Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Mon Apr 11, 2016 1:40 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

She nodded confidently when Marth questioned her ability to keep their true path out of sight.  “It’s not a problem.  When we stop for provisions, I can get some different clothing, that will help, too,” she said, gesturing at the black leather that currently covered her.  “Don’t worry too much, Marth,” she added as a reassurance.  “Our mission’s secrecy is a top priority.”  She let her gaze linger on Marth for a moment, her gaze meant to offer him more further promise than her words were able to.  

She turned back to Martin and listened carefully to what the young man had to say.  He did not give off the impression that he was plotting against the two of them, but she eyed him with a slight suspicion nevertheless.  She had made a promise to Marth that she would assist him in this mission, and she planned to do everything in her power to make sure she was able to keep that promise.  

She turned back to Marth and nodded.  “The more people who surround us, the easier it would be to travel without suspicion, especially if we mildly disguise ourselves as we earlier discussed,” she responded.  There was an off tone to her voice - whether it was suspicion or annoyance was unclear.  Her eyes continued to occasionally dart towards Martin, but not in an attempt to be disrespectful.

She let out a low key chuckle when Martin told Marth to drop the formalities, as the thought had crossed her mind as well.  She had chosen to say nothing about it, however, because although she did not entirely trust the man, she knew better than to speak disrespectfully to those of higher status than she, especially considering the fact that they were about to head into his lands.  She did not want to first handedly experience the wrath of an angered noble - that was not to say that Martin looked easily angered.  Quite to the contrary, she was surprised at the coolheadedness he displayed towards Marth, considering the history between the two.  She offered Martin a smile, as genuine as she was able to, when he addressed her.  “You’re right, I s’pose,” she said, quietly.  She shuffled her feet and looked towards the sky.

“Should we get moving, then?” she asked.  “We’ve got a bit of daylight left… best not to waste it.”

Author: Marth, Posted: Fri Apr 8, 2016 1:09 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

With Dalanesca's decisive answer, Marth was able to calm down. His mind was already racing, planning for contingencies and calculating the consequences of the delay as well as the added provisions and manpower. He was also trying to figure out the stealth aspect, but he was a soldier with limited knowledge about it. With so many X-factors, he turned to Dalanesca for answers. "Very well. But I was hoping this could be done with some level of secrecy - seeing as the shards pose such a threat, I wouldn't want the information to fall into the wrong hands. Can I trust your talents to keep the mission covert, Dalanesca?"

He didn't say it, but Marth, too, felt some suspicion towards Martin. While it was true he felt he had no right to deny Martin his chance at hunting down Reaver, it didn't chasnge the fact that Martin's family died at Marth's hands. The nobleman was young, prone to emotion, and the member of what was, after all, a religious sect with a hatred for all things dark and a zealous passion for retribution against murder. The fact that marth was in the same organization was irrelevant - zealots wern't known for their inner stability and mutual tolerance.

---

Martin, on his end, was much less scheming than his two companions believed. While he wasn't comfortable around the figure that had skewered his uncle on a clawed arm and burnt his father alive, he knew that the man now standing before him was a different man altogether. Besides, he remembered his father's last words to him. Hate the demon, son, but pity the man hosting him. For the horrors committed with his flesh is surely a curse more painful than even the fires of the underworld. And Martin truly believed that. In his naïveté, Martin was also in awe of how the middle-aged soldier could draw on his old experience as a tactician and strategist while bearing all that pain - oblivious of course to the fact that soldiering was Marth's foremost coping mechanism.

"Two demon-hunters - one of which is clearly a Wyllmochvarian arcanist - and an assassin on the road is going to look peculiar no matter how we spin it," Martin said, showing that depite his naïve nature he wasn't entirely bereft of insight. "However, if we move with a larger force, we'll look like one lord and some associates on the road, off perhaps to deal with brigands or similar, rather than a trio on a mission. What covert actions need be taken can be handled by miss… Dalanesca, right?"

---

Marth looked at Martin with a perked eyebrow, but chuckled and nodded. "You have a point, my lord. Yes, a larger group might serve to camouflage Dalanesca and myself." He looked at Dalanesca. "Wouldn't you agree? Yes, I am beginning to think better of this new turn of events. With some of the du Reolar's household's retainers, we'll also be able to more effectively keep our quarry where we want them. Onwards, then, to your county." Marth looked at Martin, allowing the young man to show the way.

---

"Yes, very well. And drop the 'my lord', please. We at least are brothers in arms, and as miss Dalanesca here would surely tell you, throwing titles around is a poor way to remain incognito." Martin gave Dalanesca sn apologetic smile. "Isn't that so, miss?"

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Thu Apr 7, 2016 10:18 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Dalanesca’s hands dropped to her side and she stepped quickly back from Marth.  A hint of a blush rose to her cheeks when she realized that he had, in fact, not been in danger of losing himself.  She felt foolish for a moment - but quickly dropped the feeling of foolishness when she realized that she had no way of knowing what would trigger him into… whatever it was.  She was being overcautious, but from the way he had explained the situation, she was unsure if that was a bad thing or not.

She nodded at his insistence that he was fine, though kept herself on alert.  As Marth continued his explanation that he would not deny this Martin his vengeance, she stood steadfast with her hands on her hips then.  She frowned a bit, but expressed her understanding.  “Alright, then,” she said.  “Forgive my overreaction, but, well, you know,” she said, assuming that he would understand why she had made the decision to act in that manner.

She cast her gaze to Martin as he wiped his face and continued speaking with Marth, narrowing her eyes slightly.  He seemed nothing but honest and straightforward, but she was not quick to let her guard down.  As Martin spoke, Dalanesca let her eyes continue to wander to Marth.  It appeared that he at least somewhat knew this man, while she did not, but she had already given Marth the benefit for the doubt in such a short time of knowing him that it made no sense for her to not follow his opinion.

She was not prepared, however, for Marth to ask her to make the decision on what their next move would be.  His question was met with silence at first, as she thought over the options.  After a moment, she finally answered.

“Let’s go with him,” she said, looking Marth in the eye.  “Extra information can only better our cause, and I can keep us out of public sight for the most part,” she added, thankful that she still possessed the skills of her past trade.  “So… that’s my decision,” she said, and glanced at Martin for a moment before looking back at Marth.  “Provisions won’t hurt, either,” she added as an afterthought.  She didn’t say it, but in her mind she made a solid promise to keep an eye on this Martin.  She had difficulty trusting people, but this seemed to be someone Marth felt he owed something to, and she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Author: Marth, Posted: Thu Apr 7, 2016 9:29 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth shook Dalanesca off, shaking his head frantically. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine." He didn't look the part. Somehow, the brief shock of seeing this familiar face had left him looking a ragged mess again, but Marth didn't look like he was about to go ballistic. He took a few deep breaths and continued. "I've no right to deny this man his vengeance, any more than I can deny myself the right to redemption. If he wants to come, he comes." His voice was shaking, but there was a steely quality to his eyes - whatever else was going on in Marth's head, this was something he was sure of.

Martin looked up at Marth, closing his eyes in relief - and wiping away the tears. "Thank you, captain Coralax. I swear, I blame no mortal man for the death of my father and uncle. That was not your doing. All I want is to see the rest of the shards destroyed." The young man seemed honest. Mostly because he was a pious young paladin, but also because he came across as far too stupid to lie. He gathered up his things - relatively modest for someone with a title of nobility. "I am travelling light, but once we get closer to the border, I should be able to have one of the local lords help us out. Alternately… We could go to my county. On the way, we can exchange information, and once we're there, I can provision you as well as myself, and call on some of my household retainers."

Marth took a long time to respond. He was still gathering his wits from the shock, but he appeared to be calmer. His stress level passed a threshold, and the years as a soldier snapped back into place. He looked at Dalanesca, frowning. "The county of Reolar is a fair bit out of our way, and secrecy might still be of importance. But with more people and better provisions, we'll have more to fall back n should things go awry. What do you say, Dalanesca? Go with Martin, or keep on our present course?"

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Mon Mar 21, 2016 1:54 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Listening carefully while Marth addressed her concerns, placing her hands on her hips and furrowing her brow as it seemed at first that he was going to disagree with her, but the furrowed brow turned to a smile once more as she could tell that he too was masking a smile.  “It’ll be worth it.”  Her voice held an air of forced assurance, and she was unsure if the assurance was meant for Marth, or for herself.  “I’m glad we can be on the same page about it, then,” she said, and her hands dropped from her hips, though she switly ducked to one side as a voice broke the silence between the two of them and Marth went on the defensive, shooting a fireball in the direction of the disturbance.  

Dalanesca tumbled to a crouched position, blades slipping into her hands from within her sleeves, ready for an attack.  She could see a man, who looked to be a bit younger than see, struggling to keep his footing.  She dropped her stance the moment she saw Marth relax, and went back to standing normally.  She withdrew one of the blades, in her dominant hand, while her non-dominant hand still held the other.  Though Marth had relaxed and seemed to know who this man was, she did not, and she felt the need to keep her wits about her.   She could see the emblem in the newcomer’s clothing, and she recognized it as familiar from Marth’s own robes - she had noticed it when she had admired how well he had cleaned up. 

Worry spread throughout Dalanesca as she could see emotion beginning to course through Marth as the man introduced himself.  It was clear that the situation was not one Marth should be in, but she was unsure how to handle it at first.  When Marth gave her a brief explanation, she nodded her understanding, and reached a hand up to his shoulder in a comforting sort of way.  She thought perhaps the physical contact would help keep him grounded, but as the man - Martin, as he had introduced himself, kept talking, she could see Marth becoming more and more upset.

Marth looked at her in desparation, and she slightly tightened the grip she had on his shoulder.  “Stop,” she said to Martin, her voice cold and harsh.  “You need to get away from us - far away from us,” she said, her tone threatening.  She could see now, with the tears that had begun streaming down Marth’s face, that the situation was on its way to disaster, and she needed to get that man far from Marth before things deteriorated even further.  “We will cross paths again, and at that time we will discuss things, but for now - take leave!  For your safety as well as our own!”  

Without waiting to see the man’s response to her plea, Dalanesca turned to face Marth completely, swiftly sheathing the dagger she held in her non-dominant hand.  Her hand still resting on his shoulder, she brought the other one up to his cheek, forcing his gaze to her own.  “Look at me, Marth.  Breathe.”  She pulled her hand from his shoulder and brought it to his face, wiping the tears that had fallen from his eyes and resting that hand on his opposite cheek.  She held his face firmly towards her own, her eyes never leaving his.  “You’re not going to do this - not now, not here,” she said, her voice demanding but somehow without anger.  “Stay with me here, and don’t lose it,” she said, her voice softening slightly, her hands never leaving his face, praying silently that her words and focus would help him stay Marth rather than the darker thing that hid within him.

Author: Marth, Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2016 5:02 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth looked at Dalanesca as she blurted out her concern with a perked eyebrow. When she was finished his expression had turned grim. "Provided everything goes as planned, we'll still be facing dark wizards, demons, and probably a whole lot more. More likely than not, innocent people will be caught in the crossfire, and before our work is done, people will have died. Some good, some bad… And at the end of the day, we'll have to look back on what we've done, and decide whether or not it was worth it, to take down a shard of Reaver." He looked at Dalanesca, and there was the slightest hint of a sly smile on his face. "If we don't stay positive, we won't come out of this with our sanity intact. So yes, we can certainly make this mission as light-hearted as possible."

"Good luck with that, chap," came a voice from nearby. Marth was startled, immediately jumping into combat position, his eyes wide in momentary terror. He launched a fireball in the general direction of the voice. "Whoa!" Dodging the fireball, a young man in plate armour fell off the boulder he was resting on, barely managing a semi-graceful landing with a grunt. Marth looked at the man wide-eyed for a bit. He was breathing heavily, every fiber of his being prepared to fight. He was too startled to see the man's heraldry - the same icon he had sewn onto his mattlemage's robes, the sigil of the Fellhunter Fraternity. He was almost about to attack when the young knight held up his hands in a 'stop' fashion. "Easy, captain Coralax, easy, I'm a friend. I'm sorry if I startled you." Marth just managed to stop himself, and the terror drained from his face, replaced by annoyance and more than a little confusion. "You… Oh. What?" He dropped his combat pose, allowing the man to get on his feet. "There's something familiar about you, young man - not counting your sigil. Have I met you before?"

The man looked at Marth and Dalanesca in turn, his facial expression concerned. "I'm tracking down the same thing you are, captain Coralax. I, too, am hunting Reaver. My name is… Martin du Reolar." Marth just looked dumbfounded at the knight for a second, but winced as the young man gave his name. "Martin… You're Maurice's heir." Marth looked away, his expression one of pain and regret. He turned to Dalanesca, whispering. "His father died by my hands when the Fellhunter Fraternity caught up to me. His uncle, too." Marth looked as though he was about to despair. The young man waited for a brief second before speaking. "As you can understand, I have a personal reason to see the rest of the shards destroyed. Captain Coralax… Please. Let me come along. Reaver is a menace that must be destroyed." Marth looked despairing, completely unable to find words. He looked at Dalanesca with desperation, hoping against hope that she'd somehow know what to say. "The demon tortured you and killed hundreds, my father and uncle included. Please…" Both men were beginning to cry. The situation was deteriorating rapidly.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 8:01 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Dalanesca could see the amusement in Marth’s eyes as she went a bit overboard with her weaponry presentation.  To some, it may have seemed over the top, but she could go through and name off a situation when each and every one of the weapons she carried had come to be necessary.  Not to mention, having to learn to still practice stealth arts while carrying such weight in weapons had been a very useful type of exercise.

She watched with extreme interest as Marth went on to show her the kinds of magic she was capable of, and she found herself impressed - but also jealous.  She knew that in the past she had been capable of magic, but she could not quite figure out how to do it anymore.  It seemed as though some trace of herself had been left behind in wherever it was that she had come from, and that trace was the part of her that contained the ability to cast any magic.

She crinkled her nose with mild disgust at the sound that Marth suddenly made, preparing to jump out of the way in case he had somehow cracked and was about to spit at her - but instead, she could see small flames beginning to spill out of Marth’s lips - immediately followed by a glob of spit being expectorated into the water near them - at which point the water erupted into flames.  She raised her eyebrows in surprise, her hands coming to her hips.  “Impressive,” she said, offering him a sly grin.  He clearly looked proud of himself, but at the mention of headaches she nodded.  “Best not to have that happen, I’d think,” she said.

She found the spear impressive, as well as his apparent knowledge of melee combat styles.  “I think we’ll make the perfect pair for this mission,” she said, confident in her statement.  With his knowledge of magic and her knowledge of stealth coupled with their combined knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, the two would be able to get themselves out of most situations, probably unharmed.  

She could see the change in his demeanor when he smiled - it almost seemed like he was lost in his memories for a time.  At this point, she realized - this was going to be a mission wrought with dark times and unhappiness.  It would probably do her well to remember something fond as well - but Dalanesca did not possess many fond memories from this land, and any memories of such light from her previous state of being were blurred and hard to remember.  “Marth?”  she said suddenly, an idea popping into her mind.  “Can we make a deal that no matter what happens, we will attempt to make this mission as… light-hearted as possible?”  She realized as she was speaking exactly how ridiculous that sounded.  “I know… sounds completely idiotic.  But I figure, if we at least try… it might not be so bad, right?” she asked.  

Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 1:59 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth looked, with some surprise, at the sheer amount of hidden weaponry Dalanesca was able to carry with ease. He had imagined a hidden blade or two, but the gear she was wielding had her prepared for more or less any kind of pitched battle. After the tenth weapon, marth began to chuckle a little, for it seemed so very over-the-top.

Nevertheless, Marth wasn't shy himself when Dalanesca asked him to take his turn. Not breaking stride, Marth allows a ball of fire to form in his hand, burning lazily - as if the fire was somehow trapped in slow-moving time. Marth looked at Dalanesca with a smirk. "Fireball. Nothing special about it. I bet you've seen this kind of spell before," he said, flinging the fireball into the air. Then, after ten metres, it suddenly began to drop, following a curved trajectory like a grenade. Marth chuckled. "Allowing a ball of sheer magic to be affected by gravity is a bit trickier, though. But any skilled bage can do it. The real fun begins when I start cross-casting - using overlapping magical 'blueprints' to make a new effect. Some call it combo-casting." Still not breaking stride, Marth was suddenly surrounded by what must've been at least a hundred fireballs the size of golfballs. Marth then pointed into the air, and they began launching at a rate of about a dozen balls per second, a flurry of sustained fire like a blazing hailstorm. Marth's grin widened. "Mixing the concept of spirit blades and fire, I can create a blinding, suppressing barrage of small fireballs which can halt half a dozen threats at once if used correctly. This buys me time to use my skills in close-quarters combat, or - if the surroundings permit…" Marth made a sound like clearing his throat, before it changed into the sound one makes when creating a truly dense and nasty glob of spit. small flames trickled from marth's mouth, and he spat in the direction of a nearby creek.

The water erupted on contact with the high-velocity spit glob, spraying water thirty feet into the air and spreading hundred of highly flammable globs of sticky material, cathing on to trees, ground, and probably either Dalanesca or Marth as well. With a wave of his hand, however, the fires immediately died, before any lasting harm could be done. Where the creek once flowed swift and dangerous, there was now a crater slowly filling up with waist-high water.

Marth kept on grinning like a fool. "There are other spells in my arsenal as well, but I should not strain my magic too far. It gives me headaches, and you can guess where that leads." He showed Dalanesca his spear, however. It was slightly longer than he, with a long, wide blade at the tip, and engravings on the shaft. "This functions as both spear and mage's staff. See those glyphs? Carved into the shaft by an old priest after I was… exorcised. It taps into my magic reserves to activate a blessing, which coats the blade in a hell-purging sheath of light. Excellent when facing demons, probably effective against undead as well. I've yet to try that."

Then, Marth clenched his fist demonstratively. "Finally, there are these. My hands. Republican battlemagi of Wyllmochvar often train themselves in at least two or three mêleé disciplines, as it heightenes focus and allows us to know our own limits better. In turn, that makes us more efficient casters. I chose to train in soujutsu, an Ataiyo form of spearfighting, as well as händerkrieg, an aggressive form of fistfighting practised in Egjora. I have integrated both into my casting pattern." His smile was softer now, more down-to-earth and sincere. His days in training were fond memories, it would seem, reinforcing the idea that study and practise (and thus becoming a battle-mage) was something Marth was as good as born to do.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2016 12:16 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

When Marth took the canteen from her, she felt a bit of solace - he seemed to find her trustworthy enough to accept a beverage from her, and that was telling in and of itself.  “It’s not inconvenient at all,” she said, with a bit of a grin.  She could not help but let out a laugh as he mentioned peacetime duties, imagining that it would be quite dull.  “I guess a windmill would be amusing,” she said, flailing her arms about in imitation of a windmill’s blades.  

She found it refreshing that the two of them were able to crack jokes and find a bit of laughter this early in their journey.  She knew from past experiences that such humor was useful on long quests and missions, as at times they could become quite dark and the happenings could be a bit troublesome.  A laugh and a smile couldn’t always cure every ailment, mend every injury, or fix every situation; but they were better than nothing.  

“I’ll do what I can to help you keep that in check,” she said, when he mentioned his - she was unsure what to call it.  Condition?  Ailment?  Either way, she planned to help him in controlling it as best she could.  “I’ll be a mood lightener as much as you need me to,” she added.  “Though I can’t guarantee I won’t have my dark moments as well.  I don’t have the… problem, that you do,” she said, continuing on.  “But I’ve got plenty running ‘round in this mind of mine that I might not be the most chipper on some days,” she said, a bit of a blush coming to her pale cheeks as she admitted this fault.  “I try my best to contain it, but it leaks out at times,” she added, realizing how silly she must have sounded to Marth has he dealt with much worse on a daily basis.

She was glad when he changed the subject to discussing their different styles of fighting and combat.  This brought a smile to her face - it would give her a chance to show off all of the blades she had hidden throughout her wardrobe.  She never failed to surprise people - she always managed to produce a blade from a place they never would have though.

“Gladly,” she responded, the excitement for such discussion viable in her eyes.  “As you well know from what I’ve told you, I’ve mastered the arts of stealth and shadow,” she said, no doubt referring to her past as an assassin.  “I favor smaller blades, though I’ve got one large one I like to use,” she said, and she slowed to a stop.  Reaching behind her, she produced a long, slender blade that had been in the sheath down her spine, the silver metal glinting in the sunlight.  “This one comes in handy in prepared battle situations,” she said, brandishing it a bit before replacing it.  

“And then I’ve got these,” she said, flicking her hands downwards.  A small katar-style blade slide out across the specialized half-gloves that she wore, their handles falling into grasp.  “I tend to use these for more dire situations, as they are quick to draw,” she said, carefully sliding each one back up her sleeve.  

A few minutes passed as she produced more and more weaponry to show Marth - two blade in each boot, one on a hilt at each side, and one tucked in a hilt shoved into the cleavage created by the corset she wore over her tunic.  She was about to show him the small dagger she kept tucked away in the waistband of her leather leggings, but thought the better of it.  It might be beneficial for her to still have one weapon secreted away from him in case of emergency. 

Awaiting his reaction, she smiled sheepishly.  “Well?  What about you?” she asked with a lopsided grin.

Author: Marth, Posted: Sat Mar 12, 2016 1:57 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth looked at Dalanesca questioningly, but with a small smile, accepting the waterskin and having a modest swig. "Well, I'm glad that, if nothing else, this isn't too inconvenient. And I know all too well how boredom can dull one's mind. Have you ever seen a Wyllmochvarian peacetime duty rotation? I'd imagine being a windmill is more entertaining." He gave a chuckle. After a while, though, his smile settled down, more content than happy.

"I'm glad I made your acquaintance as well, miss Dalanesca. It'll be good to travel with company again." His smile faded altogether. "Keeps the nastier parts of my existence away." The smile returned. "And as you can imagine, it can do wonders for a man's mood. Now, to pass the time, I was thinking we could talk about of weapons and fighting styles. That way, we also learn something about each other which will allow us to respond better to… unforseen events. What do you say?"

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Wed Mar 9, 2016 1:27 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

She nodded at Marth as he repeated what had been listed in the letter.  He went into a bit more detail about how long the trip was likely to take them, and she thought it sounded like a reasonable amount of time.  It seemed that Marth wanted to travel at a brisk pace and she was fine with that - the faster they arrived at their destination, the sooner their mission could continue onwards. His mention of the riverboat fascinated her - it had been ages since she could remember being on a nautical vessel, and she found herself glad that she would be getting the experience again.  She hid her excitement from Marth, choosing only to nod once more to acknowledge the fact that she understood what he was saying.

“You make a good point,” she said, when her companion indicated that there was no reason for them to solidify their plans.  She watched with interest as he fished something out of his bag, offering it to her - it seemed to be food, but she was unsure - until he explained to her what it was.  “Never had one,” she said, taking it from him.  “But thank you,” she added, and took a bite of it.  It had a sweet flavor and interesting texture, but she could see what he meant about it making one thirsty.

She took a few more bites of the cake, finishing it swiftly.  Reaching down, she unlatched her canteen from her side and pulled it up, uncorking it and taking a swig of the water that it contained.  After a moment, she offered it to Marth, in case he wished for a drink himself.

“I’m glad to have made your acquaintance, Marth,” she said, as the two continued on their walk.  “My life has hit a pretty standstill point, and it’s nice to have direction once more, and a purpose and cause to fight for,” she added.  The tone of her voice proved true just how grateful she was for the opportunity, and her face showed it as well.  “I hope that I am truly an asset to you, and I am hopeful that I will be able to help you control your… episodes, or whatever you refer to them as,” she added.  The man seemed like he was someone worth having as an ally, even with the underlying trauma that the entire ordeal he had suffered had caused him.

Author: Marth, Posted: Sat Mar 5, 2016 9:25 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth caught up to Dalanesca, setting a marching pace. He heard out Dalanesca's questions, his spear dangling lazily from its sheath on his back as he walked. "Well. You saw the letter, we're going to seek out this 'Devil Eyes Borza', who can be found around the Highborn Ogre. I have a rough idea where it is - it's not listed on any major map, but I got a few pointers from a fellow traveler. If the weather agrees, we'll be on the road for three days before we can take a riverboat downstream. That's two days on a boat, then another day to reach our destination when we make land again."

Marth thought about the issue a bit. "That leaves us plenty of time to talk and plan further. As of now, however, there's no point in setting anything in stone until we know whether this Borza character really has the information we seek." Marth grabbed something cookie-like from his bag and took one. He also offered one to Dalanesca. "Honey cake. Energizing, but it leaves you thirsty."

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Fri Mar 4, 2016 7:55 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

She had been looking down at the ground to avoid the brightness of the sun when she heard a familiar voice call out her name.  Looking up, she saw Marth walking towards her - only it didn’t seem to be the Marth that she had first met the previous night in the tavern.  His hair was no longer an unkempt mess atop his head.  His clothing no longer looked as though he had been in battle for a fortnight.  He looked the picture perfect example of a respectable man, and she nodded slightly to herself in approval.  His new appearance only further proved the point that the disheveled and emotionally unpredictable man she had met the night before was not who Marth really was.

She waved her hand at him in acknowledgment when she looked up, just as the bells had begun to chime once more.  When he was within distance, she offered him a quick smile, fighting the urge to wince her eyes at the sunlight.  She could tell he was assessing her and it was quite obvious that he knew she was feeling slightly under the weather.  At his joke of her finishing the wine, she nodded with guilt.  “I did,” she said, though there was no sense of pride in her voice.  “Couldn’t let it go to waste, after all,” she quipped, standing up straight and removing her back from the wall she had been leaning upon.

“I’m quite used to walking,” she said, in response to his comment.  “Ten miles is easy, we could probably do fifteen if we push,” she added, with a bit of a shrug.  Reaching behind her, she grabbed the hilt of the blade sheathed at her spine and jostled it about a bit, checking to see that it was secure.  She found nothing more annoying than the blade being loose and wiggling to and fro against her back.  “Shall we?” she said, and headed out through the gate ahead of Marth.

She wasn’t entirely sure what pace Marth set when he walk, so she only walked ahead of him for a short time before slowing to let him fall into stride next to her.  As she walked, she unlatched her canteen from her belt and pulled the cork out, bringing it to her lips and taking a drink of the cool water it held.  “I guess I’m not entirely sure where we’re to be heading,” she admitted, looking at the path ahead of them.  It was apparent that even the short amount of walking and the bit of water she had consumed had helped her condition to recover.  She lowered her hood, black hair spilling out around her shoulders.  The leather straps that she used to tie her hair back were packed away in her side pouch.  It was cool enough outside at the moment that tying her hair back was unnecessary.

“You did a proper job of filling me in on the details last night, but I think some are still missing.”  She glanced over at him, and a feeling of realization washed over her.  She had accepted a mission with a man she had just met, who was clearly unstable in some form, and she had no idea where they were going or how long they would be gone for - and she was excited about it.  It was her chance to do something that would make a difference - and it wasn’t killing for coin.  A smile washed uncontrollably over her visage as this came to light while she awaited his information.

Author: Marth, Posted: Thu Mar 3, 2016 12:04 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth was awakened by the priest with a humble breakfast after mrning prayers. Marth got up and stretched, noting that he'd indeed slept well. Before the Reaver event, Marth could typically get by with no more than five hours of sleep each night - this night he'd had more than six, so he felt better than he had for a long time. He ate his breakfast cheerfully, got dressed, and prepared to leave. He thanked the priests for their hospitality and understanding on his way out, leaving a respectable donation in the charity box. He had already packed the night before, so he was ready to go in mere minutes.

Spotting Dalanesca proved no difficult task, despite her stealth-friendly clothing. A female character standing idly by a city gate, clad all in black and geared for travel and combat, Marth spotted her from some distance away and approach. As the bells began to chime, Marth called out her name. "Miss Dalanesca!" At this point, Dalanesca would notice a few things: His stubbly beard had been neatly cut and groomed, his wild, tangled hair had been cut short in Wyllmochvarian fashion, and his robes and weapon was clean, and without any tatters. In stark contrast to the weathered, stranded veteran he looked like the night before, he now appeared a respectable mage.

"Glad to see you're punctual," he said with a smile when he was close enough to really confirm it was her. He gave her the briefest of glances, and his experience as a troop commander kicked in. Ever so slight slouch. Upper eyelids lower than usual. Eyes slightly reddened. Fresh scratches on scabbards and belts - somewhat unsteady hands. He didn't make a fuss of it, though, beyond joking around a little. "I see you finished that bottle I gave you last night," he said with a crooked grin. "Well, I'm hope you're ready to walk. I want to put at least ten miles behind us before we stop for a rest." He gestured towards the road, letting Dalanesca go before him.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Thu Mar 3, 2016 10:16 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

She nodded in agreement with Marth.  “Alright then,” she said, as he explained that he did not need to use her quarters.  Though she would have gladly given them up to him, she was silently grateful that she would not need to.  She had everything she needed in that room, and she would not have to bother Myter for another room for the night - though she knew he would have been more than happy to give her one.  As he mentioned the timing and location of their meeting in the morning, she gave him a crooked smile.  “Sounds like a plan,” she said.  He left with a bow, and Dalanesca was left alone at the table, her gaze following him out.  When he had left, she sank back in her chair and reached for the bottle of wine left on the table, opting to finish it by drinking straight out of the bottle rather than pouring the remainder into her glass.  

Myter joined her at the table after the evening had worn on.  He must have overheard at least the part of her conversation with Marth about her leaving.  “When’re you gonna’ be back?” he asked her.  A note of sadness was apparent in her voice that she had never heard from him before.  She looked at him, setting the now-empty wine bottle on the table in front of her, and simply shrugged her shoulders.  She said nothing, and got up from her chair and walked to Myter, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. 

After a moment, she let go and gave him a quick smile.  “See you around, friend,” she said, and headed for the stairs to her room.  She inserted the key into the lock and stepped inside her room, shutting the door quietly behind her.  Without undressing, she flopped down onto her bed and closed her eyes, falling into a sleep much deeper than she had anticipated.

-

The ringing of bells outside her room’s window woke her the next morning.  A dull throb pounded in her head, a result she was sure she could blame on the meade and wine she had drank before.  Silently, she counted the bells in her head.  One… two… three… four… five… six…  She closed her eyes, grateful that she still had another hour before she was to meet Marth for their journey - but she bolted out of bed when she realized she needed to meet him at the eastern gate of the city.  She hadn’t gathered her things yet, and she sped into action gathering her weapons and adjusting her clothing.

In record time, she made it out of the room and through the now-closed tavern, weapons strapped in their proper places and clothing secured in the way she liked.  She was dressed in the garb she once would have worn for an assassination.  She had found that the garments made stealth much easier.  Ebony fabric covered her nearly head to toe, with a hood drawn over her head and a guard covering her mouth.  

She made it to the eastern gate before the bells began to chime seven, and leaned against a brick wall behind her.  Though the sun was beating down in its early stages in the sky, the air was brisk and cold, and she was thankful for the cloak at her back.  Her hands free since her weapons were all strapped to various places of her body, she drew her hood more tightly around her head, a few stray strands of hair jutting out from below it.  There she decided to wait, watching in the direction of the temple that she assumed Marth would be coming from, and struggling to decide how she would hide the fact that she was not feeling at her best.  

Author: Marth, Posted: Thu Mar 3, 2016 2:18 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth finished his wine while listening to Dalanesca, letting her finish. "Of course I want you along. I'd be able to make good use of your talents, and now that you are, shall we say, initiated into my little predicament, it'd be stupid of me not to." He stood up. "I won't require your room for repairs, however. I'm staying in a local temple, and the clergy there has everything I need. I suggest we meet by the easternmost gate of the city, at seven bells tomorrow morning. That'll give us both time to prepare." Marth took a bow, smiled ever so slightly, and turned to leave, leaving the rest of the wine bottle behind for Dalanesca to enjoy.

Coming back to the temple, Marth greeted the clergy, whom had agreed to letting him stay when he showed the badge of the Fellhunter Fraternity. His room was nothing special - a bunk, a table, and all the basics like shaving kit, ink, quill, some rolls of paper, and, by Marth's request, a tailor's kit. Marth was slightly tipsy, but not tired. He decided it was time he looked more repectable. Not trusting the stability of his own fingers, he began by cutting his hair, then went on to shaving, then to tailoring as the alcohol subsided. Marth kept on working until midnight had already passed, but he knew he'd rest well tonight. He requested that the priest on night-duty had him awoken in time to leave the next morning, then went to bed.

For the first time in nearly two years, Marth slept through the night, uninterrupted by nightmares.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Wed Mar 2, 2016 1:48 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

“I would not hesitate to do so,” she said, her tone and her expression quite serious. Though her memory was still spotty from her time before coming to Canelux, she knew that she had dealt with many things in her life. Neutralizing an unnaturally horrible enemy would be nothing new, it would just be adapting to how horrible the enemy actually was. “And, if you can give me warning, as you claim to be able to, we will be able to head it off before it comes to pass,” she said, though the confidence in her voice wavered.

Glad that the subject had taken a lighter turn, she listened intently as Marth described more in detail his history with the Wyllmochvarian military, and then ventured into his abilities as a tailor. Truth be told, she had not paid much attention to Marth’s clothing, but now that he had brought it to her attention she did, in fact, notice the tattered state of his robes. She didn’t say anything, but she glanced down at her own clothing. She had never realized until just now how much pride she actually took in her appearance - it seemed to be a subconscious action on her part. Looking back up at him, she let out a chuckle as he mentioned his adeptness with leather. “Is it that obvious I’d need leatherwork?” she asked, gesturing down at her clothing, which was comprised of leather leggings, leather boots, and a leather corset over a black tunic. “It takes a beating sometimes, I’ll give you that.”

She drained the remainder of wine from her cup and reached out to the bottle on the table to fill it again. The pale color of her cheeks had taken on a hint of a blush, thanks to the meade from earlier combined with the current wine. Maybe she would get some sleep this night after all. “Do you need tools?” she asked, after a long silence. She let out a strange laugh, realizing how out of context the question seemed after their discussion had already ended. “For fixing your robes, I mean.” She looked quietly contemplative for a moment before continuing to speak.

“Like I said earlier, feel free to use my room upstairs to prepare. I’ll get another from Myter, and then you’ve not got to spend the coin on it,” she added. “It’s got a decent size table in it, might be useful for your repairs,” she continued, taking another drink of wine. “I’ll just need to get my blades out of there - need to sharpen them ‘fore we go,” she said, her speech taking on a more relaxed and casual tone than previous. “Assuming, I mean, that you’ll want me with weapons on this quest!” she added. She gave him an awkward smile and sat quietly, unsure where their conversation was going to head.

Author: Marth, Posted: Tue Mar 1, 2016 2:26 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth heard Dalanesca's answer out in full, his expression not changing with her answer to the first question. For the second, however, he looked down with a slight frown. "Protecting me is all well and good. But I have to tell you, if you think I'm about to have a violent episode, you're better off incapacitating me before it starts. I don't know how bad I might be - it's never actually gone that far - but if I am even remotely comparable to the thing that's destabilizing me, it's bad. As in, natural phenomenon bad."

He grabbed his cup again, and emptied it. He looked up at Dalanesca again, smiling, to show he was still on track. "Not to worry, though. I am confident I can give you a warning before it happens." He filled his cup again. "Well, shall we swap information on special talents and abilities? I can go first."

He had a swig. "Like I mentioned, I was a captain in the Wyllmochvarian infantry. And a battlemage. Naturally, that means politics, command, tactics, strategy, navigation, and close-range combat are all things I am familiar with." He thought for a moment. "I'm especially talented in the subschool of elemental arcane magic known as dracomancy. Most of my spells are arcane derivatives of dragon abilities. Don't confuse them with replicas - I have real dragonfire, not the cheap knock-offs many magi use for the visual impact." He thought some more. "I've also been taught a few cleansing rituals. The clergy that finally caught me agreed to teach me a thing or two after I woke up." Another swig of wine. "Not powerful stuff, but enough to protect campsites and such." He patted one of his satchels to make sure his little instruction manual was still there. "Finally, I am - believe it or not - a pretty good tailor. many Wyllmochvarian battlemagi take pride in customizing, repairing, and embriodering their own robes and armour. I'm familiar with leather, too, which might help both of us in the long run."

After he finished talking, Marth looked down at his own poorly-kept robes with a frown. "Speaking of which, I should probably get around to making myself look respectable again." He held up the sleeve of his robe with a smile. "Wouldn't want my work to go to waste from poor maintainance, would we?" The fine embroidery and nigh-invisible stitches and patches on the old battle-worn robe aside, Marth's cheeks were getting a little flushed. Clearly, it had been a long time since he last drank his fill.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Tue Mar 1, 2016 10:12 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

“I’ve always prided myself on being totally level headed!” she said, with fake offense.  She let out another chuckle, glad to see that he was indeed capable of humor.  At mention of his actions earlier on in the evening, she brushed it off with a wave of her hand.  “Don’t even worry about it, Marth,” she said, grinning.  “What’s done is done and nothing more will come of it… except for when it does, but we will deal with it at that point.”

She watched him carefully as he seemed to intensely think about what information he could share with her.  After he finished, she was quiet for a moment as she thought of what to say.  “Instability is nothing I can’t handle,” she said, matter-of-factly.  “Everything will be fine,” she said, though her assuredness seemed to trail off as he continued on, his air taking a more serious tone.  He explained the first scenario, which she found it easy to answer.

“In that situation I would protect you until it was safe to relocate you, at which time I would safely get you to another location, and I would not leave your side until the episode had passed.”  She was astute and to the point, and it was clear that she would indeed make his safety the number one priority in such a situation.  The next scenario, however, proved a bit more difficult to respond to.  She took a moment to quietly contemplate before replying.

Her voice was serious.  “In that situation I will neutralize you, which believe me, I would be capable of doing,” she said.  It was clear that she felt confident she would be able to do such without any harm coming to Marth.  “I would then relocate you to a safe location until you regained composure,” she added, matter-of-factly.  She looked at him, hoping that his reaction to her answer would be positive.

Author: Marth, Posted: Tue Mar 1, 2016 8:57 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

MArth watched Dalanesca pour wine greedily with a slight grin. She began talking about herself, going on about memory loss and personality changes. Marth nearly burst out laughing when she apologised for not making sense. "You heard my story, and saw how I acted, not five minutes ago… And now you worry I will think you are crazy? I'd never have pegged you for being so self-concious." He took a good, deep drink of his wine, chuckling lightly. "Well, let's see…"

Marth thought about what to ask. There were many things he was interested in knowing, but most might be more suited to a different time. Marth took another swig of wine, before speaking. "Well, I already feel like I have a lot of the information I need. But there are a few details to hammer out." His tone got serious all of a sudden. "As you've probably understood, I get… Unstable, at times. Mostly they're just nervous breakdowns, but…" He sighed.

"I need to know how you'll handle these two scenarios." He slid his cup away for a moment, showing he was serious. "One, I curl up, unable to act for fear, hallucinations, whatever. It's important that I am taken elsewhere - not too far, but elsewhere. For example if I get a panic attack in a city."

His voice dropped a key, and his facial expression got grim. "Two: I unhinge completely and become hostile to everything around me." He looked at Dalanesca, awaiting her response with a life-or-death expression.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Tue Mar 1, 2016 8:40 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

She hid her delight when Marth accepted her idea of staying in the tavern a bit longer.  “Sounds like a plan,” she said, finding herself feeling even further relaxed knowing that she would be able to get a night of rest in before the events of their mission unfolded - though she knew that a night of rest would not consist of sleeping, but rather lying in her bed in her room, staring at the ceiling, and thinking about what was to come. 

“Have you a place to stay tonight?” she asked.  “You can use my room, if you want.  Myter can get me another, or I’ll fix a cot,” she said, offering her quarters as a gesture of goodwill.  “And an hour is good, it’ll give me time to talk to Myter a bit and let him know that I won’t be around any longer,” she added.  She’d miss the daft barkeep, and she knew he would miss her as well.

She moved to get up to go to the bar when Marth beat her to the punch, and she found herself chuckling quietly.  He seemed to enjoy drinking as much as she - perhaps the two of them would get along just fine on this mission.  

When he returned, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.  “I’ve been drinking meade all night, wine’s even better,” she said, reaching for the bottle after he had poured one for himself.  She poured a good serving into her flagon and sat back in her chair.  “Well, you’ve told me an awful lot about yourself already,” she said, taking a drink of the wine and pausing.  “And honestly… I don’t know what I can tell you about myself.  I, uh… well, I used to be an assassin,” she said, before realizing that that information had already been apparent.

“And, to be honest,” she said, leaning back with a sigh.  “I can’t really tell you much about myself.  I can tell you everything about myself since I got to Canelux… but that’s about it.  Stuff’s starting to come back to me in flashes, but I’m pretty sure I used to be somewhere else… actually I think I used to be someone else.”  She shook her head with a bit of a laugh, realizing how crazy she must sound to Marth.  “Sorry, I know that probably makes absolutely no sense to you,” she said, pushing her hair back with one hand and taking a drink with the other.  “But I guess it’s part of who I am?” she said, shrugging.  It was quite obvious that the uncertainty had an odd barring on her persona.  “Anything you want to know about me?” she asked.  “I mean… anything I might be able to answer, that is,” she added, laughing again.  

Author: Marth, Posted: Tue Mar 1, 2016 7:47 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth listened to Dalanesca, pondering her proposition. "Well, I suppose we can take a few more drinks. I need to get a few small things done before we leave, but I'd rather cover as much ground as possible on our first day. So I suggest we have a sit-down, talk for a bit, and after that, we both make our preparations." Marth thought for a second. "I'll need at least an hour before I go to sleep to make preparations. Which leaves me roughly an hour to chat. Hang on." Marth walked over to the bar counter, and got a bottle from the barkeep. He left some coinds and returned to the table.

"Hope you don't hate wine," he said, putting the bottle on the table. It was nothing special, not cheap nor expensive, a fair vintage. He sat down, pouring himself a drink. "Well, is there anything you wish to know about me? Or anything you'd like to tell me about yourself?"

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Tue Mar 1, 2016 7:00 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Though Marth was not exactly looking directly at her, Dalanesca could feel that he was at least listening to her.  It was clear that he had understood what she had masked behind her words when she spoke of her home - though she found herself a bit surprised when she saw a grin creep across her soon-to-be partner’s face.  Relief washed over her as she watched the man grab the dram of gin, and she could see the aura resonating from the magic within him.  When he looked back at her, she could see something in his eyes - something different, something far more alive than she had yet to see in him.

She nodded in agreement, clinking her own drink against his and taking a deep swig from the warm liquid.  When she set the flagon down with a dull thud, she caught his gaze once more.  She could tell that Marth was studying her intently - perhaps it was because he seemed to be in a solid state of mind finally?  She could not blame the man - she was studying him just as much as he was her.  Once she could see his posture relax and his gaze unlock from her own eyes, she relaxed as well, and listened to him carefully.

With a nod, she confirmed that she seemed to understand the basics of the mission.  Redemption was something she knew all too well - after all, she had been making a living off of killing others for money.  When Marth slammed the slip of parchment down onto the table, she reached out and slid it towards herself, shifting her gaze down to take in the words.  Whoever had written it had a loose grasp of language, but it was enough where it made a bit of sense.  After re-reading it a second time, she slid the parchment back across the table to Marth and leaned back in her chair, taking a drink of the remaining meade in her flagon.  

“He’s not the only one with contacts,” she said, the tone of her voice taking something different on all together.  “And eradication… eradication is not a problem,” she said.  “I will not resort to violence, but I will not hesitate for a moment if the need arises,” she added, her gaze meeting his own.  “And stealth… well, I’ve got us covered, there.”  

She could see that Marth was allowing her to take her time in deciding whether or not she wanted to accept his ‘mission.’  She didn’t need the time - her mind had already been made up.  “Of course I accept,” she said, leaning forward slightly on her chair and draining the flagon of meade she held.  “Now my only question becomes… do we head out tonight?  Or do we celebrate this new partnership with a few more drinks and hit the trails at sunrise?” she said, raising an eyebrow at Marth.  As itching as she was to get to the mission, she thought to herself that the pair of them spending a bit of ‘bonding’ time together before they departed on such a long and dangerous task.  

Author: Marth, Posted: Thu Feb 25, 2016 11:49 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Marth listened in silence to Dalanesca, his gaze elsewhere. He learned some time ago that voice pitch, word selection, and sentence structure could reveal just as much as body language. It proved true this time. Her voice had an almost indistinguishable edge of excitement, and while she spoke of her "home" with some fondness, the tension in her voice when she said she needed to get away betrayed the fact that she was itching to do so. His train of thought finally following a more or less normal track, and the prospect of a partnership and progress in his quest, marth couldn't help but grin. There was something else, too - momentum. If I can establish 'momentum', I can stabilize a bit, huh? Fine by me. It'll be just like a campaign, all about impetus. His hand reached out and grabbed the gin, perfectly stable. The veins on the side of his neck began to glow a little. The sensation was familiar, his blood responding to his excitement by stimulating his magic. And this time, the magic felt like his own. He looked up at the woman, the soldier's spark in his eyes.

"Sure, let's drink. It's been a while since I felt this optimistic about anything." He held out his drink to clang against Dalanesca's, then downed it. he locked eyes with her, measuring her, breathing deeply. After a brief pause, he leant back in his chair. "You probably have an inkling about the mission by now. Your hunches would, in this case, probably be correct. I've experienced the devastating power of these demon shards up close. To wash my hands of the blood, there's only one path to redemption." He pulled a piece of parchment out of his sleeve. "Eradication of the remaining shards. So I've been gathering information." He slammed the parchment onto the table and unrolled it. It was a letter. Private, byt the looks of the broken seal. On said parchment, in crude handwriting, was written a short message.

The bloke wat nows the place the shards been hidden is a bloke wat goes by the name of Devil Eyes Borza, som dark wissard bloke wat works for cash. Make sure you bring the money, and get watever in-formashan ya can. Don't do anythin stupid, that bloke is not on to be fucked with. He tends to hang out at the Highborn Ogre, on the hiway tween Adeluna and the Vilapmolan Coast. Bloke got a mansion in Egjora, but don't approach him there. Bloke got contacts and might screw ya over.

Marth looked at Dalanesca, allowing her to read the message. After a while, he spoke. "Dark wizards… I've taken down a few in my time. I'm hoping it won't come to blows, but if it does, I'll need you close to strike if it gets ugly. I'll leave the stealth elements to you. Above all, we need the information he posesses. This is stage one of the mission. Do you accept?" He looked at her with an expression that said 'take your time'. Clearly, he already had a rough plan in place, but he was eager to hear Dalanesca's thoughts.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Wed Feb 24, 2016 7:54 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Something in Marth’s face seemed to indicate that whatever sort of episode he had been experiencing was beginning to subside.  His eyes seemed to study her face, and a barrage of emotions decorated his expression.  It seemed as though he was unsure what to think about the way that she was treating him, but after a moment he had looked away again.  She chewed on her lower lip, unsure how to react to the situation at current.

Within moments, he was thanking her for her calm reaction to what he had informed her of.  She nodded, watching him with interest as he seemed to rebounding from whatever episode it was that he had been experiencing.  In her lifetime, she had seen and experienced innumerable things which allowed her to be a bit more understanding of what Marth was telling her.  “I’m not going to flee,” she said, matter-of-factly.  

She perked up at the thought of the task being ‘risky,’ as he put it.  She had a lack of excitement in her life since she had given up assassination.  The adrenaline rush that one received from knowing that one’s life may possibly be in danger was like no other, and the thought of being able to experience that feeling again gave her even more interest.  “Say no more regarding the pay,” she said, waving her hand at him in an attempt to tell him that he needn’t worry.  “You’ll pay me what you can when you can without putting yourself in the poor house.”  The words she spoke were not a suggestion, but firm and commanding. 

At his comment of her not being able to return home for a long time, she almost laughed.  Managing to stifle the laughter, she reminded herself that not returning home wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t think I would have a problem with being away from here for a while,” she said.  She waved an arm around the tavern.  “This place is pretty much my home right now, anyway.  Myter might miss me,” she said, looking towards the barkeep with a bit of a grin, before turning back to Marth.  “But I need to get out of here, anyway,” she added.  

A moment of silence spread between the two and she studied his face.  She could not quite make out what exactly he was thinking, but it did not seem to be negatively turned towards her.  “So.  I’ll come with you to do whatever it is you need me to do,” she said.  “Shall we have a drink to celebrate this new-found partnership?” she asked, raising her goblet of meade towards him, and gesturing towards the dram of gin she had already brought him earlier on which had sat by the wayside during their discussion.

Author: Marth, Posted: Fri Feb 19, 2016 4:55 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

The echo of Reaver sang in Marth's head, but something was off. It was pulsing… As if the voice had to make an effort to be heard. "Marth, O Marth, where'd … ..ity go? Son of m.. … ..ow?" Marth suddenly stopped crying. Reaver was struggling, and Marth didn't know why. Waves of relief and terror washed over him as he tried to understand this new phenomenon. For a few moments, he was just trembling, until Dalanesca's voice crept into his mind, her light touch finally noticed. The rogue. She's… Marth wiped his tears and looked up at her. His facial expression morphing between nervous wonderment, fondness, and scepticism. He looked back down on the floor and took a breath to steady himself.

"… Thank you for not recoiling. Too many people have been doing that already… So, uh… Yes, thank you." He rubbed his eyes, gritting his teeth. His troubles seemed to be receding - he'd have a longer respite from his instability. Running a glowing hand over his face, the tears and blood got washed away. "I'll be frank with you, the job is risky. I don't have a lot of silver on me at the moment, but I have a number of assets I can liquify as needed. If you're interested, I'll hire you for half again the sum of the lifeguard's guild's standard year-long contract. This assumes, of course, you're willing to take on a year-long job. I won't lie, the job I'm trying to do will probably take several years. If you want to come along, you won't go back home for a long time."

As he spoke, Marth returned gradually to his old self. The commander, the soldier, the battlemage. Only the slightest hints - a twitch if his lips, a wrinkle around his eye, a twist of his foot as he spoke to Dalanesca, betrayed the gratitude and fondness he was beginning to harbour towards her. This sense of security and respite was something the veteran had experienced before, but he couldn't help but feel that somehow this woman anchored him. As if she represented reality, somehow. Her down-to-earth demeanour, rogueish appearance and very much human sympathy came together to remind Marth he was still in fact alive. The sensation wasn't romantic - at least not as far as Marth realised - but along the lines of a trusted companion. Something he desperately needed.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Mon Feb 1, 2016 9:00 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Dalanesca withheld a gasp as the man uncovered his face, as she could see the blood that had mixed with his salty tears.  She drew no attention to the fact that she noticed it, realizing that this man wasn’t entirely mentally stable.  She offered the man a weak smile as he wiped his face, assuring her that he was alright.  At that comment, she had to fight off the urge to raise an eyebrow at the man - he surely did not seem alright.

She narrowed her eyes slightly at the man in regards to the manner that he chose to divulge information to her.  Making someone promise not to regale any of the information being told was essentially a precursor to a strange or intense story - possibly one that was completely unbelieveable. Returning her gaze to its normal state, she nodded.  “Alright, you’ve got my word,” she said, and she got up from her kneeling position to sit down in the chair near his own which he had made available to her moments before.  

The man began with explaining his name, and his history.  She paid close attention, even though the tale seemed to be taking the route that so many before had.  It seemed to be a tale of military tactics once more, and she could already feel herself getting bored, until his voice trailed off.  The man seemed ill at ease and uncertain about continuing.  The man was shaking, crying, his breathing was erratic… all of the signs of a panic attack.  

Dalanesca found herself oddly concerned with Marth’s well being, for having been someone she just met.  She could tell he was attempting to continue the story, but he seemed to be so psychologically affected by the memories that he couldn’t go on.  She waited very patiently, but at that point he began to wave his hand at her to signify that he was ready to go on.  When he continued, she found herself listening in horror at his telling of just what this ‘shard’ did to him.  She had experienced a lot of horrible things in her life, and seen a lot of horrible things that people had done to others… but the thought of not being in control of your own body and watching as some parasitic demon moved your hands to torture and kill innocent people?  The thought made her nauseous, and she found herself feeling even more sympathetic for Marth.

He had collapsed into tears again, so Dalanesca moved her chair closer to his own.  Tentatively, she reached out and gently placed her hand on the man’s knee, in an attempt to comfort him but also being careful not to startle him.  There was nothing suggestive or provocative about her touch, but merely comforting.  Though she did not know exactly how it felt to go through specifically what Marth had, she knew what it was like to feel like you had no control over the situation as a whole.

“It’s not you,” she said quietly, in an attempt to assuage his incoherency.  Though she didn’t know the man other than what had just been told to her, she couldn’t imagine a normal person being that terrible.  “Just relax, take a breath,” she added, her voice quiet and soothing.  “I’ll get you another gin,” she said, pulling her hand from his leg and walking towards the bar.  She asked Myter for a drink, who knew better than to ask questions, and he came back with both a dram of gin and another goblet of meade for her.  She walked back over to Marth and set his gin quietly on the table, returning to her own seat.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk again,” she said softly, and leaned back in her chair.  She took a sip of her meade and sat quietly, contemplating the gory images that Marth’s story had put into her mind.

Author: Marth, Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2016 9:51 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Crybaby, crybaby, curl up now and die, maybe?! Token, token, worthless now, you're broken! Soldier, soldier, give up an y- The voice of Reaver suddenly fell away as the woman approached him, and began talking. Marth hadn't even noticed her presence. Her voice was softer, now, however, and he wasn't startled. It wasn't until then that Marth realised he was bleeding. He shiften in his seat, allowing the woman to sit next to him. He wiped blood and tears off his face, took a deep breath, and flexed his fingers. "I'm alright, I'm alright," he said mostly to himself.

"If you're really willing to help, I suppose it's only fair that I tell you what exactly you'll be wading into. But I cannot have you spreading the tale. When I'm done, I'm certain you'll understand why." He took a moment, closing eyes, taking a few breaths. Clearly, recalling the tale was something that rattled him. To his credit, however, his voice remained steady, and he kept himself coherent. "My name is Marth Coralax. I used to be an officer of the Wyllmochvarian expeditionary forces. Captain, to be more precise. My first mission as captain was to retrieve an artifact, known only as a 'Shard of Reaver'. I was told the artiface was a remnant of some kind of demon." Marth took a moment to collect himself. Clearly, it was needed, for he had begun crying again without realising it. He held firm, however. "That much was true. I led my troops into a dead zone. Attrition claimed over a hundred people. When we first found the shard, it was harmless. In the dead zone, it was paralysed. When we got out - less than seventy out of three hundred and fifty lived. And when I next thouched the shard…"

Marth took a moment again. He was about to collapse, he felt it. All the symptoms were there - shaking, tears, hyperventilation. For a full two minutes, Marth was immobilized, incapable of doing anything but try to recover. When he was finally done, he was waving in Dalanesca's direction. "A moment, I'll finish, just…" A few more seconds passed before Marth took a deep breath and steadied himself. "The demon is parastitic. It feeds on the misery of the host. Using my body, it went on a killing spree. First my comrades, then civilians, for a full year and a half. I saw, heard, smelled, tasted and felt everything, but I had no control. I was forced to watch as that demon…" He cleared his throat, and clenched his eyes shut. To his credit, he continued talking. "Tortured my comrades, slew them, and then razed village after village to the ground. Men, women and children - all raped, dismembered, slain and cannibalized."

Once again, Marth broke down into tears. it was plain he wouldn't be saying anything coherent for a few minutes.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2016 8:38 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

When the man began shaking his head as though to ignore something, she found herself intrigued.  She watched him take a quick drink of his gin with interest, waiting to see what his next action would be. There was clearly something slightly off about this particular man, but she was a little unsure as to what exactly that was.  She had known so many people in her life that she felt as though she had seen just about every problem with a person there was to be seen, and not much could put her in any state of unease.  

He began to speak, though she could see that he was nervous about something.  Whatever artifact it was that the man spoke of to her had her intrigued - it was obvious that this man was weary of the artifact and perhaps not the only one looking for it - but the mention of destruction piqued her interests even further.  It sounded like a quest, of sorts, and that meant it could be something that would get her out of the tavern and back into the world… without killing someone for a pocket full of coin.  

She watched him with one eyebrow raised as he zapped some sort of spell into his mind, which seemed to calm him down.  Catching his eye as he glanced at her, she silently watched him for a moment, before speaking up herself.  “If these are the effects you speak of,” she began, gesturing to him in indication of his behavior.  “Not so sure why you think that would make me want to get anywhere near it, even if we were going to destroy it,” she added, with a bit of a laugh, though the laughter faded when she saw his demeanor lessen even further.

She listened to him stumble through his words, and almost felt pity for him - she found herself wondering what would have put him into such a state where he could barely explain what it was that he needed help with.  She watched the range of emotion that spanned his face with a bit of concern, and before she could get a word in he had slapped a heavy portion of silver down on the counter and taken off, back towards where he had been sitting in the first place.  Myter hadn’t been far from the two of them, but he was usually good about minding his own business and hadn’t seemed to be paying much attention until he heard the clatter of the coin on the counter.  He gave Dalanesca a look with a pair of raised eyebrows.

She looked at the pile of coins, and at Myter.  With a sigh, she shook her head, to which the barkeep gave her an understanding laugh.  She scooped a good portion of the silver back into her hands, still leaving enough to cover the drink that he had ordered and leave a hefty tip for Myter, and headed back to where she could see the man, now with his head hanging in his hands.  Whatever part of her it was that felt compassion towards others had kicked in - the part that had forced her to stop assassinating people.  When she reached him, she gently and soundlessly laid the coin on the table next to him and dropped to one knee in front of him. 

“Hey now, stop that,” she said, quietly.  Her tone had lost the sharpness and confidence it held earlier, and now had more of a caring sound.  When the man didn’t respond first off, she reached up as though to place her hand over his own and remove it from covering his face, but she pulled her hand back and thought better of it.  Whatever this man had experienced had obviously damaged his psyche in some form, and she didn’t need to be having her wrist broken.  Instead, she stayed in her kneeling position.

With a moment’s hesitation, she let out a sigh and began speaking.  “I’ll help you,” she said, though the resolve in her voice was wavering.  “But on one condition.  You have to at least explain… this, whatever it is,” she said, gesturing her hand towards him as a whole.  “There’s something going on here, and I don’t need all the details, but at least enough to know what’s going on.”

Author: Marth, Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2016 12:06 PM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Oho, oho, you have her ear! Oh, my, oh, my, you're very near! So, near, so near, yet far away, she sees you true, what will she say? HAHAHAHAHAhahahahahaha… Marth shook his head and shut his eyes tightly, shaking the echo away for a moment. He flashed a brief expression of fear when he realised he'd been so obviously disturbed by something that wasn't there. He hastily took another swig of his gin, before talking.

"Suffice to say I've seen firsthand the effects of a rather dangerous artifact, and I need to see its bretheren destroyed." He was beginning to sweat, he realised, the cold sweat that came with terror. He winced at the realisation, understanding that he must seem more insane by the minute. He tapped his forehead, visibly channeling magic from his finger into his head, creating a circut of energy which finally brought his nerves under control. He looked at Dalanesca briefly, before staring back into his cup.

"I-I apologise. I'm still recovering." He took a deep breath, and returned to normal. The terror faded, replaced by saddened apprehension. "What I need is someone with complete discretion, and the ability to do things I can't. And, if nessecary…" He downed the remainder of his gin, his face suddenly stern and determined. "To stop me if I snap. As you might've realised… I'm not entirely stable at the moment." Fear returned, fear of losing a potential ally. "P-please consider it. I-I can pay, and I won't be as jittery once I'm quit of civilization. I-…" He turned his head down, in shame, and blushed. His voice dropped lower. "I-I'm sorry. I am wasting your time. Please forget I said anything, and have a drink on me by way of apology."

He left a far too large amount of silver on the counter and quickly jumped off his barstool, returning to his corner. His walk was brusque, military, but as he sat down, he cradled his face in his hands and begun to rock nervously back and forth. Fucked it up, fucked it up, botched it, failed, and mucked it up! Cor-a-lax, Cor-a-lax, crying as his re-solve cracks! Hahahahaha! Marth began sobbing, quietly, retreating inward, consumed by his mistake. You're right, Reaver, I made a royal mess of it. I hope you're happy. I'll never find the other shards. Never. Never. Never. Never… Without realising, he was biting his lip, a single trickle of blood trailing down his chin to mix with tears, as the images of the monstrosities committed with his arms threatened to consume him entirely.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2016 11:38 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

She was grateful for the mild silence that had returned to her evening after she had thwarted the brawl that was likely to have taken place in the back of the tavern.  The silence remained for a few moments while she sipped on her meade, half-wondering if she was going to hear the men in the back start fighting again.  She was quite sure that she had made her point, but she knew from experience that men tended to let their emotions get the best of them and cause more trouble even when they know that causing such trouble will not end well for them.  

A few moments later, a man sat down at the stool next to Dalanesca.  She found herself mildly annoyed that the patron had chosen that particular seat as there were no others sitting at any of the stools.  Nevertheless, she turned her gaze towards him and offered him a polite nod to acknowledge his presence.  The man seemed unremarkable to her - dressed in worn, but decent robes, equipped with a weapon of his own.  He did not seem to want to cause any problem, and he was silent - at first- so, she decided she did not mind.

That changed when he spoke up.  He was holding a cup of gin that she had seen Myter pouring, and spoke to her in a rough voice.  She turned her head towards him almost mmediately, the goblet of meade still clutched in her hand.  “I do,” she answered, rather than offering thanks in the normal manner that one would respond to a compliment.  She eyed him with caution.  She had learned from years of experience that men did not approach her in a tavern just to compliment her weaponry skills.  She nearly rolled her eyes at his next phrase, but instead chose to turn her body on the stool so she was facing him.  

She was dressed head to toe in form fitting garb - she had yet to abandon the clothing she wore in her previous profession.  The apparel allowed her to easily stow the weapons she was accustomed to carrying.  Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulder, dark as onyx.  She narrowed her eyes at the newcomer, a bit of a smirk flashing over lips.  “I’ll do what I please,” she said, her voice low and smooth.  It was clear that she was used to dealing with casual talkers, but she could tell he wanted something.  “I’m sure you’ve no ill intentions, but what is it you want?” she asked, putting the edge of the goblet to her lips and taking a long drink.

Setting the goblet down, she continued speaking to him.  “I’ve been around long enough to know that you don’t compliment a woman’s weaponry skills unless you want to meet her blade, or use her blade,” she said, the smile never fading from her lips.  She was acting with a bit more sass than she normally would, choosing to blame the looseness of her words on the multiple goblets of meade she had consumed.  “I mean, I’m all ears,” she continued, leaning towards him expectantly.  “So, do tell… you’ve got me interested.”  

She eyed him up and down for a moment, taking in his demeanor.  She could tell he had seen battle before, but she was never good at placing what type of battle people had been in.  “You look like you’ve been around a time or two as well,” she added, raising her goblet towards him in salute.  She took another long drink and set the stone cup back on the bar counter, her hands reaching down to hold the sides of her stool.  “Come now, don’t keep a girl waiting!  What’ve you got in mind?”  If she was correct and he did indeed have some sort of proposition involving something other than sitting in a dingy tavern, she would more than likely accept.

Author: Marth, Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2016 10:42 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

The Coralax is frightened, the Coralax is scared, the Coralax became the thing that he most in this world feared! The singsong voice of the violent demon, Reaver, rang like an echo in the back of Marth Coralax's mind. He was sitting quietly in a corner, an untouched cup of gin in front of him. The place was quiet, something for which he was tremendously grateful. The noise and squalor of the city reminded him all to well of the havoc he had seen in his life, and the sudden glances of armed men sent a jolt up his spine every time, without fail. Not that Marth was afraid of losing a fight - he was more afraid of what would happen if he got too startled. A jumpy battlemage, he knew, was a dangerous thing, but even so, he had to be here.

Chase me, chase me, hunt me and erase me! Marth found it extremely unnerving that the echo of the demon was taunting him to find and destroy more of itself, but Marth understood that demons, especially the mad ones, were unpredictable in this manner. The part that had posessed him for so long was mad enough to do such a thing. The paladins insisted Reaver was gone. Maybe I'm just going mad myself. The thought was bizarrely comforting. Marth looked at the gin in front of him. It had been his drink of choice, before Reaver. Before the time when all he could taste was blood. Here goes nothing. He downed the drink in one go, as he had done before. The taste of pine needles and the burning sensation of the spirits washing down his throat calmed him. So this is what they meant about an anchor to the past. What was more, the echo of Reaver receded. Probably temporarily, but Marth didn't care, much. He was glad of the reprieve, and with the echo gone, he coul feel himself becoming less jittery.

His nerves steadied, Marth dared to take a look at his surroundings. The patrons were few - two men sat in the back, looking annoyed at one another. A trio of merchants sat near the exit, swapping news. A sailor had passed out in another corner of the tavern. And by the bar sat an armed female, having a chat with the barkeep. All in all, the place was quiet. If Marth was to sleep somewhere, this place might do. Marth scarce wanted to be startled by a brawl in the middle of the night and accidentally cast a spell he'd regret casting. When a man fears his own anxiety, he is broken, Marth mused. It was a mantra of Wyllmochvarian officers that men afraid of their own fears could not be relied on in battle. Marth was inclined to agree. If he was to hunt down the other shards of the terrible creature Reaver, he'd need help.

The two men in the back began getting louder. Marth sensed a conflict. He couldn't rely on himself to resolve it as he could before. But neither did he want this place to be turned upside down. While he was lost in thought, pondering how to deal with the situation, the female who was sitting at the bar went up to the men. She sounded at first like she was going to charm them to stop. "Excuse me, gentlemen?" she said, sweet as summerwine. When the men didn't reply, the woman drew a knife and rammed its tip into the table in a blur. In his seat, Marth startled, a tiny spark flying from his finger. Luckily, it went unnoticed. "You'll have to forgive me for being so… barbaric," the woman continued, her voice now stern as iron. "But you see, I'm sitting over at the counter, attempting to have a quiet, event-less evening, and you two… You two arn't doing much help with that." Marth managed to calm himself. He could see now that the woman was dangerous. By her skill with a small knife and the pitch and stride of her walk, she was accustomed to stealth. She is hot, Marth is not, he'll never know, what she got! Marth shook his head. Silence, demon. Marth didn't care about the woman's appearance, only her skillset. Someone like that could keep a secret, and would be great if the other Shard turned out to already be in someone's possession… And maybe, further down the road, she could assist with the hunt for the traitors in Wyllmochvar.

By the time Marth looked up again, the woman was back at the bar. Marth gave it a moment's consideration, then got up from his chair and headed to the counter. His magic-channeling spear was secure on his back, his fine, but stained robes flapping lazily as he walked over. Don't blow it, don't blow it. Oh, I am so going to blow it. He sat down at a stool next to the woman, ordering another cup of gin. After he'd recieved it, he turned his face to her. "You handle that blade well," he said. His own voice, as opposed to Reaver's, was gruff and grizzled. Upon hearing it, Marth felt the echo recede again. He looked down at his cup. "Too well to spend your nights stopping fights in a tavern." He let the implication hang for a moment in the air, and took a swig of his gin.

Author: Dalanesca, Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2016 9:45 AM, Post Subject: Quiet [P][R]

Whatever sort of meade the barkeep had chosen to serve her had a strange flavor to it.  It was quite sweet, but left a strangely bitter aftertaste with hints of cinnamon.  Dalanesca found herself unsure of whether or not she cared for the flavor, but drank the liquid anyway - after a few, she was likely not to care about the taste.  A few minutes passed and she had drained the stone goblet, pushing it toward the barkeep’s side of the surface in indication that she wanted another.  He came by after a moment and grabbed her goblet, giving her a nod and a smile as he refilled it. Returning his smile, she chucked a few silver coins onto the counter, and drew the goblet close once he set it down.  “Thank you,” she said, vocalizing her gratitude.  The barkeep nodded.

“Aye, and thank you the same,” he added.  “You’re makin’ my job a lot easier these days,” he added, giving her another nod and walking away.  She knew what the man was referencing, as she had been inadvertently acting as a security for the man.  It wasn’t that she felt the need to assist him, it was more for the reason that she hated miscreants and unnecessary brawling.  The intimidation factor that she had possessed during her time as an assassin still seemed to exist, and for the most part she was able to get patrons to cease their actions before things got out of hand, and ended things quite quickly if they did happen to get out of hand.

Fortunately, this evening had been quiet - more so than usual.  It had been a long week for her, and she was grateful for the peace and quiet.  Though Myter, the proprietor of the bar and the man serving her this evening, was not paying her for her service, he was providing her with a free room above the tavern.  To her, it was an easy trade.  She still had quite a bit of silver saved up from her past contracts, but the flow in had slowed.  Coin was not as easy to come by, and she rarely found work anymore.  A few mercenary jobs had popped up here and there, but the pay was a few measly silver - nothing even worth blinking an eye at.   Having a place to stay that wasn’t costing her a thing was a blessing.

She took another sip of the strange meade and sloshed it about in her mouth before swallowing once more.  She was on her third glass, and though she couldn’t feel any warmth rising in her cheeks, she most certainly could feel the relaxing effects washing over her.  Within moments, the quiet drone of the many conversations happening around her in the tavern became unnoticeable to her - until a loud voice broke the silence.

In the back, two men were having a very heated discussion which was shortly about to turn ugly.  Dalanesca turned her head to look at the pair, rolling her eyes.  “Can’t even have one quiet night, can we, Myter?  I’ll be back for my meade, don’t dump it!” she called down to the barkeep, who looked at her, disdain on his face.  

“You goin’ to handle this one, Dal?” he asked.  She could hear it in his voice that he was hoping she would, so she nodded and got up, leaving her goblet of meade sitting on the counter.   

“I’ll be back for that!” she yelled to Myter, and headed towards the men in the back.  She reached them shortly, and they seemed to take no notice of her at first.  “Excuse me, gentlemen?” she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness.  When neither of the men responded, she cleared her throat, dropped a dagger from a sheath at her wrist, and stepped forward, slamming the blade into the table between the two men.  “Excuse me,” she said, her voice less sweet and more commanding.  The two men seemed slightly taken aback and looked up at her.  

She leaned in between the men slowly and withdrew the dagger from the table, sliding it back into its sheath.  “You’ll have to forgive me for being so… barbaric,” she began, eyeing both of the men.  “But you see, I’m sitting over at the counter, attempting to have a quiet, event-less evening… and you two…” she paused, trailing off for a moment.  “You two aren’t doing much to help with that,” she said, offering them a forced smile.  The pair looked at her in confusion, as though they were unsure of what to say.

“He’s a conniving prick,” one of the men began, pointing vehemently at the man across the table.  Dalanesca held a hand up in front of the speaker’s face, which caused him to stop talking.  The hilt of her dagger could be seen in her palm, a wrist-flick away from being drawn from its sheath.  

“You’re both going to stop, and now,” she said, abruptly.  “If you don’t, I will make you stop.”  She looked from one man to another, and they seemed more confused than anything.  When they didn’t say anything, she lowered her hand.  “I am assuming that your silence indicates your understanding.  I am going to take my leave now, and I will be watching,” she threatened.  She took a few steps backwards from the men before turning around and heading back to the bar.  Myter gave her a nod of thanks as she sat down, and she picked up her goblet, taking a long drink from it and sighing.  Though she couldn’t see the men any longer - whom she had left with a look of utmost confusion on their faces - she knew she would be able to hear if something else were to happen.