they had to be out there, somewhere… She could make out figures in the darkness, moving swiftly, flashes of heliotrope and bursts of light, but no one looked familiar anymore, fear overwhelming focus.

Rather suddenly, Charlie burst from the bedlam, moving so swiftly, with such urgency that he nearly took Wyn off her feet as he came flying at the steps. Reaching out, she caught hold of him, grimacing at the pang in her wrist, but without a word, ignoring the injury, she yanked him to her in a merciless embrace. He clutched tightly still the bag he'd placed the Seed into, and while she was initially grateful to see him and it both relatively out of harm's way, hearing his words, noting his solitary nature brought her little relief.

The Seed was their mission. The Seed meant everything. But she had said it to Hal before, repeated it to his mother… The world wasn't worth saving unless there were good, decent people to fill it with. They could not abandon the others.

A sound filled the air, the sound of a horn and straightening, Wyn watched half in awe as the square was suddenly filled again. These were faces unfamiliar, but they weren't Shadow and that was all that mattered.

Hal retrieved his sword and standing at the ready, he painted a picture of surety that along with their present company gave her a sense of confidence. Confidence that faded at the sight of the streets were painted red, a violent nightmare. Heart shaken, Wyn found herself uttering a prayer that any of them might make it out alive. Relinquishing her crushing hold on Charlie, edging him just slightly behind her, she looked to Hal, eyes wide and bright, a blazed determination behind their blue light, as she nodded at his instructions.

He wanted Charlie inside and she was going to do everything possible to ensure that happened…

Or at least that was the plan… The Casters, however and all at once it seemed, began to converge on the Inn until they were a literal fog, moving towards Hal. He raised his sword, and Wyn took a step towards him to lend aid when like a curtain drawn across time and space, utter blackness surrounded him and the others.

The scream that erupted from her was primal. To the right of her, the Wyvern swooped low, scrambling forward towards her and Charlie. Wyn's eyes twisted swiftly away from the terrible oblivion, an untapped fury darkening her irises, her pupils swelling until her gaze was nearly as black as the mass of space Hal was swallowed by. The air around her shifted, thickened, the temperature dropping and arms snapping outward, her fingers splayed wide as a second cry raged from her throat. From her palms shot shards of ice thick and long as daggers, propelling without quarter towards the beast. They struck at it's chest and flank, one after the other and the Wyvern screeched wildly, throwing back it's head, jaw wide, snapping towards the sky. Inky blood blossomed from the wounds inflicted in it's thick hide, and the screech turned into a howl as the creature backed away from further projectiles assailing it, an amalgamation of thick chunks of hail and icicles sharp as steel blades. With a great flick of it's wings, the Wyvern swept upwards, hovering for a moment with a proportionate uncertainty at the foot of the steps.

---

TAGS: @Effervescent, @Cloudily @Atherapistcausewynisnothavingagoodday

[/bg]

 

[Doctor Jax]

Tza'Hal
Lumin of the Order of the Lynx

The orc was well aware that they were in a particularly precarious situation. To her left, there was a wyvern eyeing her with more than passing interest. To her right, Inara was quickly being overtaken by a Shadowcaster who didn't know when to quit. Before her, she could see Charlie dashing into the inn behind Hal with his sword ready -- good lad, that, good lad! get out of here, idiot boy! -- while as she glanced behind her, she could see a Tainted... eating other Shadow Casters? She wasn't about to question it, though she felt a pang of worry as she saw that Azzara was in the vicinity.

But for now, she should probably worry about the wyvern headed towards her, flicking its tongue out in glee. She snorted roughly as she hauled herself backwards, trying to get her good leg under her. However, that was easier said than done, and without something to pull herself up on, she was finding it difficult to get back up to a standing position. I refuse to become lizard food!

Yet, there was the niggling doubt in her belly. The wyvern was much faster than she and approaching quickly. Momentarily, Tza'Hal thought about her father -- her only surviving parent -- in her hometown, wondering where his daughter went and what had happened to her. There was no way to send word to her family, to tell them of her demise, nor could she get a word back to the other monks, her chosen family. If she were to perish here, in this square thousands of miles from home, she would only be mourned by strangers. Something about that fact soured in her heart.

The wyvern snapped forward at her, and she lashed out with a foot half-heartedly, knowing that she was only delaying the inevitable. No one was coming to save her. She had chosen this when she'd sent Charlie ahead.

And, as if to prove her wrong, out of blue came a strange folk blasting away with magic and arrows, a great cavalry charge into the fray. Tza'Hal watched with unabashed relief as several of them -- Naveri, now that she could get a good glimpse of them, rather than just momentary blurs -- put a whole host of arrows into the hide of the wyverns, including the one that had taken an interest in her. Renewed by her apparent rescue, she glanced around her, and with glee, she saw a broken awning nearby. Several poles were sticking out, and while they were of little use as weapons, they would be better than being barehanded.

Tza'Hal dragged herself along the ground as fast as she could go, suddenly glad of all the exercises Masters Ha'Vad and Dain had made her do as part of her training, and by the time she'd managed to make it to the awning, the wyvern had recovered from being peppered with arrows. It was slowing down now, and Tza'Hal recognized the effects of poison while she used a piece of wood to stand herself up. Seeing its prey finally up and moving, the wyvern put in a burst of speed to try and grab its escaping meal, and Tza'Hal, with a massive grunt, swung another broken plank of awning at it, smacking it across the face.

It reared back and hissed as a nail stuck in its eye, shaking its head back and forth in pain, while Tza'Hal tried to back away from it towards the inn, ignoring the chaos --

Her heart sank into her stomach as she saw the void opening in front of the inn, swallowing Hal with it. Of course some sort of horrible rip in the fabric of the world would open up right behind her as soon as there was a chance at escape. She should have expected no less. On the other side, she could hear screaming -- Wynleth! -- and she quickly tried to hobble her way around it, the air temperature steadily dropping.

The wyvern's head suddenly swung her way and blindsided her, throwing her to the left, away from Inara. Stunned, Tza'Hal lay on the ground and tried to gather her bearings as the wyvern stalked closer, still shivering under the effects of poison and a nail to the eye. It pounced on the downed orc, but the monk had enough time to see the move and bring up the plank she'd used to smack it in the face, and the wyvern clamped its jaws around the hunk of wood, rather than the orc holding it up in her hands. Her arms strained as the wyvern tried to break the plank and reach the prize beneath.

"What's that? Tastes like wood chips? I hope so, you worthless worm,"she spit at it.

@Cloudily @SpaceCowboyEin @Effervescent @Elle Joyner[/QUOTE]

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

INTO THE INN THEY GO
Wynleth @Elle Joyner & Charlie @CloudyBlueDay
​

He couldn't breathe. He could not breathe. His gut tightened and he felt as if his throat had closed up on him. Maybe the Seed would be better off in someone else's hands, He thought, because he could feel the presence of the shadow casters lingering slowly behind him -- he was their target, because the he held the Seed. I'm not strong enough for this. I'm.. I'm not.

Hal seemed frazzled, but Wyn didn't hesitate to pull the half-elf into a bone crushing hug. Charlie was stiff in her arms for the first part of it, but he quickly relaxed, shoulders shaking in her grasp and eyes watering again, though he refused to let himself actually cry once more.

Charlie could no longer comprehend who was and wasn't a new threat -- there was a sound of a horn and a new group appeared and they scared Charlie just as much. "Charlie, get inside," Hal commanded. "Go and find the passage and get out." Wynleth released her vice-like grip on Charlie, who sucked in a breath of air. At the orders, Charlie gave a meek nod, looking out into the distance where he'd left Tza'Hal. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, because the Shadow Casters began to advance and then Hal was gone with an appearance of a black void, along with the casters.

Charlie's mouth fell open, stunned, horrified, and then Wyn screamed, a scream that made him shudder. What happened next was a blur -- he knew he took steps back, away from Wyn as she unleashed a powerful rage onto the Wyvern he hadn't even realized had been approaching. It got so cold, his teeth began to chatter.

His vision blurred and then he blacked out -- for a split second at most, but he fell against the walls of the inn only to pull himself up with a startled jolt again. Wyn was heaving and the Wyvern was struggling to escape, and even though he'd passed out and come too -- it hadn't been a nightmare, like he'd so hoped it was.

"Wyn," Charlie whispered, his voice cracking. Slowly, carefully, like approaching a wild animal, until he gently touched her wrist, her good one. His touch was warm, as it should be, even if his teeth were still chittering. Apparently, the boy couldn't remember how to warm himself up. "..Wyn?" He wasn't even sure what he'd say to her just yet. First he had to find out if she'd even respond.

Wyn spun at the touch and for a moment, only a moment there was a distant glint in her eyes, something akin to madness. But at the sound of Charlie's voice, so small and filled with trepidation, the rage twitched away and there was little left but a look of shattered shock. Turning to glance over her shoulder at the void, she released the breath she hadn't known she was holding. As the energy drained away from her, pulling with it the anger and adrenaline, pain both physical and mental manifested and she shrunk into herself with a whimper.

Charlie flinched once Wyn spun around, sure she'd turn back around with the same vengeance still burning, and he the next target. For a moment, it looked that way, something in her eyes was absolutely terrifying, and then it melted away, into a soft, defeated look, and a whimper. She had to be hurting now -- Charlie was surprised he had gotten this far unscathed, and he knew it was only for the fact that everyone else had done their best to protect them. Deep in his stomach he felt a knot of guilt, embedding itself deeply in him. It was taking everything in his power not to run back into the chaos, try his hardest to pull Tza from the mess. But if anyone could survive such a thing, it was her. And he knew, he could feel the Seed of Life in his bag, pulsing.. He knew that Tza would give him a harsh beating if he turned back around. That, and he'd possibly doom the world.

"We have to go," He whispered. "We have to leave, now. The others will be okay. They will." He was lying to himself, and god, was this the only moment he was ever a good liar. Charlie lightly tugged on her good wrist, beckoning her towards the inn. "We have to go." He repeated.

The others will be okay...

A shudder escaped and Wyn grit her teeth. Another scream built up in her chest, hot and cloying, a weight that felt like it might crush her heart, sear her from the inside out. She wanted to tell him he was wrong. To tell him they had to stay, they had to fight. But the truth was, she was done. She knew it… and a part of her suspected he did as well. Even if she weren't physically spent, the ache in her heart told her enough that she would be little use to anyone out in the square, alive or dead.

Charlie's fingers circled around her wrist and grimacing, feeling the pangs of defeat, she nodded, before starting up the stairs, towards the inn again.

Wyn was reluctant and so was he, but there was nothing more he could do. The Seed was his responsibility, and as Wyn was no longer fit to fight, she was his responsibility too. Charlie kept a grip on her wrist, because if he let go he feared she'd stop and not move any further. And, if Charlie did not have someone to hold on too, he feared he might black out again.

He went down the stairs, as far down as they'd go. To the cellar of the Inn, that's where it lead, and it was dark as hell. Only now did Charlie let go of Wyn and raise his palm, a small fire erupting in his hand. It burned away the bandages he had so gingerly wrapped his hands in just a little while ago, but it really didn't matter any more.

The only problem was, he saw no passageway. Only barrels on the floor and walls with no escape. Charlie let out a defeated sob, because there was nothing.

There was nothing. And Wyn had nothing left within her. Sinking back against the wall, she let her eyes fall shut, her voice barely resonating through the basement, "Easy, Charlie. Won't be long now…"

Charlie looked around for another exasperated moment, shining his small fire in every nook and cranny he could think would hide a passageway. He whipped around at Wyn's words, watching her slide against the wall, her eyelids slowly closing. "Wyn, Wyn! You can't leave me alone like this, Wyn -- Wyn!" he called for her desperately, fear causing his voice to crack, but it was too late, she was gone. The slow rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still alive, but it didn't calm him much. He was alone in the dark cellar, with the Seed and with an unconscious Wyn, and no way out.​

 

[rissa]

INARA BELANOR

---

Chaos reigned. In front of her, behind her, to the left and right chaos bled the town of Lauderdine dry.

From within her funnel, Inara held her ground as the caster stalked forward, his undulating Wreathe of Shadow splintering here and there against her small earthen allies. She shoved the squawking cries of the wyverns from her mind and focused on the snarling shadow caster. Her lips curled back and she revealed a snarl of her own. The injustice, the slaughter of Lauderdine and it's people ignited a flame within her she never knew existed. Rage filtered through her veins, into her magic, and reddened her vision. Her fists clenched as she slid into a stance. Inara strengthened the call to the earth beneath her feet, her magic so potent with ire she could taste it in the back of her throat.

The caster flicked his wrist and from it, sent a violet beam of shadow hurling towards her. There was no time to react, no time to move out of the way or summon a slab of cobblestone to redirect the Shadow… Inara stared at the violet beam with wide eyes and mouth slightly open as it closed the distance between it's caster and herself. As if her attunement wished to protect her, a broken piece of cobblestone road danced its way in front of the shadow. The stone splintered and tiny shards kissed her forehead and cheeks and though it didn't halt the violet light, it prevented it from being a direct hit.

If only a hair length higher in aim, the beam of Shadow glanced off her left shoulder with a jolt. She screamed, her mind momentarily misplaced as pain unlike she'd ever felt blindsided her. Her shoulder was tearing itself apart; bones broke free of each other while muscles and tendons stretched until they threatened to tear. Pain and anger coalesced throughout her entire being. She sucked in a breath of air and almost gagged. The metalline taste of blood overpowered everything but the gritty sand she'd just inhaled. Coughing, Inara dropped to one knee and glanced at her shoulder, surprised to see her left arm still attached to her body.

From her kneeling position, Inara barely held onto the funnel of earth as she regained her strength and clarity of mind. It took everything within her; heart and soul and will to survive to stand back up, to fight the Shadow bearing down on not only her, but the entire world. She tried to stand, her good arm still outstretched, controlling the funnel with sheer power of will while her left arm cradled her side. Inara stumbled as she regained her footing and she shot a furtive glance at the caster -- she registered two things simultaneously: the caster looked just as haggard as her and a deep, resonating sound echoed through the enclosed town of Lauderdine. Wards, blue like the sky ought to be, encircled Lauderdine and like the caster in front of her, she too gazed up in awe at the sight.

Hope blossomed and with it, a fighting chance for their survival. Thank the Maker, Inara thought reverently.

Help us save ourselves, she prayed silently, Help us defeat these Shadows. And it seemed, for once, her prayers didn't fall on deaf ears.

The Shadow Caster dissolved into a black cloud and shot upwards. He didn't get far. The shadow cloud flew straight into the blue wards and upon impact, casted him straight back to the earth. The man landed a few paces from her with a sickening crunch, and Inara couldn't help but wince. Her pity mingled with her pain and she risked a moment to refocus both herself and her magic.There was pain and adrenaline and fear; but hope was alive in Inara's eyes. Her heart clamored with the fickle emotion as she caught a glimpse of three hooded figures emerging from the dissipating fog. Black leathers danced with blue wards as the Naveri joined the fray. Inara recognized the trio immediately. They'd saved Tryn and gifted her with the glowing blue pendant strung around her neck and the runed dagger at her hip. Though the pain refused to ebb, Inara found that her tolerance for it grew; hope rejuvenated her spirit and gave her what she needed to continue on.

And thankfully so.

Though the caster lay dying to her right, two more arrived in his place. Outside the swirling funnel of earth a pair of Shadow Casters stood menacingly.Time slowed as they raised their hands and Inara watched with bated breath as they both conjured violet orbs of energy. Her wrist jerked upwards as the orbs were thrusted towards her, a slab of cobblestone raising at the very same time. One orb hit stone, and ricocheted off into the chaos, leaving the slab destroyed and Inara vulnerable to attack. The second arced in its trajectory, it's violet light streaking towards her. Then Inara caught the eyes of a fourth figure embellished with glowing arcane runes. Unfamiliar to the eyes and unfamiliar to anyone within the Allied Kingdoms. Inara watched captivated as his strange blades glowed with arcane and caught both casters unaware. Even his battle dance was strange. Strange, but effective. His exoticness reminded her of Theresia and her chest tightened with pain.

And then she couldn't breathe. Her mouth opened in a scream, a howl of pain she couldn't release. The violet orb slammed into her torso, knocking Inara off her feet and forcing the breath out of her lungs. She had never fallen from a tree, but what she experienced reminded her of what Zaharin frequently tried explaining. She groaned, Theresia and Zaharin, Tryn and the rest of Shae Pippa's fellowship flashed through her mind. The pain doubled as she realized her lungs had been stunned upon impact. Inara curled into herself, felt the control on the earth funnel wane as she struggled into a defensible position. She cradled her injured arm against her wounded torso and sucked air into her lungs greedily.

The earth funnel dissipated slowly and she allowed it; bits of earth fell one by one until the only thing left swirling was the settling sand. The exotic elf before her drove one of the casters into the ground and Inara struggled onto her knees, thinking through the pain. Her hazel eyes locked onto the caster whose focused still remained on her. She stood, barely, and summoned a cobblestone shield from the street. It hovered in front of her injured arm and Inara unsheathed the glowing dagger, readying herself as best she could for whatever may come next.

 

[JustAFed]

Azzara Omari & Trynten Lothorsen
Big Trouble in Little Lauderdine Pt.2 Wyvern Boogaloo

He tossed away the middle section of the Pain-Maker he had destroyed. Dead; it was dead, so there was no more need to attack it more. More. There were more Pain-Makers. And others; Not Pain-Makers. They could be dealt with Later. Later. Later, when the Pain-Makers were no more. More. More. MORE. THERE WERE MORE OF THEM. Pain; they would cause him PAIN if he did not stop them! Bite them! KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!

The beast leapt forward, catching another Shadow Caster with its head. The man's ribs shattered at the impact, and he was thrown backwards, only to slam against the oaken wall of a nearby structure. But the monster didn't wait to see what had become of his attack. It was already turning to another Shadow Caster, snarling and chomping at her viciously. She retreated a few steps, and two companions appeared through the black fog of Shadow. Immediately they began funneling streams of putrid purple Shadow magic into the Tainted. The beast stopped, apparently confused. The female, having retreated some fifty feet away, grinned wickedly. She raised a hand and with a sharp utterance began casting her own Shadow magic. It shot from her hand like a spear, impacting the beast's head with a dull thud. And all the while the wyvern circled, wary and unsure of what the wolf-like Tainted might do.

Azzara's attention as diverted for a moment by the appearance of wards around the town followed by what she assumed to be warhorns. The wards seemed to keep the shadow casters out, but let the wyverns traverse the skies without hassle. Along with the wards came a surge of new bodies from seemingly nowhere. Their armor was dark, but were aglow with arcane magic. They were too far for her to determine who or what they were, but she felt much more at ease as they began to engage the shadow casters in her area. They did seem interested in stopping Trynten, which was going to become a point of contention soon enough. In any case, they now had a finite number of enemies, with friendly forces on the field as well.

Azzara watched the thing that was Trynten make short work of another caster. The Tainted were truly fearsome creatures, and she was willingly about to go toe to toe with one. She'd have a hell of a time explaining this one to her kids if she survived. Having learned their lesson to not get close to a Tainted, the three other casters began assaulting Tryn with their magic. And, just at the edge of combat, a wyvern seemed to be waiting for a time to strike. It would have to be taken out by Trynten. But first she needed to eliminate his distractions and hope to stay out of the path of his rampage.

In an attempt to stay out of sight, Azzara edged along the buildings to put the Wyvern and Trynten between her and the casters. Once she was clear of any obstructions, she let forth a blast of light in an attempt to break their concentration from Tryn and to her.

Small. Weak. Pitiful. Prey. Nothing. Unbidden these thoughts smashed against his beastial fury, battling, distracting. Stalling. His entire body tensed, his muscles rippling further with increased expansion and bulk, BUT WHAT GOOD WAS IT. DAMN THE MAKER the fear was an anchor, and suddenly STRENGTH SUCH GODSDAMNED STRENGTH but for NO USE. He was PREY what did strength matter to the weak! His maw gapped, and a choking growl tumbled out; FILLED WITH UNRESOLVED HATRED AT THE PAIN-MAKERS THAT DID THIS. More and more and more he felt strong and afraid powerful and terrified MONSTROUS AND COWARDLY THE WEIGHT WAS GONE the fear was gone kill kill KILL KILL KILLLLLLLLLLL.

The woman Caster snarled, impacted by Azzara's attack. Releasing the stream of darkness she had been feeding into the Tainted, she turned and upheld first one hand and then the next, bringing up a shield of Shadow against the Maldviri's Inner Light. Her companions did the same, their blocks cutting down her attack's effectiveness. But each was still impacted, and the nearest of the pair lost his guard entirely, screaming as he fell to the ground and writhed. The others hissed and cried out in pain, the Light causing a heat and searing within them that steadily increased the longer Azzara focused on them.

And the Tainted, free of the Shadow Fear the Caster pair had been feeding into his mind, spread his feet, dropped his jaw, and screamed a challenge. Its fiery eyes locked onto the Wyvern that now ceased its ground level circling. The lizard screamed back, its high pitched call crashing against the Tainted's more base roar in a kind of discordant harmony. Then suddenly, as if both were released simultaneously from invisible restraints, the creatures rushed each other, snarling, biting, and clawing. Their talons dug deep ruts into the dirt and even into the stone pathways, and rolling about, the crashed through the wooden wall of the apothecary.

It seemed that Azzara's ploy had worked. If they didn't want their souls to burn, they would have to shift their focus to defending against her attack. It was a commendable effort, their defense, but with time Azzara's assault would prove too much for the shadow casters. One fell, and the remaining two were close behind. With a yell she let loose a single burst of light into her stream, intent on finishing them off.

FINALLY. FINALLY A FOE TO DIE DIE DIE YOU BASTARD LIZARD I'LL DESTROY YOU CAN GO TO HELL IS WAITING FOR YOUR SCALE-CLAD ASSURE YOU CAN'T BEST ME- GAAH! Pain; visceral, sharp, self ARM FOOT it was coming from him! In his anguish, he winced, recoiling. And through his blood-red sight, the damned bird-lizard backed awa-GET BACK HERE I'LL TEAR YOU TO SHREDS YOU GODS-DAMNED SONNOVABITCH.

The Tainted tore at the wyvern with abandon, its jaw locked onto the lizard's shoulder as it tore into the lizard's chest with its claws. About them lay what remained of the apothecary; pots, jars, and glassware lay broken about them, stabbing into flesh where it could, and the pungent odor of mixed or crushed herbs, minerals, and concoctions wafted through the air, stinging the eyes and the nose.

The great wolf had suddenly recoiled; a wound on its left foreleg lay open to the air, and to the caustic effect of the apothecary's supplies. It was not a terribly wide cut, proportionally, but it was nearly bone deep. The Shadow Casters had likely given the Tainted an unintentional aid with their casting at him, the new found power acting as a mystical adrenaline. But fighting with the wyvern exacerbated the pain, and the Tainted was caught off guard momentarily.

It was all the wyvern needed. It shoved with its hindlimbs, kicking against the Tainted's shoulders with its feet. The Tainted stumbled back as the wyvern flipped upright. With a beat of its wings, it was in the air, and the Tainted, snarling and frothing at the mouth from blind rage, leaped after it, limping and following it as it retreated toward its fellow near the inn, seeking aid.

As the last shadow caster dropped, a cry came out from the apothecary behind her. Azzara spun on her heels to find that the two beats had moved their tangle into the building. She didn't want to think about the various substances being mixed in there alongside their destructive battle. After a moment, the wyvern emerged, taking once more to the sky with Trynten close behind it on the ground. They were both moving towards the inn, good. It was going to be in her best interest to follow them, keep low and be ready to strike at Tryn before the fight moved anywhere else. She wasn't keen on dragging him any further than she needed to.



Prey. Kill. Prey. Kill. Prey. Kill. Prey. Kill.

The Tainted ran faster, ignoring the stabbing numbing pain in its left foreleg that caused a small halt to its step. Its eyes were fixed inexerobly on the equally restricted wyvern that struggled to beat its wings to maintain the ten feet or so above the ground, desperate to escape. The shallow bites and cuts it had managed to score on the wolf-like creature seemed to be insubstantial; despite the bleeding, it pursued the lizard with blind ferocity.

Prey. Kill. Prey. Kill. Prey. Kill. Prey. Kill.

This would not do. The wyvern couldn't keep fleeing; it would only die tired. It turned to face its pursuer, positioned against the end of the street just before what looked to be the inn's stables. It screamed a piercing cry and swung its tail up like a club. Its spikes impacted the Tainted, ripping across its face and leaving four jagged bloody lines. The wolf stumbled, and the wyvern struck. It's clawed feet latched onto the Tainted's shoulders, and its talons dig viciously into flesh. With a beat of its wings, it took to the sky, gaining height slowly but surely. And the Tainted struggled all the while.

No. NO. NO. Not like this NOT LIKE THIS YOU DAMN BIRD YOU ROTTING FILTH CARCASS BRING YOUR FACE TO MINE LET ME RIP YOUR GODS-DAMNED THROAT OUT. He snarled, yelping, bellowing, thrashing LET ME DOWN swiping as best he might with his paws. The lizard tugged harder; the ground was leav-THE GROUND PUT ME DOWN!

Finally the Tainted's struggling paid off; a massive paw reached up, and long black claws dug into the wyvern's inner thigh. It was a shock of agony to the beast, and coupled with the shoulder and chest injuries it had already sustained, it lost the strength to stay aloft. Its wings went lip, and the two creatures dropped like stones.

The Tainted didn't care. Snapping, it clawed its way up, dragging the wyvern's neck to its teeth. Its gaping maw closed around its target, and with a roar the Tainted ripped the wyvern's windpipe from its spine. The lizard's eyes went dark and its back snapped as the pair crashed through the stable's roof.

DEAD I'LL KILL YOU DEAD YOU SONNOVat's going on? He hurt. He hurt badly, worse than he could remember ever hurting before. But by the Maker's grace, It was only for a brief moment. Darkness, like a warm blanket, covered him over.

Tryn's unconscious form, fully human now, if torn and broken, lay stomach down on the belly of the wyvern. The wyvern lay dead on its back, having broken Tryn's fall with its body, and all about them lay the splintered remains of the stable's roof. Dust from the destruction hung in the air, slowly settling on the woodsman's battered form. And the wyvern's poison slowly began spreading through his body.

Azzara stayed close behind the two, looking for an opportunity where there were none. Tryten and the wyvern were engrossed in one another and she feared that interfering now would draw ire from both of them. When the wyvern pulled Tryn up into the air all she could do was watch until, somehow they both came crashing down into the stables beside the inn. The fight between the two was so close that she almost didn't want to come look at you was the victor, or if neither were. But she would have to go, even if it meant having to bury an old acquaintance.

When she entered the stables, she was stunned to find that Trynten had already turned back into his human self, sans clothing. Below him was the corpse of the wyvern he'd ended up besting if the hole in its neck was any indication. Trynten was equally beat up and was likely suffering from wyvern poison, unfortunately it wasn't something she could treat.

Her first objective would be to get him into the inn with his dignity intact. She approached his bare form cautiously and had her cloak undone by the time she reached him. It was probably more dangerous than she thought, approaching a tainted in human form, but she hoped we was knocked out enough to not spontaneously turn on her. Once she reached the two, she threw the cloak over Tryn and did her best to wrap the backside around his front before tying it at his neck and dragging him onto the floor.

"I swear, this makes us even two times over." She mumbled as she hoisted Tryn up and started towards the door situated between the stables and the inn which was empty for the time being. She'd seen Tza'Hal and Inara in the thick of the fight, but she'd been too focused on getting to Trynten before anyone else could try and kill the 'tainted threat'. "Hey!" She called out, looking for the cellar entrance, hoping that someone else was below them and waiting for the others. "I've got Trynten and I need some help!"

 

[Effervescent]

It was an unfathomable blackness that engulfed Hal mid slash. The Casters were gone. Lauderdine was lost. He couldn't even see his blade as he moved it through the air, the point cautious in its search through the void. It was a maddening silence; an isolation beyond imagining as he suddenly felt alone and hopeless. He should have hit one of the park shrubberies by now based on his trijectory, but instead he found nothingness. It was limitless.

D̸͎̙̙͓̥̿͗̂ͅo̡̎ͯ̐́͋̊͏͙̯͔̤͎ ̫̳̜͇̼͗́͛ͩ̄͊͘͘͝ỳ̸͉͓̟̱̩ͬ͊ͬ͑ơ͊͑̓͒҉̬̬̼͈͓̫͍̫u̡̨̨͖̗̖̗̱͔̼ͤ̾̾ͣ͊̎̔ͦͪ ͍͂͗̊̆̇̏̌́͟͡k̨̯͕̹͋̈ͮ̂̆͗̌͌̚͢͝ͅn̷̷̬͚ͦͫͣ̅̂̀̽̽ͅo̳͎̞̺̙ͤ̌́͜ͅw̸̧̗̫̘ͮ̆ͥͣͅ ̷̫͂̎̔̆w̸̖̲̝͊͂̋̓h̓҉̡̟̻͓̞̤̦ę͓̭̱͚̭̑̓̐̋̇̑͗̈͢ͅr͚̺̤̫͈̝̍̑̔̐̍ͨ̏͞ͅe̱̲ͪͧ ̯͚̩͚͚̋͂̋̓́̽͆̀ỵ̶̲̊̃ͥͅo͕̠̗ͩͬử̫͚̝̜̪͆ͨ̊͗͠ ̛̪̳̝͚̝͕̂ͣͦ̈́̆ͣa͋ͮ͑̍͒ͨ͐̃ͣ͏̶̳̭͉̭̪̯͝ṛ͕̜̦̞ͬ͗ͨ͘è̴͎̝̹͉͍͚̃̒̏ͧͩͭ͟?̴͇̪̬̑̃̋̿̒̇͂̚

The voice burst from the nothing in a torrent of tones, whispers following in its wake before silence fell once again.

"No," Hal admitted, his voice cracking in fear of the very unknown. He felt nothing but his own fear rising like bile in his throat.

Ṯ̵̪͚̪͙̌̉͑̽ͫ͟h̴̵͋͏̳͈i̴̜͓ͮͧ̆ͪ̾̈́̀s̶̼̤̯̞̰͕̮͚̉͛ͫ͐͢ ̺̜̺̜̥ͬͣ̓̏̽̉ͪ́̚ͅi̧̪̜̘̊̃̊ͮ̇̊̉̈́s̠̏ͩ͌̽̈́ͮ̋ͥ͡ ͖͍͚̓͋ͤ̇̾̚͡ͅͅt̗̣̤̘̰̯̮̜̽ͨ̋ͧ̉̄͜ḧ̢́̌ͫ͆͋͋҉̗̗͖͕̻ë̊̆ͣ̾̂̐͑͏̜̥̹̬͘ ̴̧̬̩̪͓̲̓ͦ̓̋̏͒̈́̚̕D̆ͨ̉ͣ̇ͤͣ̎͏̨̖̗̻͉̠̳̩a̷̹̺̞̪ͨͯ̆̔ṙ̷͔̹̳͗͐ͨ͋̾̃́k̪̝̻̤ͩ̊̕͢ǹ̸̺̜̠̹͊̾ͬ̓͊e̷̺̣̯͔̠ͩͭs̵͔̲̫̱̤̓̏ͯ̌̊̕š̢̤͙̹͓̗̱ͣ.̷̙̞̖͕̞̣͚̀͗̅̋͊̿̐̀̚ ̛̠̼͍̦̦͇͔̘͂̍̃̾͒̚͠͡ ͓̳̯̹̭ͥͯ̔ͣ̆̏T̥͔̲̿ͣh̷̷͇͚͓̝̘̐͌̈́̓̄͗e̘͈̬͎̣̊͛́ ̡͗̈́ͨ̉ͬ̑̿ͩ͏̥̩̮̣̝͖̻̭͙F̶̴̋̐́͏̣͇o̶̜̞̝͇͉̥̞͐͂ͥ͒̀͟ͅȓ̲̫͚͑͟e̢͓͕͉̳̥̱̘͈̙ͦͪ̃ͪ̈́̀v̢̛̻̯͆ͯ̓͜ͅe͕̹̼̲͕͔͈͌ŗ̜͇̞̖̈́.̡̹͍̠̞̃̐͋

There were far too many questions to put into words. Hal was trapped in the very place the Shadow drew their magic from. He tried to look around him for signs of light or life or even the body to the voice that spoke to him so clearly. He was still met only with the abyssal blackness. It was already maddening to have to bearings, to see no life, to feel not even the pull of the earth or the caress of a breeze.

"Why am I here?" Hal commanded. "Where are the others?"

S̹̙͙̪̯̀͌ͫͬͅtͭ͆̏ͣ҉̱͚̩̮͝ͅe̶͚͕ͧp̥͓͔̞̠͖͇ͫͩͨͧͣ͊ͤ̑̏͘͢ ̶̠̝͙͇̭̽͟i̧̲̣̖̟̬̼̾ͦ͛̽͞ͅn̞̞͔̙̹͌ͥ͑ͨ̃ͯ̆͌̈́t̠̜̲̖̣̣̭̏̂ͯ̀̿̀̚o̪̼̗ͧ͢ͅ ̵͚̗̼͎̟͊̅ͣ̅͠t̸̰͈̩̹̎̓̒̎h̐͋̈̊ͤ̈ͦ҉͕̣e̹̰͈̼̫̘̲͊̒́ͦͭͤ̋̈́̈́͢ ̧̠̦̖̎͗̈́̉̉̌ͤ̑͗͜͝ĺ͉̠͓͇̜͉̺̟̃ͨ̎́́ĭ͆ͫ͊̐̽́͗҉̝̹̫͎̰g̷̗͛̾̍ͤͤ̀h͕̩͉̭̏̓͌̐ͨ͊̽͝t̴̨͖͉̣͙̫̹̱̹ͩͨ͊͐,̳̣̲̙̰͙̠̊̒ͮ ̋͋͛҉̞̹̪͚̫͟H̢̭̖͉̮̗̠̑ͣ͊ͫ̋ă̽̋̇ͭ҉̵̙̰̦̩̙̟̥̠̭́l̸̮̪͍̥̯͚̀̂̆͒̀͆ͅ.͔͖̫̣̞̓ͧͬͪ́ ̢̝̘̮̪̩͖͖͖ͯ̋ͭͫ ̪̂́̒̈̌͡L͉̗̝̝̩̿̉ͭe̶̹̟ͧ̑ͦ̈́ͭͪ͂̑t̟̠̾͛̓ͥ ̔͏̘̪̲m̶̨͕̩̟͓̮̼̟͌̐̍ͣ̿ͅe͇̯̦͒̑͆̑̂̋͐ͭ͜͝ ̴̛̭̌̍̐̿̐ͭ̏s̨͙͙̬̱̣̻̩̳͇͌͗͑͗̿ͬ̇̋̀͝h̆͋̓̿̉̌͏̭͔͢o̟͖̠ͤ̔ͮ̓̈ͨ͌͗͟͝w͍̯̘̭̮̎ ̮̥̭̰̤͖̉̈̔ͅy̷̯̻̟͕̝̑̽͠ͅo̡̡͉̖̒̀ͣ̃̎ͯü̢͎͈̘͍̩͞ ̧̧̩̌̔ͧͨͨ͊͊͞w̞̝͕ͨ̅͢h̷̩̗̜̯̉ͪ́̕y̛͕̬̭̦͊ͣ͝͞ͅ ̜͖̯͕͚ͮ͑ͦ̉̾̎͆̑͒͡ẁ̵̖̼͍̳̜̋̉ͩ͒̍̀̈͜͝é͓̘̞̲̞̻̖͟͟ͅ ̝̣̔͂̈̽͐͊ͫ͘f̸̹̳̳͙̟͍͓ͬͫͮ̀î̻̦̑ͩͧ̅̈̓ͪ͞͠g̵̸̸͎͎̩͊ͬ̌ͤ̓̑ḩ̷̫̩̥̲͆ͅt̜͚͉̦͙̂ͮ͂͌̈.ͤͩ̈̓҉̭͡

Hal almost laughed at the prospect of light in such a void, but as his head turned he was met with the faintest of glows, grey yet piercing in its invitation. He began to walk towards it in curiosity as it grew in size. Shapes began to form, veiled in a strange and blurry blackness that lapped with a wind without touch. And as he moved closer, so too did definition. Moving silhouettes became people adorned in simple uniform.

And suddenly Hal found himself in a hallway bustling with activity as people rushed from room to room. They pushed the unconscious and injured upon wheeled beds with urgency, their forms rushing through Hal with little regard to his presence. Red lights flickered outside a door that threw open by magic as another injured person was wheeled past. Hal followed curiously. The man had been in a terrible accident, his head bloodied and his neck encased in a cage. The uniformed men and women were healers.

"What is this…" Hal's voice trailed off as he stopped in bewilderment.

"It is a world without magic," chimed the voice of a woman. Hal turned to face the hollow-eyed woman from his vision, her unseeing gaze staring out at the world that paid them no regard. She looked solem, weary, her pallid form cloaked in an inky shroud that fluttered with her movements. Hal couldn't conjure words that rested upon his tongue in questions. Instead he carried himself further through the hallway. Strange tones struck distantly and rhythmically. Healers called out strange words in a language he didn't recognize, yet somehow understood.

"When I tapped into the Darkness, I found this world," the woman continued. "They have no magic, and yet look how far they have come. The hundreds of lives saved in this very building; a building that reaches the clouds… Hal, this is a land of prosperity, and we are so close to opening the gate."

She reached out to a healer as he passed, though her hand pushed through his body as though he were not even there. Yet for a moment the healer paused, brow furrowing as he gently touched where the woman had reached through him. She lingered before pulling away, and he shook off the sensation before continuing about his duties.

"You mean to go into this place?" Hal asked.

"I am the gateway," she clarified, "and nothing more. I can carry my people back to the world they belong to. My precious people deserve to prosper. Back there, they suffer from the oppression of magic. I can give them a better life, Hal. I can bring them back to their home. But the World Tree prevents us. It thinks that the Darkness is something to suppress because it does not see."

"The Shadow Army has done nothing but massacre and maim," Hal retorted. "You can give them a better life by not corrupting their souls to this Darkness."

"They sacrifice themselves for the greater good," she said. "For the betterment of all. You deny the people of this world happiness. You deny them medicine that can heal far greater than anything accomplished. You deny them frivolities and comfort. All magic is bad. It is holding them back from greatness. Can you see the greater good? Can you see why you must die like all the rest?"

---

The foreign elf removed his blades from the chest of his fallen foe as Inara fell, her mouth open to gasp for air her lungs refused to take in. There was one Shadow Caster left between them whose eyes were fixed upon the Sur, arms coiling in preparation for a spell as it began to manifest between his palms in a darkened violet hue. Sand and stone continued to swirl around Inara, a few pieces smacking the Shadow Caster's side and outstretched arms. But the funnel slowly fell, and Inara rose with renewed confidence, cobblestone pulled from the road to comprise a shield that hovered before her protectively.

The foreigner rushed behind the Shadow Caster, the wyvern's tail thrashing close to Inara as he tackled the enemy to the ground using his blades as a grounding point. The spell dissipated in a hollow burst that backfired on the very man that conjured it. He cried out in pain, and while Inara had to concern herself with the thrashing poisonous spikes of a wyvern's tail, the foreigner's hands glowed with a warm, golden light. The light seeped onto the hilts of his blades and channeled into the punctures within the Shadow Caster's back. A more agonizing cry escaped him, a darkness writhing about his form before the foreigner removed his blades from his back. He placed a hand on the crown of his opponent's head as the Caster heaved in labored breaths. Blue Arcane glittered from his fingertips and the man fell silent and calm, his breath still a struggle despite his peace.

Hal's form emerged from the blackness, and it vanished as soon as he was free from its confines. He fell to the grass retching , sword clattering against the cobblestone as it slipped once again from his grasp. Lauderdine quickly came back into perspective with such mental force he felt like he could scream. The other Shadow Casters that were engulfed did not return before the void had disappeared leaving Hal at the edge of the park.

Behind him the wyvern whinnied and clattered its tongue along the obstacle within its maw. The plank was wedged perfectly enough to where the beast could not open its mouth further to relieve the setting. Its tail whipped through the air, its legs giving in as the poison sunk deeper and deeper into its inky, black blood. Hal used his sword to hoist himself back up to a stand, knees shaking, heart pounding. He was back, and danger was still present. His heart could not let himself ignore the scene before him, and so he kicked off into a sprint towards the faltering wyvern. The hand that gripped the sword turned and rammed into the creature's snout near the nostril. Another croak escaped it as the head was pushed away from Tza'Hal's arm momentarily.

"Come on!" he said as he held out a hand to the Orc. He looked over to Inara. "Let's go!"

The wyvern lost its footing, and in the slight trip the plank splintered in its mouth and fell to the torn ground as it shook its head. Sluggish as it may be, it tried to take flight. Leathery wings extended and fluttered weakly. The Naveri were cutting down the threat, nearly half the number now as it was before. They kept the Shadow Casters from advancing upon the group as best they could, azure bursting against violet in brilliance.

"Go!" Madras called out as she knocked another arrow. A Shadow Caster slipped into her shadowy form, transporting herself above them. Madras let loose her arrow as it pierced through the rushing smoke causing the Caster to manifest in her human form to fall near Inara. The foreigner approached the Sur, his dark gaze set under a calm expression dappled in sweat.

"I know the way," he said in a broken accent. "Do not linger."

The foreigner sprinted down the square towards the inn, his pace slowing as he walked around the eviscerated heap that once was a wyvern. Slipping his daggers into their hilts on his thighs, he calmly walked around the beast and up the stairs into the inn. Rounding the corner to the entrance of the cellar, he surveyed the Maldviri woman carrying the bloodied body of an unconscious man. Concern was not evident in his features as he turned the knob to the door and slipped past without so much as a polite excusal. Whether or not anyone followed him was of no great import. If they wished to survive, they would find a way, and so he entered the inn without so much as a glance backward.

He made it a point to carry his weight more heavily as he descended the stairs into the basement. Each creak and clatter of wood against his soft soled boots was designed to herald his entrance to friend or foe, and he slowed as he faced Wynleth and Charlie off in the back. He turned his hand to conjure a soft ball of light that illuminated past Charlie's flame, and without word to the two he began roving over the stonework of the walls, his fingers brushing thoughtfully against the rough surfaces in search for something unseen.

@Red Thunder @fyrelily @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @SpaceCowboyEin @Doctor Jax

 

[Elle Joyner]

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---

Swimming in and out of consciousness, Wyn could hear him through the darkness, his voice spiked in a panic. Through the nauseating, pounding pain in her skull, she forced her eyes open, the flame resting in his palm a beacon that she pressed as much concentration on as she could muster.

"I'm here." She murmured, "I'm… I'm not leaving you, Charlie. You hear me? I won't leave you..." Pushing herself straighter, she hissed through clenched teeth, and turning her attention to her wrist took note that the splint had shattered. She couldn't remember it happening, but it hardly came as much surprise. Never before had she dared to let go the way she had with the Wyvern. Never before had she pressed such intense focus into her magic. It frightened her, knowing what she was capable of - even untrained as she was. It frightened her that she'd been so out of control…

The bones beneath the broken wood and unraveling bandages were without a doubt mangled beyond repair. Curling her arm to her chest, she shut her eyes again, head touching the wall behind her. They were alone, still, she and Charlie. Out in the streets, things had been so beyond her control, and there was no telling who had made it… who was still out there. Thinking about it brought to mind the oblivion that had swallowed Hal and jaw tightening, she opened her eyes.

"The Apothecary… He said there was a tunnel down here. We…" Grimacing, she eased her way to her feet in slow, stunted motions, "We need to try and--"

Overhead, she could make out the muffled sounds of someone calling and reaching with her good hand, she found one of the duel knives tucked into her belt, freeing it and holding it as steady as she could, "Do not make a sound… No matter what, Charlie. We have to get that Seed to safety." Her whispered voice broke off, her free hand clutching the wall for support, as she stood before the steps, posture guarded… ready, "Find the tunnel. There might be… there might be a stone to press or a… lever. Look for hinges in the stone..."

Footfall on the wooden steps broke her train of thought and arching upright, her knuckles tensed around the hilt of the weapon, "Stay behind me, Charlie. Find that tunnel…"

The steps neared, moving swiftly, their hushed scrape growing louder and louder until a figure made of shadow broke through the darkness. Wyn raised the weapon, but before she could decipher friend or foe from the towering figure, a burst of brightness roiled into a ball and scattered throughout the cellar. Squinting, flinching against the sudden brilliance, she stepped back and the man… no, elf… passed by, silently, his hands searching the walls. Blinking, Wyn glanced to Charlie, before nodding in gesture to follow suit as she turned back to guard the stairwell.

---

TAGS: @Effervescent, @Cloudily

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[CloudyBlueDay]

CHARLIE REDDEMAN
@Effervescent @Elle Joyner @Anyone else who would like to join us in the cellar​

"I'm here." She murmured, "I'm… I'm not leaving you, Charlie. You hear me? I won't leave you..."

Her words did not fall on... not exactly deaf ears, but his head was already spinning with panic by that point. "I left them," He whispered, the flame in his palm flickering but not disappearing growing bigger and then smaller and fluctuating dangerously.

"Scared little Charlie, with no one to save him from the big bad shadows." The memories came in sharp flashes. That tight little box he was trapped in, and the words like knives. "You're weak. Ignorant. Selfish." "Stop.." Charlie murmured out loud, his grip tightening on the make-shift weapon and the flame in his palm continuing to flicker. His eyes squeezed shut and he fell against the wall. He was shaking his head, fighting away the painful flashback.

"It's YOUR fault they're going to die! You couldn't help them! You can't help ANYONE!"
​

"No!" Charlie hissed, under his breath and betraying his rage, but the fire in his hands bursting to life, scraping the ceiling and then coming back down. "'I'm NOT afraid.. and I'm not ignorant, or selfish.. and they're not going to die, so get out of my head!" He wheezed, stumbling away from the wall, his grip on the bone so tight his knuckles were white, and the tiniest ball of fire still alive in his palm.

"Do not make a sound… No matter what, Charlie. We have to get that Seed to safety." Wyn's instructions were.. grounding. He gave a slow nod and struggled to stand up straight. Charlie perked up, hearing the soft, almost barely noticeable footsteps, until they got louder, and louder. Panic crept through him, once more, just as he'd managed to banish it. Charlie scurried behind Wynleth and raised his weapon with as much confidence as he could muster.

The intruder swooped into the dim space with a ball of light in his palm, and Charlie almost lunged at him before he realized -- a ball of light. Charlie lowered his fighting stance and the small ball of fire diminished into nothing -- it wasn't needed anyway. The stranger ran his hands along the walls of the cellar, looking for something.. the entrance to the passageway?

"Who are you?" Charlie hardly managed the courage to ask this question, though his voice cracked midway and he sounded horribly sheepish.

 

[rissa]

INARA BELANOR

---

A Collab Between @Effervescent @Doctor Jax @rissa

Everything happened at once; the foreigner rushed forward and tackled the Shadow Caster who stood between them while the wyvern closest to her thrashed it's tail. She moved out of it's poisoned path just in time. If she had been engaging the caster, there would have been no time to dash out of the way. She glanced back at the elf who'd saved her - glowing Light emanated from his hands and she stood momentarily perplexed as her mind registered his two attunements.

Where exactly did he hail from?

From somewhere close she heard a familiar voice call to her, but she stood her ground warily. The Naveri were slowly being surrounded and she watched from a distance as azure and inky black energy danced against each other. She took a step towards them, her heart and mind in a battle of their own. Inara heard Madras shout something and then three heartbeats later a caster landed near her with another sickening thud. She closed her eyes against the revulsion and when she opened them, Inara jumped back in surprise.

The foreign elf stood before her, his brow spotted with perspiration and his dark gaze locking into hers. Like Theresia, he was exoctic and beautiful, almost dangerously so. And then he spoke, a garbled Allied Kingdom speech with foreign accentuation. Inara nodded slowly, took a step forward as he rushed off, and glanced back at Madras. Would they be okay? Should she try and help the Naveri as they helped her and Tryn? She glanced back at the foreign elf as he sprinted across the cobblestones and took a hesitant step after him.

As the orc wrestled with the wyvern trying desperately to eat her, she saw the void beyond suddenly begin to dissipate. Her brow furrowed as she tried to see past the wyvern, but the blasted lizard was being unruly. Several times it had almost managed to snap its jaws right around her waist, the knife-like teeth nipping closer and closer to flesh.

Then, with gusto, a sword stuck into the wyvern's head near the snout, and it reared back in pain. Tza'Hal felt a rush of relief as Hal approached the downed monk, the worm dashing its head this way and that as it bled. It was sluggish and unsteady now, the effect of the Naveri poison that had been shot into its body. Tza'Hal quickly took the hand Hal offered her, and she leaned on him momentarily as they headed towards the inn.

In a last ditch effort, the wyvern struck its head out, as fast as a snake, but Tza'Hal had expected as much. She raised a foot and kicked it dead in its good eye, and the wyvern screeched piteously as it dashed its head against the cobbles, blinded completely.

"Let's go before some other worm decides to pick their teeth with our bones," Tza'Hal grumbled, hanging limply off Hal's shoulder.

Hal brought his arm around Tza'Hal to help alleviate the weight from her injured leg. The foreigner rushed passed them towards the in carried in a soft breeze, his steps barely audible as he ventured through the thinning fog. Hal jumped somewhat, startled by Tza'Hal's sudden movement as the wyvern nearly bit into her angrily. But her leg shot out at its eye rendering it blind, and he looked back at Inara.

"Come on!" he called out.

Another wyvern swooped down through the glistening wards above, its wings splayed as it landed near the Naveri and began splitting their group. This gave a few Shadow Casters the opportunity to remove themselves from their fight against the hooded elves, and their sights were set on the Seed of Life. It was apparent they knew the inn was where they were headed and where the Seed was located. In their shrouded form two Shadow Casters fluttered through the air in a cloud and manifested in their human form before the inn, their backs to the trio.

It wasn't until Hal's voice registered that the reality of the situation kicked in. Holding onto the cobblestone road was taking almost all of Inara's effort and a dull throb invaded her mind. She took another step after the foreign elf, towards the Seed of Life and Shae Pippa's fellowship, realizing that despite the debt she owed the Naveri - her place was with the Seed. She took another sluggish step towards the inn, one after the other until she was panting in front of Hal and Tza'Hal.

Between breaths she managed to ask, "Ch-Char-lie…" She clutched her chest and felt the shield drop a few inches in the air. "T-the Seed, i-is it okay?"

Everything happened in a rush. Tza'Hal allowed herself to be dragged along, a glance crossing over her shoulder. Wyverns were still fluttering in the air, and she feared that any moment one of them would come down to pluck them straight off the street. They had to keep moving.

The orc was weary, bloody, and in desperate need of a good night's sleep. She could feel her body protesting, but her training at least dulled the sensation to a mere thrum, rather than a persistent, stabbing agony. She could endure.

Not far away, she could see that Inara was catching up, and a small well of relief seemed to fill within. Tza'Hal ignored it for the moment. She didn't want her relief to be cut short by some Caster's spell. Besides, with their luck, they were going to end up blown sideways or enter a rip in time or some other such catastrophe.

She was still holding out hope that they wouldn't. The inn was in sight by now.

 

[Doctor Jax]

INARA & TZA'HAL & HAL GO ON AN ADVENTURE

While the trio outside rushed to the inn, Azzara brought Trynten down to the basement with the others. He was in poor shape, blood cascading from his body in dripping lines of red as she set him down on the floor. There was no denying he needed immediate care, and so she took off back up the stairs in her search.

Inara was able to catch up to Tza'Hal and Hal outside, and Hal's eyes snapped over to the entrance to the inn at her inquiry. The wyvern that once blocked the way was now just a lifeless obstacle that blocked most of the view of the lower level facade. One of the Shadow Casters spoke to the other before shifting into their clouded form. The Caster burst into the inn, a scream accompanying the sound of glass breaking. Another wave of panic gripped him and set his pace to quicken his steps with the injured Orc in tow.

"They're down in the basement," Hal said, though he was not rightly sure. It looked so far away, as though they gained no distance the more they ran. And as they neared the remaining Shadow Caster turned, her eyes fixing upon the trio that almost seemed to carry a glow. Her hands did not rise to cast a spell, nor did her lips part for an incantation. Instead, she watched them run towards her and the inn behind her until she suddenly turned into her clouded form and flew further into Lauderdine.

"Just keep moving!" Hal commanded. It was best not to hesitate or linger in fear for what the Caster may have intended. Their feet would clatter upon the steps as they entered.

Dutiful as ever, Inara kept running towards the inn. The female caster's glowing eyes still lingered in her vision after she clouded away and Inara, growing ever exhausted, still held on to her cobblestone shield. She did, however, mold it around her injured arm anticipating close quarters within the inn.

Inara's soft soled boots reached the inn's steps first and with a hesitant glance inside she turned to Hal and Tza'Hal who were only a few short strides away. "Should we rush in?" Inara asked, her fist clenching the runed dagger tight. "Or form some kind of attack?"

A fool would rush in, and had it not been for Inara, Hal would have been just that. He carefully let go of Tza'Hal before edging up to the inn's broken door and slowly pushed it open. The interior was dark and seemingly empty. Blood dotted the floorboards darkly that led down into the basement where soft voices could be heard. "It looks empty," Hal whispered. "Watch your step."

Tza'Hal, not one to stand on ceremony, pushed past Hal. Blast anyone who was in the way! She was getting to shelter, and if she was going to die, at the least they could make it a quick death already. She did, indeed, watch her step as she limped into the inn. It was deceptively quiet, compared to the commotion outside.

"Hmph. We should find the cellar."

She was about to go on, but a searing pain in her leg stopped her. Instead, she stood with her hand on an untouched wall, looking for the cellar door.

"I think…" Inara said softly, the deceptively quiet inn unnerving her as she took a hesitant step into the threshold. A trail of blood led off into the darkness and she had no doubt they'd find the cellar at the end of it. She swallowed away her fear and glanced back at Hal as the orc stomped her way into the inn.

"We should follow the blood…" Inara whispered. "It'll guide us…"

Her gaze sought Tza'Hal as she winced in pain and Inara took a moment to compose herself, thinking through her own pain and fear and adrenaline. This day was proving to be never-ending. "Perhaps I should go first." She offered with a grimace, the hilt of her dagger a reassuring presence within her palm.

Tza'Hal, exhausted, realized that she couldn't push herself much longer. She'd just mud-wrestled with a fully grown wyvern, no mean feat. She could probably stand to be a bit tired and let someone else take the lead.

And that blasted leg of hers! Curse Baladuri archers and their bows! The next bow she saw, she was going to break over her knee.

Tza'Hal gestured for Inara to go ahead of her. Patience, master Darian's voice echoed in her head, is a blessing. Use it while you have it.

Fueled by hope and adrenaline and a solidity mirrored by her attunement, Inara took another step into the shadowy inn. Her eyes scanned the entry hall and like the rest of Lauderdine was in devastation. She warded her heart against guilt ridden thoughts and took three more steps into the darkness. Raising the runed dagger slightly, Inara used the soft azure glow to locate which direction the blood trail went. The silence of the inn was haunting, and each footfall against the wooden planks sounded like canon fire to her sensitive ears. Though blood seemed to be splattered wherever she looked, there was a congregation of it to her left where it rounded a corner and disappeared from her line of sight.

She grounded her emotions; found a balance between suppressing her fear and drawing strength from it. The unknown lay buried between the trio and the rest of Shae Pippa's fellowship - between them and the Seed. Inara glanced back at Hal, praying his mind was sharper than hers. Her mind blanked on any concise plan that didn't involve a surprise attack.

"What do you think?" She whispered behind her, mindful of her surroundings.

She took another step forward, her boots sliding across the blood stained floor. Then Inara heard faint rhythmic noises, sounds of speech beyond the wall and deeper within the inn.

"I hear voices…" Inara whispered urgently. "Coming from this way it seems."

Hal paused, unsure of anything anymore after his experience within The Darkness. But he could hear Charlie's voice, and Wynleth's as well. He recounted what he saw before they entered the inn. The two Shadow Casters did not remain within the building, and while there was the possibility of trickery, there was something within him that was sure it was real. He looked over at Inara and nodded in assurance.

"I do to," he said in return. "Hurry into the cellar."

 

[Effervescent]

Hal Midigan
A Collab with @Elle Joyner

---

​

[BCOLOR=transparent]It felt like it took ages to reach the lower level of the inn. A chill ran through him at the sight of the cellar, dimly lit by a glow near the stranger who paid the others no mind as they finally converged once again from the fray. The reign of chaos could still be heard in muted explosions and cracks of spells. If it weren't for the overall exhaustion and utterly poor state of being everyone was in, he would be more inclined to wrap them all in thankful embraces. He, too, still felt shaky from his own experience that still haunted the forward spaces of his thoughts. Were they doing the right thing? Would this very decision to run result in the deaths of all in Lauderdine? A sudden realization hit him heavily on his heart.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"The greater good," he murmured. This was just the same mindset as the hollow-eyed woman. Just as they sacrificed lives to connect to another world, he was just as guilty for sacrificing the lives of Lauderdine for his own goals. The notion made him wander aimlessly through the basement, his mind shutting out the world as he drifted in conflict.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The knife she clutched dropped from her grasp with a clatter to the stone floor of the cells and for a heartbeat, Wyn couldn't move, rooted in her place by a twisted sense of distorted reality. She'd thought it before, after he had recovered from his collapse outside of the inn, but she was certain now that some cruel delusion had made him appear, an apparition, desperation manifested to convince her he wasn't gone.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]And in truth he seemed so like a ghost that in that brief moment she was transfixed by her fear… frozen in place by indecision. Then of their own volition, driven by the ruination of reason, by abject, brazen abandon of it, her feet flew and with a broken sob, she threw her arms around his shoulder.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His arms wrapped around her before he even registered the embrace. Hal settled into Wynleth as his arms tightened their hold, almost as if he was afraid she would be swept away into the darkness surrounding them. The dark unsettled him now, and if it weren't for the foreigner's light he might have panicked. "By the maker, Wynleth," he said in an airy whisper through her golden locks. He situated his head closer to her ear. "What are we doing?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Breathing out, the sound a shudder through her tears she shook her head and as she pulled back, her eyes met his with a focused, blazed severity. Her hands, which unwound briefly from around his neck reached up and tentatively, they hovered over his face for a moment, fingers trembling, brushing his jaw with such practiced delicacy, "...The... the monastery. I... I thought... The darkness... I thought I'd lost you..."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"I thought I was lost," he responded grimly. He hadn't want to let her go, but she had pulled away to speak. Hal took her trembling hands in his and brought them down gently before giving them a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]She could feel him... his hold, and it was strong and reassuring, but there was a part of her... a part of her that remembered that oblivion so well, that remembered the utter emptiness of it. She was afraid, afraid to trust, afraid to believe... [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"...What... what if I've gone mad? What if... what if it's not real...?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]He released her hands only to be able to cup her face lightly, a smile breaking only briefly as he looked upon her almost searchingly. "Then," he began, "I think we will have to be mad together, if you don't mind the company."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]It was soft, the laugh... and sadder than she'd meant for it to sound, escaping like a hiccup. She brushed her fingertips along the back of his hand, her eyes falling closed as she leaned into his touch, "If we are both mad, then please..." Her eyes opened again and found his, "Never let sanity return."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]His lips brushed against her forehead, heart fluttering in the solidity of the woman before him. This was real. This was not the Darkness nor the vision of another world. Hal needed this anchor to function and continue on, and as he stepped back from Wynleth, he kept a hand in hers and turned to the rest of the group. "Where is the-" Hal's words halted as he noticed the battered state Trynten was in. There looked to be more blood on him than rightly should be, red spattered about his face and body in angry pools. "Maker... Do we have any healing supplies? This man needs attention."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]It was a moment that had hardly seemed real to begin with, shattered by reality so quickly it was almost jarring. But these were the circumstances they were under. This was the truth of the matter. Warmth fled as she stepped back, her own eyes twisting to the others and a frown crossed her lips as she recognized just how dire their situation had become, "...We should... we might find some upstairs. The inn?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"Here," Inara whispered hoarsely. She unslung the pack from her shoulder, it's leather strap clinging to her bow in the process. With a yank she freed the pack and tossed it in Hal's direction. Though the cellar was illuminated with the foreigners light, Inara was having difficulties seeing - her head throbbed something fierce and the strength she had called upon was fading quickly. "I have-" [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]
[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Inara struggled with the words, struggled with standing upright. Her vision swam and her balance shifted. She reached out with her good arm and felt the smooth stone of the cellar behind her. Leaning heavily against it, Inara slid down until she was sitting with her head between her knees. The pain in her mind so overwhelming she could retch. [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"Healing supplies…" She croaked. "I-in the bag… Maker save us…" With a groan of pain she clutched her temples with both palms while tears spilled from her eyes. "I-I'm fine… Just save Tryn… I only n-need a minute…" And all at once, Inara succumbed to the oblivion.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]
[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Hal took the bag in hand and rummaged through the contents. Herbs were mixed with canteens that sloshed with its contents as he pushed them aside with one hand. His fingers grasped around rolls of fresh bandages. With a nod of his head in taking mental inventory, he set the bag to rest near Trynten for when he would return. [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Without explanation, he made his way back up the stairs, his pace quick until he reached the edge leading to the door to the empty main level. He could still hear shouting and claps of spells and the bays of wyverns. Cautiously, slowly, Hal pulled the door open to take in the darkened spaces sporadically lit by the convergence of Arcane and Shadow. There was a crash that shook the very foundation of the large inn, bottles clinking together closer to the bar as a wyvern squawked near the back of the building. Hal paused momentarily, his head turning towards the broken door of the entrance as its splintered remains was kept ajar.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]As he fled up the stairs, Wyn stood in place, cautioned by fear. Shadow Magic was by no uncertain terms a dangerous, tricky thing, and the notion that it all might be some terrible game continued to plague her mind. But as she turned to watch as the others searched still, for the way out of the cellar, Wyn was struck by a different trepidation. These were her friends… dear as family, and even if, somehow, she had splintered her own reality, driven herself mad with grief, she had a responsibility to see to it that they survived.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Twisting round again, she took the steps two at a time. Something struck the building and she rattled on uneasy legs as dust and debris scuttled down from the ceiling overhead, but bracing herself, she made it to the top and pouring out into the inn, she found Hal near the entrance. [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Hal, or Shadow's cruel trick… [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Either way, Wyn carefully approached, and as he stared with a certain dazed quality towards the doors, she reached for his hand, her fingers folding through his, "I know what it's like… the Darkness. I still see it, sometimes, when I close my eyes. The draw of it… how it calls to you, to step through. I cannot imagine what you saw inside… but I swear to you, Hal, we'll find a way to make it stop. All of it." With her other hand, she reached up, cupping his jaw to bring his eyes away from the door, her thumb a tender stroke across the strength of his cheekbone, "The isolation… it's the worst of it. But you need to know, Hal that whatever you have to do, I will follow… You need never fear facing it alone."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Her hand once again brought him back from his thoughts. Hal looked down at Wynleth with uncertainty. "If we don't give up the Seed of Life, everyone in Lauderdine will die," he said quietly, distantly, and then made his way to the bar with determination. He then spoke louder so as to carry to the Sur. "But if we give up the Seed of Life this world will be thrown into a dark era. Lauderdine is not the first to fall, and it won't be the last. Are we doing them an injustice? We're no better than the very threat we fight."[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]The main level of the inn was the tavern with tables and chairs situated through the open spaces. The fireplace dripped with water where someone had snuffed out the flames. Plates of partially eaten meals and drinks were abandoned, and a few chairs were overturned. Hal maneuvered through the labyrinth and rounded the bar in search for alcohol intended for the care of Trynten's wounds. He was visibly frustrated by the entirety of their situation as he hurried through reading the labels upon the bottles.[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"...You can't really think that, Hal. That after all they have done, we are anything like them. If Lauderdine falls... it falls because they brought it down. Because they chose to put their own selfish needs above those of so many. This is what they do! This is what they strive to do… To twist your thoughts and pervert reason and judgment. To make you see the world the way that they do. Hal…"[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Moving after him, she caught hold of his arm, to still the frantic searching and turning him to face her, she pressed her palm flat to his chest, his pulse beneath her fingertips, "...This… This right here, is what separates you from them. It is the very essence of what makes you different. Do you know how desperately… I wanted to give up, when I thought you were gone? But I… I could hear you, in my mind… reminding me that what we are doing is bigger than all of us. And I believe that, Hal, with all my heart. I trust that. I know better than most… that you cannot save everyone. No matter how hard you try. But that you want to, Hal? That you can't perceive a way through this with any loss counted acceptable… That is what makes you different. That you care… that you l...love..." [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Lowering her gaze, she shook her head, her hand dropping back to her side, "So long as we hold to that… they cannot win. They cannot hope to."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Wynleth anchored him once again, and as she moved her hand away he set a bottle down upon the counter with barely a sound. His heart was pounding in his chest from anxiety and anticipation, his body still shaking in brief fits that vibrated down his spine. Hal felt like he would go numb at any given moment if he did not keep moving, but he stared at the woman before him unable.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"We can make sure our own make it through," he said, and reached down for her hand to bring it to his lips. He brushed his thumb over where he had kissed her skin before releasing and grabbing the bottle of alcohol. His hand delicately touched her shoulder as he moved past and through towards another set of stairs leading to the upper level[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"How is your wrist?" he called back to her. "How's Charlie?"[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]"He's frightened..." She murmured after him, though her eyes remained focused on her hand for a moment, her heart pressing up against her ribs in great, throbbing beats, "I can't blame him. To be handed such responsibility..." [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Glancing up, she found her way to the foot of the stairs, pausing there as she lifted her injured arm, turning it thoughtfully. Black and blue stippling had crawled along the swollen, pale skin, wrapping in a thick band at the base of her hand, "...The splint broke. I... I don't know that there's much that can be done for it, anyhow."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]The second floor was darker than the main. The only light came from a few windows and the stairwell and it made Hal halt momentarily. There was a short dresser tucked in the alcove that caught his attention, and he set the bottle atop it before rummaging through its drawers.[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"See if you can find a sewing kit in any of the rooms," he said as he sifted through pillow cases and table runners. "Or an iron fire stoker. And candlesticks. If we can't find anything to stitch Trynten's wounds closed we may have to burn them shut."[/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Grimacing at the thought, Wyn moved swiftly up the stairs, hesitating only when she'd reached the first door on the opposite side. It was nearly palpable, the darkness beyond the frame, pulsing with the radiating flickering from outside. Breathing out, she pushed her way inside and moved to the chest in the corner, cracking it open. [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]There were no sewing tools, but she grabbed the few blankets inside and a handful of candlesticks, before rising to her feet. As she turned, something smacked hard against the side of the inn. Rattling forward, Wyn gave a small yelp, truncated by a slamming sound as the door to the room crashed shut, pitching her into near blackness. Moving swiftly, dropping the blankets and candles on the bed, she reached through the dark, gripped the handle, but as she yanked the wood only groaned stubbornly, the door fixed tight against the frame. [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent][/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Sudden, cloying panic clutched at her like hands, clawing and sharp and stepping back, she sucked in a gasp as her stomach twisted anxiously. Ignoring the sharp pain in her wrist, she grasped the knob tighter with both hands and tugged as hard as she could, crying out.[/BCOLOR]​

 

[Elle Joyner]

[bg=#B8904D]

---

The inn shook, and the door shut with a harsh crack. Hal looked up from the dresser. "Wyn?" he called. He could hear the rattling of the knob and her sudden cries. Hal's own panic moved him from his task to rush to her aid, his own hand attempting to turn the knob of the door she was stuck behind. "Wyn! Calm down! I need you to talk to me. What's going on?"

The intensity of the darkness seemed only to worsen as she pulled and pried as the useless handle, and Wyn could feel her heart pulsing, pounding in her heart, the edges of her vision filling with stars. As quickly as the door had slammed, Hal's voice broke through, and like a guiding light, Wyn fixated on the sound. If he was there, she would be fine... she had to be...

"It's stuck! The door. I can't... I can't get it open!"

Hal pressed himself closer to the door so that his voice could carry through more easily. "I know it's frightening," Hal began calmly, "but it's important you remain calm. You're still here with me. It's just a bedroom. Do you have an object with a bit of heft to it near you? Anything you can use like a hammer. Maybe a luster or a fire stoker?"

Shutting her eyes, leaning her forehead against the door, she bit back a whimper, "It's so dark... I can't see anything."

"You're going to have to feel around," he said. "Start where you are and go around the room carefully. I'll be right here."

Shivering, she straightened, turning first to the left, then the right. A piece of her knew that it was in her mind, the absolute darkness... There had been light to see by before, but alone and trapped, it felt as though she'd fallen into a void. Concentrating on breathing, on the pounding beat in her chest, she moved and reaching out, carefully, cautiously felt around the room. She could faintly recall the location of the bed and the chest, and she discovered a desk when she smacked her knee into it, but it was the feel of stone beneath her hands that brought her back to rationality. The small fireplace... Moving faster, now, scraping her fingers across the mantel she eventually came to it's end and scouring around, her hand connected with the wrought iron rack, upon which sat a metal poker.

Grasping it, she heaved in a breath and moving back the way she'd come, she found the door knob again, "I've got it!"

While he heard her shuffle about on the other end of the closed door, Hal took a few steps backwards to the room across. His hands moved the open door and studied it, but his attention snapped back to Wynleth as she called out.

"Great!" he said in return as he moved back to the seam of the doorway. "Come back to the door. The door is connected to the frame by three hinges. Each hinge is held in place by a sort of thick nail. You need to use what you have to hammer the nail out from the hinges. Use an upward swing, but try not to use your injured hand."

Feeling along the frame, she discovered the hinges and focusing as hard as she could on Hal's instructions, she took the aim and swung. The first several swings missed, the eventually, metal collided with the first pin and with a clatter, it hit the ground, rolling backwards. All in all, it took another few minutes before she'd successfully unlodged the other two pins, and as the third pinged against the hardwood floor, the door clattered from it's position on the frame. With a careful tug, she eased it forward, eased it open and with the door safely out of the way, she dropped the poker and threw herself towards the man on the other side, arms looping around his waist.

His arms wrapped around her and held her tightly. "See?" Hal said as he brushed his hand down her hair. His heart was still pounding from his own masked panic, now soothing by her renewed presence. "Nothing to worry about."

"Thanks to you..." She hiccuped, and pushing back against the stronghold of his arms, Wyn rose up onto her toes as far as she could and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek.

His cheeks flushed with heat that emanated from the touch of her lips. The fluttering of his heart returned like butterflies batting their wings within him. A sheepish smile broke his hardened expression as a soft chuckle hefted his lungs. He gave her arm a squeeze as he passed to grab the iron stoker. "Was there anything of use in there?" Hal asked as he looked past the now unhinged door.

"I found candles..." She noted, though as he passed she made no moves towards the room, "There, on the cot... and blankets, in case he needs to be carried."

Hal moved into the room and quickly retrieved the listed items. Candlesticks had littered the floor around the blankets she had gathered, and he stuffed them all haphazardly between the folded cot. It only took a minute, and he was back out in the darkened hallway where he smiled over at Wynleth. "Don't look so grim," he said as he held out the items to her. "You did well, and we are alright. Do you mind taking these down to the basement? I want to sweep through the rest of the rooms before returning."

They shouldn't have struck her the way they did, but as he held the items out to her, Wyn felt her pulse quicken, shaking her head anxiously. Too many times, she'd come too close to losing him. Too many times, she'd been so sure he was gone. She felt suddenly and overwhelmingly convinced if she left him, she would never see him again, "We should stay together. It's safer together..?"

His head nodded somewhat as Wynleth refused to go back with the others. They would need to be quick in their task. All that was left was to find a sewing kit, and the inn carried what looked to be half a dozen rooms. Setting the already gathered supplies against the wall, Hal began into the next room rummaging through the drawers of each end table. "Even if you just find a needle and thread," he said to her. "We can't linger for too much longer. Don't spend too much time in each room, alright? Every moment counts, and by the looks of it we don't have much time."

He was right. Even without Trynten's injuries being so severe, there was no telling how much time they had... how long the group outside could hold off the Shadow. The Wyvern's that survived were still out there as well, and pelting the building with abandon. Haste, it seemed, took precedent over fear...

Nodding, Wyn turned and as Hal went one way, she went the other, taking even, steady breathes to keep her nerves at bay. The rooms were dark, but with the doors secured open, she was able to search quickly and as efficiently as she could manage. The first two rooms availed little, but in the third, tucked away in a drawer beneath the window, she discovered a small kid and with a triumphant cry, she returned with swiftness to the hall, "I've got it! Hal! I found one!"

Rummaging through the dark proved to be a challenge for Hal. This was supposed to be a quick endeavor, which it could have been could he use his sight more readily. But he was reliant on what he could feel, and any object encountered and every tin box felt had to be examined with care and consideration. By the final room he was beginning to contemplate how to properly burn the gashes upon Trynten's face without damaging too much. He thought of internal bleeding and whether or not he could even determine if that would be his ailment in the aftermath. But Wynleth's voice called through the dark with news of success, and he rushed out into the hallway,

"Let's go," Hal said as he ran down the hall to pick up the other supplies. "Hopefully they've found the way out by now."

Balancing the sewing kit, Wyn took hold of the candles that had been rolled into a blanket, as Hal collected the other supplies. It was an odd assortment, and whether or not any of it might actually be useful was going to depend on a closer look at Tryn, but they'd done what they could.

The frustration would come, undoubtedly, in the notion that none of them had medical knowledge. But as they had this entire trip thus far, they would make do. They had no other choice. This was how they would survive, and this was how they would, by the will of the Maker, find their way to the World Tree...

Glancing over to Hal, for the first time since he'd returned, she managed a small, weary smile, "...If they can't, Hal... If... if we can't get out of here. I want you to know I'm glad... I'm glad I was with you, at the end."

His footsteps were quick down the stairs, and the bulk of the cot clattered against the tables and chairs scattered on the main floor. Hal looked back at Wynleth briefly as she spoke to him, and he spared her a smile in return. "We'll make it," he assured. "We'll get out of this. Chin up, darling."

Biting the edge of her lip, Wyn nodded. It wasn't entirely reassuring considering their predicament was far from over, but to hear the tenderness behind those words brought her to a place of comfort. Tucking the blankets beneath her arm, she made for the cellar door, pulling it open so he could go first, "...We'll make it..." She repeated delicately.

But first, they needed to find a way into the tunnels.

---

TAGS: Collab with @Effervescent, @Cloudily, @rissa, @Doctor Jax, @Red Thunder

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[Effervescent]

The foreigner spared a glance over to Charlie before he ran his fingers along the stonework. Blue light glistened with runes and then faded as soon as it appeared. "I am Djavi Nam Abil," he said to the half-elf. "Our paths cross in fortune. I have been to Lauderdine before. Been to this very room decades ago." The elf looked behind him if only for a moment to observe the gathered and Trynten's dying form. "He is a burden. I can give him a peaceful death."

Hal made his way down the stairs once again, supplies gripped tightly as he felt the pull of the earth threaten to take it from him. But he made it to the cool, dry cellar and set it all down next to Trynten. "You will do no such thing," Hal said. He stuck his fingers under the man's nose to check to see if he was even still breathing. "Charlie?" Hal produced the iron poker from within the pile of blankets and walked over to the half-elf.

"I need you to heat this up for me," he said as he placed it next to him, and then returned back to Trynten's side. He dumped the contents of Inara's bag out into the dark as well as the candlesticks and blankets from the cot. He rolled a few sticks over towards Charlie as well, the wax clattering and rebounding off of Charlie's boots. "Please light these too, if you don't mind."

Currently

Trynten is dying. The team has to either work to save his life or decide to let him die. Either way, the clock is ticking. He's lost two pints of blood, most of which would be coming from the agitated wound from the previous day.
From Inara's bag:

• Salves
• Herbs
• Bandages
• Clean water (in canteens)

From Wynleth and Hal:

• A cot (for possible carrying)
• Unlit candlesticks
• Iron poker
• Sewing kit
• Blankets
• Adding in a fresh set of clothes for nekkid Trynten
• Alcohol in a bottle, something like moonshine

Feel free to have your characters interact with Trynten and Hal even to take over to help sew or close his wounds and clean the man up!

@Red Thunder @rissa @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

CHARLIE REDDEMAN
@all y'all​

Before the stranger had a chance to answer his very meek question Charlie heard voices from outside and above the cellar. He tensed again, wondering if maybe this time was when the Shadow Casters would enter, maybe it was all over. But instead, a familiar face entered the cellar; Azzara. She carried the limp form of Tryn, who was wrapped in what Charlie recognized as Azzara's cloak. The Maldivir left Tryn on the floor eliciting a shocked squeak from the boy, and then Azzara disappeared again.

A choked sob escaped Charlie as fell to his knees beside Tryn, a bloody mess that hardly even looked to be breathing. He didn't even know where to begin -- Charlie could hardly even tell what part of Tryn was actually bleeding the most because there were so many gashes. Before he could even begin to process his plan of attack (which would have been to panic some more) more voices came from above the cellar.

First came Tza, and Charlie's mouth fell open in awe. He glanced back at Tryn before running up to Tza, fully intending to tackle her with a hug before he remembered her injury. "Tza," He breathed excitedly, eyes lighting up like the young half-elf's eyes had early into the journey. He moved close enough for her so that she could use him as a sort of crutch once more as Inara and Hal followed behind the orc. He had already partially resigned himself to the fact that they were all gone, and to see their faces lifted the guilt off his chest incredibly so.

"I shouldn't have left you," Was the only thing he could manage, clinging close to Tza'Hal and then glancing behind him. Wyn embraced Hal and Inara off to the side looked weary, but alive. Charlie paused, standing still in the middle of the cellar, trying to collect his thoughts. Tryn, lay on the floor, perhaps bleeding out. Wyn and Hal had now disappeared up the stairs. Inara -- Charlie's posture tightened as he saw Inara slumped against the wall. "Oh, no.." Charlie whispered. "Inara.." How -- how could he take care of both of them? Tza, and Wyn -- they were injured too, and this stranger was still feeling around the walls and Charlie did not like the look of him and --

"I am Djavi Nam Abil," he said to the half-elf. "Our paths cross in fortune. I have been to Lauderdine before. Been to this very room decades ago." The elf looked behind him if only for a moment to observe the gathered and Trynten's dying form. "He is a burden. I can give him a peaceful death."

"A peaceful death?!" Charlie shouted, and Hal's protest came just afterwards as well. Charlie turned to Hal at the mention of his name, eyes going to the iron poker and then watching the Balduri dump the contents of Inara's bag onto the floor, the wax of the candles clattering among his boots and making him step back. Charlie nodded vigorously, eyeing the foreign elf once more before kneeling down to get to work. For what Charlie was heating the poker up for, it hadn't quite registered yet, but he was prepared to do whatever Hal told him too.

Charlie lit the fire in palm, before taking the iron poker with the other and beginning to press it against the flame in his palm, watching the metal until it turned a satisfactory shade of orange-ish red. "Hal," Charlie said to catch the man's attention and then hand him the poker. Once he'd passed it off, Charlie began to light the candlesticks, switching from his palm to a flame on the tip of his finger and lighting them one by one. He reveled in the fact that he had a job to do - it took his mind off of worrying and instead he could focus on his task. Gonna light the candlesticks for Hal and stop panicking. Charlie assured himself, brow furrowing with concentration. ​

 

[Elle Joyner]

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At the foot of the cellar steps, Wyn lowered her supplies and straightening, watched as Hal moved immediately towards Tryn's unconscious form. It was incredible, his attentiveness, his concern for the others. After everything that he'd been through, that his concern hung largely on the others in their party… It was endearing, but it frightened her. He would burn himself out before too long…

Her eyes roving the rest of the room, she spotted the brunette slumped back in the corner and with a small twinge of concern, she moved over to Inara's side, sinking down beside her. From the looks of it, she'd been through more than her share of struggles, and it had taken it's toll. There were no physical injuries that Wyn could see, and while that wasn't necessarily promising, considering how she looked hardly reflected how she looked, but with nothing immediately disconcerting, the mild wave of panic abated into a slowed torrent of sympathy.

Dropping back against the wall, she shifted until her legs unfolded in front of her and with a small sigh, she gently eased Inara's form until her head rested in her lap and with her uninjured hand, she brushed the matted brown ribbons away from the elf's face, smoothing them back over her crown.

Her eyes traveled to watch the others, tending to Tryn, to the stranger working still to find the entrance to the tunnels. Despite what she had said earlier to Hal, his question had hung on her mind, clinging uncomfortably. What did separate them from the Shadow users? What made their mission any more noble or just?

This… decidedly. Their overwhelming compassion for each other. That any one of them could have abandoned the cause, gone off on their own. That they could have decided Trynten was too far gone to even try to save, that it wasn't worth the effort when there was still so much peril at their heels… But the Seed was only a part of what propelled them. In truth, over time, they had bonded… all of them differently, but with no less certainty. Even separated as they had been, they weren't willing to leave anyone behind or abandon each other.

Her heart felt fragile as glass and leaning back into the cool stone, she shut her eyes as tears welled thick and hot, burning behind her lids, her fingers continuing to comb gently through Inara's hair, in soft, soothing strokes.

This was ultimately what the fight had always been about… The people. Fellow man. Ensuring the survival of the people they loved and even the people didn't know. And that, above all else, was what separated them from the Shadow Casters and always would. Lauderdine had been greatly damaged by the attack, and undoubtedly, the damage would be severe - one loss being one loss too many…

But getting the Seed to the World Tree… bringing an end to the Shadow… while it wouldn't undo what was done, it would make it stand for something. They would ensure that every life lost, no matter who they were was going to matter in the end.

Opening her eyes, she tipped her gaze to Hal, frowning delicately, thoughtfully, "This... " Her voice chimed, quietly, barely carrying across to the Balduri, "This is what makes us different…"

---

TAGS: @Effervescent, @rissa

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