The Wishing Tree

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Aspen contemplated his remark about his mother. What had brought that up? Aspen was rather embarrassed, for she didn't want to seem like an old lady like he was suggesting. The large saber that Aspen cared so much about walked between the two as the headed to the fletcher, sky darkening.

There was a light in the boy's eyes that hinted that he wasn't letting off what he was thinking. Aspen wished that he would, there was something very interesting about this individual. Though, for how bad Aspen wanted to know about him, she wasn't going to ask. Whether he was like Aspen herself or different, Aspen didn't like to tell much about herself unless it's asked. She felt as if that was boasting and that was one thing that Aspen did not like to do.

Aspen looked up at the sky as they made their way to the shop and let out a small sigh- hopefully the fletcher would still be willing for work. She didn't want to bother or harass the man with how hard-working he was. Being a fletcher must be a very demanding job, after all. As the sun drifted behind the horizon, causing giddy blue to form to vibrant pink, Aspen looked over at this man. She didn't even know his name, and he didn't know hers, yet he was being very polite to take time out of his day..er, night.. to direct Aspen to a shop. Perhaps she would catch his name after the fletcher.

The time they arrived at the shop, the sky held stars that flickered in the violet sky. Aspen lowered her head, she didn't want anyone to notice her glowing eyes. Though how hard the Night Elf tried, there was no way she could hide her ghastly pink eyes, unless she wanted to walk around blind. However, that would not be good considering she was a huntress and minor rogue.

The stranger, no that wasn't the right word for him.. Gently nudged Aspen into the shop and Aspen quickly dipped her her to the fletcher. With a large yawn and stretch, Lansing curled up outside the shop while the two stayed inside to do business. Lansing wasn't fully trustworthy of the new-comer yet, but the cat was aware he could rush in with the sound of help at any moment. Aspen had to slouch slightly, for this building wasn't built to meet her height. It was rather embarrassing, having to slouch in a building. "Good afternoon, sir." Aspen started, "I've come to purchase some arrows, if you don't mind."

(ooc/ Can you play the fletcher for this?)
 
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Lilpuff said:
But Callie was persistent. She wrenched herself out of his grasp and walked over to the girl, only to stumble into the new girl who was standing nearby, a hungry look in her bright red eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to knock into you..." Callie started, but stopped when she saw the girl's eyes.
Click to expand...


(ooc/ You weren't applying to me, were you?)
 
The fletcher smiled at the prospect of some good business, even if the customer had to stoop down to even enter the building. "Oh, but of course." he replied, the smile never leaving his lips. His experience with hunters and rangers so far was that whenever they came for more arrows, they came for a full refill. He turned to one of his storage barrels and pulled out almost enough arrows, which caused his expression to falter a bit. "Well, I don't have enough arrows, it seems." he admitted with a chuckle. "If you'll give me a few minutes, I'll go put some more together from my parts storage." At this, he placed the completed arrows back in the barrel and slipped into his back room to begin putting more arrows together from the excess tips, shafts, and fletchings he's crafted before.

Gerome had taken up sitting against the wall again in the meantimes, thinking about various things but mainly about this elf. He had heard of Night Elves, and had even seen a few, but he'd never actually interacted with any. He would attribute the fact that he didn't know her name at all to this, but he knew that was just from negligence in etiquette. He made a mental note to ask after her business with the fletcher was finished, and continued to let his mind wander. As he thought more about it, the more it made sense that a complete stranger would be concerned about his use of the Arcane. The Night Elves brought about the Sundering of their world through the misuse of magic. It stands to reason that they'd want to prevent the same from happening to others. The mana-addiction of Gerome's elven ancestors notwithstanding, magic is a very powerful force and in the wrong hands can bring about mass destruction. Gerome shuddered a little at the thought of himself going mad with power, especially due to what he intended to wish for if he found the Wishing Tree. He shook his head and looked up, noticing that the fletcher had gone into the back room. Gerome stood up and walked up to the counter next to the elf. "You'd think he'd have enough arrows, huh?" he asked, looking at her with a hint of a smirk on his face.
 
"Huh? Oh," The man's remark caught Aspen off-guard, causing her to jump slightly. "Yes, you would think so. But I don't mind waiting, really. Making arrows that work properly must be some work. I know that I was never good at it when I tried to get into crafting. This hands were not made for making arrows, that's for sure." Aspen smiled as she recalled her many efforts at crafting arrows. She had tried just earlier today to prevent herself from going into town as much as she could. Her arrow came out splintered and crooked. And thinking that it would do, Aspen attempted to shoot it, only just barely missing Lansing's whiskers. The large cat had been hostile towards Aspen for the next hour and that had convinced Aspen to never attempt to make her own arrows again. Aspen laughed at the thought then turned to the man, "Have you ever tried to craft arrows?" Then Aspen thought again. "I mean, actual material arrows out of crafted materials... Not Arcane.." Aspen tried to make that sound as light as possible, she didn't want to offend the man who had helped her so much so far.

His use of Arcane was very mysterious to Aspen. He didn't seem to have any disastrous intentions with his use of magic. Surely he was aware of the consequences, however? It would be terrible to see another race or being be corrupted by the magic. Perhaps Aspen could train this man how to be one with nature instead of taking from nature. Personally, Aspen didn't know many spells and didn't have the gift to work with many different kinds of magic, but she understood the elements to know how to teach another the basics and beginnings. But Aspen couldn't stop thinking that... Maybe this man knew more about the elves than he was saying? Aspen thought she would bring that up once she knew his name, to make it more polite. She hoped it wouldn't be too awkward, but it was just about killing her with curiosity.
 
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It was getting more complicated now. Instead of only helping the informant escape she now had a sort of time limit attached to her. The children didn't really seem to pose a problem for Ledinia, they could even be allies. The problem was the new arrival,the one with the hungry stare. It's the same stare. She had seen it before but most of the time in winter and on the face of a wild animal. When she saw eyes like that she always made sure to run and hide as far away as she could, because something with those eyes ate anything that satisfied. You come either between them and their prey or you became one, either way beings with those eyes rip you apart. The only difference was that the girl had not done so yet and it infused doubt into Ledinia. Should I leave her, I don't have a real reason to protect her right. The hungry one does she notice me? I can run away. What about the children. Am I going to throw my life away for strangers? One doesn't even seem to appreciate my help. The thoughts took only a moment to run through her head before she came to an unsure decision. Slowly she took a step between the informant and the hungry one. She didn't understand it herself, all her thoughts were leading to her running away but she still stood between them. I'm the only one really capable of fighting here after all. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. While standing there while eyeing the girl she made a mental link with the children before she talked to the three of them. "This one is hungry, I can't predict what she will do. Just get away from here I will try to keep her attention." Although her doubt about protecting them was still there her decision was solid and she showed her teeth to the hungry one.
 
Kassie's faded ruby eyes finally looked up from the wonderfully scented bloody injury. Venom filled her mouth like water, yet even when she swallowed it her throat felt so dry. Her eyes met with a female, also human. A whiff of tainted blood rushed through the air as the wind blew back her dark raven hair. The fox.

Taking a step back, she realized her senses were overwhelmed. Too much blood. Too many terrible thoughts. Holding her breath Kassie backed away, hand over her nose and full lips. You can't, it's too much. Once she started she'd never stop, but how long has it been? Closing her eyes and turning on her heels and letting her hunger simmer she ran. Away from the wind, the danger and light... Kassie's umbrella slowed her down and opened her eyes.

Dark. Her hand came down to close her umbrella at the same time she scraped her arm against a tree, looking sideways, then glanced forward and slowed. The town. Her sprint turned into a run, then walk, and finally a complete stop in the middle of a dirt path within the town. Her eyes scanned around, it was dark but she could see well. Gulping down venom and putting her hand on her knees she bent over and breathed. Fuck. You can't eat. You know better than that... It smelled so good... No! No. No it didn't. You can't. If you have to starve to death you can't. Pulling up and licking her lips, she clicked the curved cane into her belt and ran her fingers through her hair.

Kassie felt light headed, tired, hungry. Unfortunately for her vampires don't get the kindness of sleep, the escape of reality. It increased productivity, or could if she wasn't so busy being hungry all the damn time. Fuck that was so close.
 
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Gerome chuckled as she jumped in surprise and leaned against the counter, looking at her as she responded to him. A hunter who couldn't craft arrows? Now he'd seen everything. He smiled at the thought, but didn't entertain it any further. There was joking around and then there was being hurtful, and Gerome felt that would have been too harsh to say to a stranger. Even if she has been surprisingly receptive to his jokes. When she asked him if he had ever crafted arrows without magic, he noticed the small hesitation before she said the word "Arcane". This caused Gerome to laugh a little, but not mockingly. He turned to face her so he was leaning sideways on the counter. "Come now, there's no need to tiptoe around it with me." he quipped, giving her a genuine smile. "Now, to answer your question. Honestly, I haven't had the need to craft arrows, with or without magic." He answered frankly, and traced a pattern in the air, leaving behind a little glinting trail as he did so. It wasn't anything in particular, and he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "As you probably know, one has to practically dedicate their entire life to the pursuit of magic. As such, there wasn't much time in my life for anything else." He started drawing randomly in the air again. "My father taught me how to use magic, and my mother taught me how not to abuse it." At this, he dismissed the pattern in the air in much the same way as the previous, and looked back at the elf with a smile.

"Arrows are done!" The fletcher called from his back room. He then came out and, after pulling the original arrows out from the barrel, tied them together with a string to bundle them together. After receiving payment, he handed the bundle over to the elf and bowed with a smile. "Pleasure doing business with you." he stated, waving off the duo as Gerome thanked him and took point as they exited the shop. "Well, I suppose you'll be going now," he said, turning to the night elf, "but I'd still like to introduce myself." He smiled widely once more and offered a handshake. "I'm Gerome Stahlbrand, pleased to meet you."
 
As the man had traced figures through the air, Aspen watch with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Did he find amusement in using magic as he pleased? Aspen personally didn't understand the use of magic except for need, but that was her own opinion, and as she always said- to each their own. Despite his words of encouragement for joking, Aspen was still hostile with her humor. She had never had friends or family that she could joke around with. Her family had been a very serious bunch and Aspen was always drawn more towards the beasts of the forests over other elves. Having a liking for Moonstalkers over Night Elves made socialization pretty difficult. That was one of the main reasons why Aspen had left her Night Elf village at age 35 to live in the forest to travel with Lansing. Her parents were heart-broken and her sister begged her not to go, but the family knew it had been best for her. At Gerome's mention of his family, it made Aspen's heart ache. She missed her parents. Maybe she ought to visit sometime soon? It was strange that Gerome's parents had such different intentions with magic, however it was good that his mother had the sense to teach him that abusing the Arcane would never result in good fortune. Any Arcane and magic user should be aware of the risks. Gerome seemed to know of these risks, yet ignored them in a sense.

After paying (and tipping) the fletcher in a generous amount of gold, the two walked out of the shop and into the night. Lansing's glowing indian-red eyes illuminated the spot at which he had taken guard, then bounded over to Aspen, two orbs of cheer. Aspen rested a hand on the saber who, with a yawn, indicated he was tired. The saber was such a baby at times. "I'm Aspen Windrunner.. Kaldorei of Darnassus. And this is Lansing." The large, brown cat growled a friendly greeting and his eerie blue stripes ruffled as he shook out his pelt. "And he is very tired. Actually, for as unsettling it may be for me, I'd like to spend the night in town.. I have more errands to run before I head back to camp, and I don't think any shops would still be open. Is there an inn somewhere or at least a nice alley for me to camp out at?" The idea of staying in a people town made Aspen very nervous and almost sick, she wanted to get home as quickly as she could. Though, Gerome was making her visit much more pleasurable.
 
Gerome nodded after she introduced herself and her companion, a dark saber cat that he recognized to be from the Night Elf lands, though from which specific area he couldn't place. He had studied the Night Elven part of his heritage as well, of course. He wasn't directly related to the Night Elves, but the High Elves he was related to were something of a mutation of the Night Elves who were exiled from Kalimdor after the Sundering. The mutation - or evolution, some would prefer - seems to be caused from their use of Arcane magic, which explained their susceptibility to the mana addiction. Night Elves tended to stick with natural magic, and were incredibly wary of those who practiced the Arcane, especially those who were elves themselves. That was probably why Aspen looked so uneasy when he was tracing little arcane lines back in the shop. The thought of her concern made him smile a bit, but he didn't have much more time to think. Aspen's saber, Lansing, had made it very clear that it was bedtime. Laughing lightly at the situation, Gerome nodded when Aspen asked him about lodging. "No need to worry about inns or alleys." he proclaimed, judging that she would probably prefer to stay away from the public at large. "I have a residence with quite an exquisite guest suite, if I do say so myself." Gerome offered with a grin. "Of course, if you would prefer not to bunk in a stranger's home, there's a nice inn nearby as well. The city's got 'em all over the place." Stretching out his arms, Gerome leaned against the wall of the shop as he awaited Aspen's answer.
 
"Aye! Get your greasy mits off me ye durned oaf!" Pwent squirmed and kicked as several street thugs picked him clean of his belongings and hung him by his britches on an empty chain on a light post. He continues and onslaught of curses and insults while trying to free himself from the lamp, causing him to swing about comically. "Keep your mouth shut runt if you want to keep all your teeth" scoffed the leader of the group. An unusually large Tauren in his late teen years with a rather deadly looking maul across his back. The thugs went through Pwent's belongings tossing things haphazardly, not finding anything of apparent value. Getting frustrated, the Tauren knocks Pwent once, causing him to swing and spin in an even more ridiculous fashion. "Tell us where you keep the gold runt or I'll be adding another notch to my hammer." After several seconds of reorienting himself Pwent motions towards a fanny pack that was tossed far from the rest of his belongings. "You want me gold? Take it. Not much there anyways." "Heh, that'sa good runt. Keep that attitude, we might just do business again sometime." The Tauren says with an intentionally rough smack sending Pwent, once again, swinging and spinning.

Pwent closes his eyes and covers his nose as the thug picks up the purse. As the he tears it open, two barely audible clicks sound and the bag explodes into rainbow of smoke with a loud, deafening bang. Pwent frees himself from the chain and feels his way through the haze, dodging around angry, wheezing street thugs. He manages to find his knapsack and books it out of the cloud as fast as his legs will carry him. He looks over his shoulder for a moment to admire his work. The cloud released looks more like a piece of art than a smoke bomb, with many bright colors swirling and mixing. The smoke spread quickly, easily filling the street ,and rapidly rising above the buildings. Pwent high tails it around several buildings trying to put as much ground between him and the now, very angry street thugs. He blindly rounds yet another corner, slamming straight into a well dressed boy accompanied by tall elf and saber cat.

Pwent picks himself up quickly, fully prepared to ignore the boy and continue his flight. Upon getting back on his feet, his eyes land on the Night Elf. He hesitates for a moment before spitting into his hand and using it to push back his greasy, unkempt hair "Well, what 'ave we here? I 'ant remember a time I saw an elf with such a lovely... eh.... hue. I ought reckon you and that kitty o' yers mind taken care of a few pesky hoodlums would ye?"
 
Aspen was reluctant to accept Gerome's offer. He was no longer a stranger, but wasn't a close friend. It wasn't an offer that she would usually accept, staying at a townsfolk's home. But it was logically the best option for Aspen. With a sigh, Aspen nodded. "I would appreciate that very much." Staying with an acquaintance was much less risky than sleeping on the streets and was much less stressful than staying at an inn. Lansing didn't seem to care, the poor cat was at the point of exhaustion where he could fall over at any moment and fall asleep right on the spot.

With the sound of the dwarf, Aspen turned and dipped her head lightly. Another...? "I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you said..?"
 
As the night started to wane on, horses hooves could be heard throughout the forest. "Why did we have to go at night again? This is boring! And I can barely see a thing!" A white haired boy groaned, his golden eyes glancing around in mild boredom at the forest. The forest was boring, this process was boring, and everything about this was boring! "I mean, we could have gotten to the town during the day, couldn't have we? If we did, we might have even found-"

An older man interrupted the youth. "I know, your highness, the Wishing Tree and all that, but you must understand! It is imperative for a future king to visit all of his people before he is crowned king. It is tradition! Your father did it, your father's father did it, and now you are doing it." The man smiled, his wiry hand reaching over to fix a flyaway piece of hair on his prince's head. "Besides, if we went during the day then the whole point would have been ruined. You are suppose to go to an inn and rest before you greet your subjects."

The boy, though he technically was a man, pouted. "But I don't want to greet the masses, I want to go find-" He was cut off when his horse, a gorgeous white stallion whinnied, taking a step back. It sensed the vampire nearby and wanted to take its master on a different route. "Whoa, Silver Fire, calm down..."

"I believe we should go a different route then." The old man smiled, his moustache and beard hiding the upturn slightly. "Besides, she will come back. Your uncle will make sure that she is not harmed. Besides, she has only been gone two months. Your uncle asked for three and we are giving him three months." The tan man turned his black stallion onto a less direct path to the village, but a path nonetheless. "If she isn't home in three months then we'll send a search party out, alright?"

The prince, still very not convinced, sighed and nodded. "I guess you're right. Still feels wrong. She's suppose to be my future advisor, you know." Prince Alexei Ivan Marcoh IV was not a happy boy as he was forced to attend to the rituals of a stupid ceremony he didn't want. He was just glad that his favorite nanny as a kid, a Mr. Lukas Naveen, was going with him instead of the other counsel men. Most of them would probably grovel at his feet, but Lukas knew how to keep him in line. Plus, he always felt less nervous around the older man.

The duo trotted into town, large cloaks hiding their royal identities, though the crests on the horses didn't help them be less conspicuous. A few people glanced at the pair before deciding that their time was better spent elsewhere. The two quickly found a place to tie their horses up where they wouldn't be stolen, next to an inn where a certain naga and a murder happened to be. They walked in and got a room, trying to keep things on the down low before the festival tomorrow.

Back in the town the night wore on, shops started to close for the night as the underground market started to pop up. Drugs, illegal magicks, you name it, they had it. In a winery a young man, a blonde goblin if his shortness compared to even dwarves was to be shorter. He was carrying a large case full of documents and papers. He had heard of this 'red headed' man who seemed to have connections everywhere. He would have loved to partner up with this man, maybe spread his products if he was lucky. Unfortunately, he knew little on how to contact this person. His leads had all lead him to this specific winery. His beady black eyes stared around the place, his nose upturned. The red headed man must have a proxy or something to be here of all places.

Yuki saw the vampire flee. Good, one threat was out of the way. A wave of pain and dizziness hit her like a hurricane. She pulled out the root, growling. "Alright, fine! Fine, I'll accept your damn help, don't look at me like that!" She glared at the girl, knowing what she was thinking. Lowering her head, she put an arm around her face as she pulled the mask down enough to let her eat the root. Pulling it back up, she let her almost amber eyes glance over the strange group of three. "If... If you promise not to pull my mask away and help me or at least get me proper help, I'll..."

The silver haired girl paused. What could she do for them? What did everyone always want... Oh. She was going to have to do that. Well, she would die one way or another so might as well. "If you help me, I will show you to the Wishing Tree. However," She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "You will follow my every order, got it? You don't listen to what I say, I will leave you on the side of the road." She looked at each of them in seriousness before leaning back against a nearby tree.

"Now... Just let me... sit here for a minute... and I'll go with you..." She blinked as she put away the small knife away clumsily. Her hand felt numb as consciousness slipped through her fingers. The informant was out, unconscious and completely vulnerable. It was definitely a very interesting night.
 
Getzanu layed out underneath the stars, near a birch tree just outside the entrance to Loria(?), reflecting on the days events. He wasn't sure that he really needed to jump between the crowd and the few people who drew their weapons, but it seemed that the other option was bloodshed. The Wishing Tree causes too much pain and suffering to those who seek it... I've seen too much bloodshed over even rumored locations of the magical tree. He shook his head to drive the thoughts of the past away. He heard a distant explosion from within the town, driving Getzanu to stand up. "What was that?" He said aloud, picking up and situating his sword at his side, making his way towards the sound.

As Getzanu got closer to the source of the sound, he noticed a beautiful display of colored smoke climbing into the sky. "That noise for a smoke bomb? Who has a..." His words trailed off as he noticed a dwarf turn down the road in front of him. Perfect... an explosion happy dwarf... He walked around the corner and heard the dwarf ask a night elf if she and her obviously tired night saber if they would help him with a few hoodlums. "Hoodlums? Don't you think that was a bit much?" He said, walking up to the three people in front of the fletcher's shop, pointing behind him towards the smoke that has begun to climb higher than the buildings.
 
Gerome smiles at Aspen's answer, and pushes himself off of the wall with a bit of a flourish. "Excellent! I shall lead the way, then." he proclaimed. However, before he could even take a step down the road, the sounds of multiple explosions boomed down the street. Gerome looked in the direction of the noise and saw pillars of billowing, multicolored smoke. "Ooh, that's quite a show!" He grinned a bit as his gaze remained fixed on the swirling clouds of smoke. "I didn't know they were having a fireworks display tonight. Though, I suppose it would make sense since the Prince is supposed to be coming into town." On second thought, they didn't look so much like fireworks as they did smoke flares and other such utility explosives. Before he could open his mouth to comment again, however, he felt the force of a cannonball knock him nearly off his feet. Staggering backwards, Gerome tripped and slammed into the pavement, earning himself a few scrapes for his trouble. "Ach..." he groaned, picking himself up and dusting off his sleeves and pants. As he turned to the source of his newfound acquaintance with the street, Gerome caught a glimpse of the rough-looking dwarf slicking his hair back. Just the thought of the dwarf attempting to put the moves on an elf amused him to no end and he cracked up, very nearly tripping over himself again as he staggered over to the wall, trying desperately to fight down his laughter. As he finally sobered up, Gerome shook his head a little to make sure it was all gone, and moved to apologize. "Oh goodness, I am so sorry, Sir Dwarf. I just couldn't help it." Expertly swallowing another fit of giggles, he stepped forward and folded his hands in front of him. "Hoodlums, you say? I'm sure the militia will take care of them, though that might be a while..." he pondered, scratching his head a bit.

Before he could offer his own services as a mage to the dwarf, another person showed up and chastised the dwarf for his technicolor pyrotechnics. "Well, it seemed like mostly harmless ordnance. Good for making a flashy escape and leaving his victims confused and disoriented for a while, but in the way of injuries I think the most those bombs would inflict is a few burns, and minor ones at that." Gerome explained without skipping a beat, like some sort of professor or tutor. When one studies to be a mage, they have to learn a lot about the world and how it works. Magic may be powerful, but like all things it follows certain rules of the universe. It just so happens that fire magic follows a similar philosophy to explosives and powder-based weaponry. An initial spark lights the force behind the payload. For a bomb or cannon, the force is black powder. For a spell, the force is the latent arcane energy of the world. Even so, mages aren't experts in all fields by any means. They just understand the forces and laws that govern most things. "I tend to use similar forces in my own performances, though I doubt those smoke bombs were part of an act." Gerome noted, returning to the matter at hand. "Which brings me back to the hoodlums. I can help you round them up, but I need to show this elf and her saber to their accommodations for the night. They've had a bit of a day, you see, and are rather exhausted." He felt no remorse in telling such a small lie, but it was pretty blatantly obvious that the pair were tired. Besides, if Gerome was to assist this dwarf, he'd need to not be distracted by amusing thoughts of dwarves courting elves.
 
The girl at the counter watched, chin nestled in an open palm still, as the blond goblin youth sized up the modestly built premise. Against the honest woodwork and the plethora of notices and posters plastered on the wall across the room, sat the old man. A young, more well-dressed man bundled himself on a chair opposite to the geezer, trading small talk with the old man as he followed the goblin's actions carefully, though inconspicuously, with his one remaining eye. The countenance of his clean-shaven face would do much to counteract what the sable-colored patch was doing to his bust, though. Definitely something to help in not putting off the occasional prospectives like this goblin, as late in the evening to arrive as he is.

"Hmm." the old man suddenly chimed, sending the one gaze his way. A worn, bony hand closed the fresh-white pages of his hungry book, and reunited with the other half, worked away at folding one of the blank sheets of paper laid ready on top of the table. "The young prince has arrived." he spoke, in a voice so silent yet sounding so very crystal clear; only to those that closely knew the sound of his voice, however. With a mild interest the girl puffed a cheek and looked her great great uncle's way. The man returned a short nod, and released the paper crane from the cusp of his hands - to free itself from the building through a small window and fly into the darkening night in search of its rightful receiver. On the other side of the table, the younger man let out a low sigh, and helped himself to the small glass of scarlet beverage set on the table before him.

"Really, now... I very much envy you, old man." mumbled he, leaning forward and resting the glass back on the surface of the table, all the while wearing a wry smile on his face. "You're far past the age where you'd give a damn at the good times the world throws in your face, so the work we get never did take anything out of your life."

"Oh, that's heartless." the old man drew a reply. "I'm not so old that my muscles have stopped letting me smile."

"That's a lie." said the man. "But in a few years I'll have myself beaten by a haggard the likes of you." he went on after a short pause.

"I suppose... A cousin of Mira should be passing through town next week. She's a very sweet and spirited girl, I'll have you know." said the old man, busying himself on putting out the next two paper cranes.

"That's part of the problem." replied the man as he rested back in his chair, his narrowed gaze looking over to the girl at the counter whose name was mentioned. "The only women I'm ever able to meet are from your family. And I think the good men of the town know what the problem is when it comes to the girls from your family." he crossed his arms as he spoke, and his eye followed the girl's figure, whom was getting up.

"Julius, please. I certainly wasn't able to help the fact that my wife was to be a nymph." the old man spoke, motioning for the eye-patched man to hold out his hands, to which the young man did.

"Well, you were always dry as a tree." replied the young man, which drew an amused smile from his aged friend. The old man proceeded to place a paper crane in his hands, and the crafted piece came to life after a few seconds passed. The two small objects flapped their way out and about into the darkened fray, but the young man paid no eye to this miracle. He was occupied by the sight of the girl walking along the counter towards the goblin youth carrying a case in his hand.

---​

"Excuse me, sir...? What might I help you with?" asked the girl to the goblin once she's been informed that he was clean, minding how late it was. Now, from his attire, he could either be a traveling salesman, a merchant hoping to market some wine, or a newly-arrived underground marketeer, lost while on his way to business. The last one was very unlikely, but she had her hopes. After all, it'd mean she'd have someone to go with to check out their wares after her shift ended. It has been some time since she last brought home some of those 'special shampoo', and her stock was running low. With the prince having come to town, it wasn't out of her place to fantasize - her hair, shining in all seven colors under the light of the moon, could very well be what charms him into pulling her into his tender, caring arms.
 
Cassie rose quickly, startled by the girl. But she didn't have to worry about her for very long. The girl looked a little sick, covering her mouth as she looked over every one of the people in the vicinity, as well as the fox. Suddenly, she ran off towards town, bumping into trees and such before she disappeared into the thick underbrush of the woods.

Callie again faced the girl, who had relented enough to eat the root the fox had gathered for her. She smiled gratefully, but inside she was annoyed. Why did this girl take so long to accept help anyway? I mean, I get the whole trust issues thing, but not everyone is a bad guy! Callie thought to herself, leaning down to help the girl sit up farther against a tree. "Ok, there are a few plants around here that can help you. That root was one of them. It will dull the pain enough so that it isn't terrible, but you still have to be careful. Now, we have to get this thing clean," She gestured to the injury on her side, which had stopped bleeding but was covered in dirt and other grime. "So first, do you have any water on you we can use to clean this thing up? We need to get all this dirt off the injury before it gets infected. And, um... miss fox? Obviously you know English, since you spoke a little bit earlier, so can you please go over there and get some of the light green moss off of that rock please? It helps get rid of bacteria. But we need to get this cleaned up first." Not hearing any response from the girl, she looked curiously at her. But when she looked up, she noticed the girl was unconscious, not able of answering. Callie sighed in frustration. As if trying to help her wasn't hard enough, now there was nothing she could do until she awoke. Callie propped herself up, her knees dirty from the moist soil. "There's nothing we can do now, unless she wakes up. But we can't just leave her here. Farren," she looked at her brother. "Can you pick her up and bring her to the barn? It's safer than the woods." After seeing Farren nod his head, she looked at the fox, who had brought the lichens she needed. "You can come too, if you'd like someplace to stay for the night." And the Callie walked off, Farren in tow with the girl limp in his arms as they made their way to the barn.
 
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No, no, no! Why?! Why? No. No. Blood stained fingers tainted with the lost life of another, dry gobs of flesh and guts stuck to her hands from the sticky minimal moisture the body had left. Once a woman, probably a prostitute in her short dress in heels, was nothing more than ripped apart pile of bloodless brown meat. Blood stained her white razor teeth like wine, the blood was just as sweet and intoxicating to her. What felt like tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but vampires could not cry, so only hitched heavy breaths and soft gasps of air were hint to her anger.

Flinging her left hand she flicked off the sticky mess. The girl had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kassie had been starving for so long. It showed as well, she hadn't been able to control primal urges and had simply tore the girls throat out with her teeth. Instead of a clean bite and suck, she dug her claws in and shredded the body to get to the blood quicker even with a full mouth. It felt so good to eat again. Even with so much blood, she could have gone for another. And another, and another, and another! You monster! Slamming her fist into a tree a loud crack echoed through the forest. She hadn't bother to even leave the pathway, she hadn't thought of it all. She hadn't thought at all. Pressing her forehead to the big and now damaged oak she took her breaths lightly. Her mouth bloodstained, but that was the brunt of the mess. She hadn't let a drip go anywhere, her clothes were clean. She wouldn't waste the blood like that. She had been too hungry.

Black hair curtained her face as she stared down the tree angrily, as if it were going to make a difference. As if she could take back her inhuman compulsions. Sick. Sick and twisted. Speaking of sick. She leaned over and opened her mouth to gag, but nothing came to. Could vampires vomit? In her young fifty years she hadn't once. Spit it out. Pressing a long finger to the back of the tongue she tried to cause herself to rid of the thick sticky liquid. But nothing came and she fell to her knees. Wiping her fingers against the dewy grass.

Stars twinkled above, happily, mocking her. Once she had been told for every star was an ancestor's pair of twinkling eyes watching over her. They'd have been watching in horror. Her mother, and baby brother. Whom she'd ripped apart herself after her transformation, unable to suppress the weird primal urges she'd never had before when she first changed. She hadn't any self control. She still didn't. The girl she just killed could be a mother... She dug her nails into the side of her head at the memories of the beginning and winced, shaking them away.

Standing, Kas turned to do what she did best. Flee.

Then it dawned on her, what if she stayed here by her murder? Would the townspeople come with torches alight? Tie her to a stake and wait for daylight? What would happen if she went right to town and turned herself in? Nothing. Because she'd slaughter them on the spot if they threatened her. She had already done this before, planning her suicide and chickening out last second. More people weren't going to die for her stupidity. Kassie took a look at the body once more and swallowed the venom that pooled on her tongue. She shouldn't leave the shredded body here like this, what if a child came by?
 
"...Tch." the young man seemed to wince, which alerted his teacher. His attention already spread thin throughout the winery, it's surroundings and the halls below because of the night's occasion, Julius noticed too late, a creature of the night that prowled the woods at Loria's edge. By the time one of his own charms had spotted the thing, it had already finished a meal. "It's another bloodsucker." the young man told the geezer across the table, strong fingers gently picking up the thin frame of the wine glass to down the rest of its contents. "And it's making a mess. God damn it." the young man stood up once he was finished, grabbing the brown coat which he'd put to rest over his chair.

"How much have you had to drink today?" asked the old man. Filled with a mix of concern and lament, his outwardly appearance did not change one bit to show this. "If you couldn't even spot the wave, how do you expect to kill the whale that made it?" he scolded the young man, though knowing full well that it's only been a full year since he took over watching the woods of Loria - the town itself already had enough to be seen, that it would've been overwhelming had it been anyone else.

"The militia can handle the rest, whenever they come along. I was built to do this. Not a single one of their kind has overcome this fact yet." spoke the young man, throwing a thanks over in the girl's direction, whom he wouldn't have worry. So he put on a smile, and looked on as she smiled back, before going back to facing the goblin youth. The game was still going on - even if it was otherwise, he doubted that the old man would have any trouble. For now, he had to head out - not just for his "territorial responsibility", but to maintain his own well-being. He might not be as skilled at using paper charms as the old man was, but the same couldn't be said for hunting down creatures like this vampire, and killing them in their own game.

True to his words, this can only be the purpose in life for Julius Van Helsing.
 
Pwent blinked once at the man scolding him at his use of pyrotechnics, then twice at the young boy defending his use of pyrotechnics. Who was this boy, why did he know so much, and why was he defending a sweaty dwarf that just bowled him over like a toy? Pwent had planned to use the odd group as a diversion to cover his gettaway from the thugs who were no doubt very angry and no doubt very far behind the dwarf. And why was the boy so giggly!? It must be a set up. These two can't be trusted. While the boy was talking to the new stranger, he felt a familiar twitch in his nose, the kind you feel right before a powerful sneeze. Pwent knew what this meant as he often felt it right before the thugs jumped him in the street. He believed his nose to prophetic and always acted on these warnings. Pwent turned at just the boy finished his offer and saw the thugs rounding the corner, being lead by the large Tauren, maul in hand. The colorful smoke had stained their clothes just as it did Pwents into faint, tie dye patterns. The Tauren, being closest to the epicenter of the blast, got the worst of it. His once milky white leather jerken (which wasn't cheap no doubt) was marred with colorful swirls and patterns. Pwent's eyes met with the Taurens and for a second it was silent, the entire band seemed frozen. The moment was shattered as the Tauren let loose a fierce battle cry lifting his maul overhead. The entire band wailed and charged the dwarf, no mercy showing in their eyes. Pwent let loose a high pitched squeal and took off once more as fast as his little legs would carry him, bowling over the kid once more as he passed.
 
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