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Post by Mila on May 16, 2015 11:54:27 GMT -6
Taras
Mila was home for the first time in years. The mage had been sending letters to the complex throughout her travels abroad. And they had been expecting her. Her family had given her a grand welcome back home through their usual antics. But her time here would be short. There had been word that Eturia would soon be heading out to war against Sacae. And Mila wanted no part of the prophet’s quest for power. She hoped her extended family would do the same but it had become increasingly apparent that they may not have that choice. The prophet’s army had already made motions to hire out a small fraction of the mercenary company. They were either to comply or lose the rights to the land and buildings they called home. The mage sighed.
Fortunately the invasion wasn’t for another few weeks, at least according to their sources. It gave the mage enough time to do out one last job for them before things with Sacae got out of hand. She grabbed a small corner of the pub to herself. Laid out in front of her were papers and books. Her professional work of monster hunting and research scattered about in neat little piles. Her green eyes lit with the fires of both her passion and the glow of the fire place nearby. Her tasks today were simple. Leave a small journal of monster hunting tips for the guild and compile her notes on the new job, hunting doogs. Maybe this time it will be successful.
Even though it was home, the guild still acted as a pub. And all manner of people were piling in and out of the pub doors ordering food and drink. The atmosphere was as warm and inviting as it had ever been.
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Post by Vincent on May 17, 2015 9:36:52 GMT -6
Vincent could not believe he would be heading back through Etruria so soon; he must have been mentally unsound, mentally unsound but happy. Taras was the town and one he’d passed through once before, when he first went to Illia. Back then he had no maps and was so lost he found himself in Bern before getting back on track. He smiled thinking about that mishap.
No wanted posters seemed to be around here so that was good for him. It was further south that the lord died after all. He decided to enjoy his time in the area before heading back out and made his way to the local Pub for some food. He kept to his rule about drinks even now.
Pushing the door ajar he was met with warmth and the smell of food and drinks. A bard was in the area and there was music as well. He was not very good at his craft but the people sure did not care, they crowded around him and listened, some even dancing. Most that is.
A figure caught his eye like a bolt of lightning in a night sky; he was in near disbelief, how tiny the world was. It was a green haired woman sitting off from the crowd with a pile of papers and her nose so far into them it was a miracle that it didn’t tear through the other side. He grinned and headed to the barkeep. “Give me two hot bowls of whatever you’ve got and two ciders.” Vincent handed over the coins and leaned against the bar. It was an odd relationship he had with the woman indeed, not one of infatuation but neither friend nor acquaintance either but he still had a bond. A bond he shared with many others, including what he had not realized he had with her brother as well.
When his order was readied he carried it all in delicate balance over to her table. Setting everything down, he helped himself to a seat. He had no idea how she’d react but frankly he did not care, it was always good to see someone you know on the road. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you? I brought your order.” He pushed a bowl and one of the glasses over with a grin like he thought he was oh so clever.
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Post by Mila on May 17, 2015 12:13:54 GMT -6
There were three seats at the mage's table. The seat next to the mage was occupied by her bag, cloak, and boots. Mila was just left in her dark pants and light top. The mage's bare feet dangled a few feet above the floor. The girls got a hold of her after her wash and managed to do up her hair. A fancy braid that dangled behind her. But a few curly strands managed to escape the confines of the braid and fall down her face. The chair in front of her was empty.
She didn't bother pulling her eyes away from the pages when someone approached her asking for the seat. The mage had been dismissing potential suitors all day. So when a voice came to ask to join her she already had a default response.
"Whatever it is i'm not inter.." The voice talking to her sounded oddly familiar. The mage lifted her face from her books noticed it was Vincent.
"Ested? Oh. OH! Hey! Innocent guy. Wait, no... uh.. Vincent! Vincent. Hey how's it going?" Her voice perked up. Part of her was surprised to see him here, the prison break seemed to have happened ages ago. The other part of her felt like was a normal occurrence. This was a pub after all and Taras was a busy place. She noticed the light haired mercenary had plates of food with him. Quickly, she pulled away her papers so as to give him room to set down the food.
"No, go right ahead." She smiled softly. It was nice to see him.
"I see you grabbed some of our house soup. It's good. Seasoned with fresh herbs from the garden." Mila remembered she had gathered a good chunk of herbs this morning for the daily stew.
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Post by Vincent on May 19, 2015 4:44:09 GMT -6
Vincent’s eyes had a subtle but distinct perk as she said ‘our soup,’ how did she mean? “You live around here then? Or is this pub your natural home?” This was of course the only natural course of conversation after all the recent events. Vincent set about the bowl like a starved man, but he still retained caution and ‘manners.’ He blew on it lightly before tasting and only then did he decide to add anything else to it. “So, you look like you’re doing well for yourself. Glad to see you in one piece at the very least. No scars or anything?” Oh the small talk of a mercenary. Vincent had had so little of it he was no wordsmith and an even worse gentleman. A noble heart did not equate. The scars Vincent had gained over his career told a story of all his triumphs and failings. They slowly changed him from the youthful ponytailed pretty boy he was into the man he is now. Not ugly, but certainly not as pretty either. The stew was indeed good, every mouthful added new meats and vegetables to the dance of flavors. Compared to the Siege rations he was on flavor overload. It was soon devoured and a full glass was his reward. He had yet to mention how everything had played out for him since the break but it may be more appropriate to keep the focus on Mila until she herself asked. After all it was clear he’d survived his ordeals until now so why say more. Leaning back satisfied there was a very different air about the boy. The last they met he was angry, scarred, and lost. Now he was a veteran and happily living with a new goal. He had an important question for her but it would have to wait until later. In the meantime he asked about a minor curiosity, “So, what were you not interested in?”
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Post by Mila on May 19, 2015 6:10:45 GMT -6
"Hm? Oh, heh yeah I should explain. You're right about both. Natural home and living here. More like raised here. Taras is my home only because this pub is in it. This place doubles as a mercenary guild." She took a few spoonfuls of soup. She was careful to spoon away most of the tiny meaty bits.
"I was raised by the guild members. So they are essentially family. No blood relation, but that doesn't matter here. Family is family." There was a smile to her face as she spoke about her relatives. The memories of growing up in a place filled her head. It just felt good to be home.
She finished her soup with most of the meat left behind in the bowl and offered it to Vincent.
"Take the meaty bits. Don't want it to go to waste." She paused for a moment reflecting back on the jail break. It wasn't her best showing of magic and they could have all died if not for Near showing up. So while she didn't have any physical scars to speak of she did carry mental ones.
"Sorry, about the messy prison break Vincent. But hey your here. Guess that means things went.. Uh.. well. You aren't dead, maimed, or in prison th-those are positives." She had some hesitation in those last few words. Vincent didn't look like the type to hold a grudge, but she knew looks can be deceiving.
"The not interested bit." She sighed.
"I've been kicking out drunken customers who have been hitting on me all day. That Kinda became my default response. But your good to stay and chat. You are a friend." She took a sip of cider. Who bought me food.She had forgotten the cider was hot and it semi-scalded her tounge. She pulled the hot mug from her lips.
"Ah..forgot it's hot!" She quickly fanned her mouth. It was amusing to watch.
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Post by Vincent on May 20, 2015 5:15:49 GMT -6
“You’re a mercenary?” He could not decide if it was her intelligence and attitude or her cleaner and feminine looks but she had not struck him as such. This could be in part due to the fact she was a mage? Mages had a necessity to be educated; else their tomes would be a waste. “Family is family,” to those words Vincent nodded approvingly adding, “Now I can drink to that,” and whether the mage accepted his toast or not he very well did. The conversation took a momentary pause as Mila offered the remnants of her stew to Vincent, which he accepted. Suddenly the talks went back to prison; the woman seemed to have a weight on her mind about that day still. Regrets at how poorly it was executed. In Vincent’s eyes the girl was asking for HIS forgiveness for going out on her own and helping a stranger at incredible risk to herself. Vincent did not react much but his eyes took a much more serious sheen to them. His eyebrows lowered slightly and he looked her square in the eyes. “Let’s not worry about back then anymore. You saved my hide and I cannot thank you enough for it. It was an impromptu effort and we all made it out unharmed. Thanks to you I was able to deal with the real villain.” As proof of this he drew Phoenix Heart from its sheath, the pure black blade had the golden writing etched into its length with a momentary blue wispy light before the runes simply glowed. “So long as no one else can use this for evil, being a wanted man is just fine with me. Besides,” He shrugged, his face becoming more serene and playful, “I have a home in Hero City now. It’s modest and going to be empty for a while but… it’s a place I can call my own.” He returned the blade to its holding and smiled. As she burned her tongue any preconceived notions about her being a refined and elegant figure were rather quickly dashed. The corner of his mouth quivered and he had to turn his head. It was all he had to not laugh at her in her face. He quickly cleared his throat. “So… I’m sorry, are you alright? Would you rather milk? It goes well after a burn.” He was both teasing and making an offer. After the matter of her scald was settled he continued, “So, I realize neither of us knows much about each other so I’d like to open the floor to some questions? I’ll start us off of course and you can ask me anything you’d like. I’m a mercenary, I was born in Lycia but I really made myself in Illia.” He paused for a moment, he knew there was likely a lot to learn and go over but he relented and decided to offer the framework that she would want to know. Beyond that, any specifics, she can ask. “Those uh, white feathers wanted to recruit me back then, so they could use me but I refused their initial offer. In turn they killed my friend and partner. I swore revenge but then you saw what they did in the lord’s palace.” His eyes turned downward to his empty bowl. Near… what a man that was. “I decided to learn the ways of assassins from Near then. He was… an interesting mentor but it helped. Anyway, he helped me stop the Feathers and I got the sword back. I followed some leads to find an old friend but he had turned into a bandit lieutenant. I followed him all the way to The Siege.” It felt like it was only a short week ago, the memory was still so fresh. “I don’t know if he made it or not but a lot happened there. After, I decided I want to get stronger than I am now. There were so many incredible people there and the likes of Hargus, Kenshin, Richter, Elias the Red.” He was smiling a smile of adoration. “They were all so human. But to the other fighters they were like gods on the battlefield.” He realized he was going on a tangent and knew he needed to bring the conversation back on track. “Er, well anyway, I decided I would take a journey, I don’t know what just yet but, I need to be stronger. I need to fight on par with them. Being a bag of tricks and resourceful is not going to be enough anymore.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes as though meditating on his own words before nodding. “And so I’ve taken to traveling. Here I am at this fine establishment and in company I could only pray to ever have the blessing of taking solace in ever again.”
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Post by Mila on May 20, 2015 6:23:21 GMT -6
Mila put the mug of hot cider down on the table and stated at it for a moment. As if upset that the steamy contents burned her tounge instead of her remembering to take the needed precautions.
"My mouth will live. No milk needed." She muttered.
Vincent drew Phoenix heart from his sheath and Mila looked up at the blade. There weree stars in her eyes and a slight look of awe. To her magical weapons were very high on the cool factor. This was the second time the mage had encountered a magical weapon, the first being Xigshaw. If she could she wouI'd have grabbed the weapon and began examining it right away, wondering how it ticked. She could tell by the runes and the color it was enfused with a fire spirit. Perhaps? And with something foreign. Something not usually seen in blades, like a rare ore.
"I'm glad you got that back. And relieved to hear the leader is dead." She lifted up her mug, blew on it a bit, before taking a celebratory sip.
"It's a splendid weapon. I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say meteor? Possibly? Black ore is a rarity." She shook her head.
"You were at the City of Hero's? Oh man, you've got to give me some more details! I heard there was a cyclop and monsters everywhere." She paused realizing what she said.
"Er... Wow. Sorry that was a little insensitive. I know most people would want to forget Hargus raid." She sighed softly.
"I'm a mercenary and a researcher. One job feeds the pocket the other feeds the soul." She smiled softly.
"One day I want to compile my research into books and gain recognition. Also want to make easy read variety for more common folk so they know what to do during a monster attack and probably save a few lives. There are times where people just can't rely on hired muscle or nobles and those folks are forced to run or die." She shook her head again. Her hand resting on her pages. Someday.
"Oh I've met Elias the Crimson mage. Nicknamed him Red. He named me turtle. Fun times. Uhm.. oh. Take care as to how you mention Ritcher and Kenshin around here. Some folk really want them dead after the prophets failed raid." She leaned in and whisphered that last part. Then she returned to her chair as if nothing happened.
"Wanting to get stronger is a noble goal. The guild wants me to handle a job involving Doogs. This is going to be my last job with them before I head back out on the road. Uhm, I could use the extra hand if you got the time."
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Post by Vincent on May 20, 2015 7:22:05 GMT -6
As Mila celebrated the end of the Feather’s leader Vincent’s eyes flickered with remorse. By the end he hadn’t wanted to see the man dead. He wanted justice and for him to properly be laid bare for his crimes. Alas, that was not to be. Was it for his chance to clear his name or his own ideals? Both perhaps but it was a bittersweet taste.
Mila perfectly identified the metal used in forging his sword. Of course Vincent himself had no idea of its origins, not even the blade’s spirit would offer that to him. “Meteor? As in rocks from the sky?” It sounded incredible and made it far more valuable, tantalizing even.
Her enthusiasm would have been infectious for listeners but not for the first hand accounts. Vincent cupped his chin with a finger and thumb thinking a moment on that battle. He remembered the Cyclops alright. The blasted thing was a terror. Had he really taken out its leg? Looking back it was such an idiotic thing to have done. The entire strategy had changed based on his rootless boast. It all worked out, sure, but he certainly did not take it clean off as he promised.
“No, no it’s perfectly alright,” her apology was appreciated but unnecessary. The fact she was a researcher of these things was all that mattered now. He ignored the issue of Richter and Kenshin for the time being and decided to focus on her offer and her research. “I would love to accompany you. The more of those, things, that are dealt with, the better. In return though, I ask no part of the monetary reward, I’ll tell you all about the siege and what I saw, and you will help me get some knowledge out to the world.” From his pack Mila could see the dark bindings of a dark tome before he produced a small leather bound journal. “Inside is an account of the histories and oral traditions of many of Sacae’s tribes.” He offered it to her for her to see it better. “It’s not my work but the final will of a friend.”
As she did what she will with the book he began to recount the siege. “It was a week of hell.” Such a blunt statement, “But the final day was when hell truly showed itself.” His mind raced as he thought of everything. It was all so much so quickly. The gargoyles, the Cyclops, and… the OTHER things. He suddenly remembered the dagger a Sacaean gave him as thanks for pulling him off the battlefield. “Speaking of the monsters, here.” He slid a dagger fashioned from the tusk of a gargoyle over to Mila, the blade was white like ivory but stronger and the hilt was wrapped in the traditional style of Sacae.
“I’m a bit scatterbrained, so I apologize. There’s just a lot to cover. So, there were what you could call ‘basic’ monsters but the Cyclops was anything but. It towered over everything, even buildings. I saw it clear across the battlefield. It’s skin is thick and its limbs are like tree trunks. Even a silver weapon has difficulty even cutting it.” He produced the remains of his lancereaver. The silver shards and the handle were separated. “It uh, swatted it with its arm.”
He reflected on it further. “It’s eye is weak but be careful. Attacking it there will not kill it easily, and it will just go berserk.” He sighed. “That thing was just TOO strong. We eventually toppled it by mangling its legs and the wyvern riders pelting its head. Even then it took the efforts of that Oya and his axe as well as Elias enhancing those with silver blades just to cut it.” He decided not to talk about his part in that and leave the heroics to the general population. If she managed to deduce his part he wouldn’t deny it. Be impressed at her reasoning, but not deny it.
“Let’s see. It fell and started flailing about. I almost got crushed at that point. Blasted devil. In the end it was The Winter Lion and his axe that ended it. He hit the eye with an impressive throw and the magic exploded out killing it.” He chuckled hollowly. “People need more magic bows. That would have made things infinitely simpler, I swear. Anyway, it did not end there. Hargus brought out uh… I don’t know really, I think the term going around before I left was Arums.”
He looked down as his face suddenly grew paler. He rubbed his left arm in silence clearly reluctant to speak of these but he hardened himself. “There were only five or so but they changed everything. They are darkness within darkness, like living nether. Demons in the true sense of the word. They emanated dread like an aura and when they focus on you, you hear these, these whispers like… like they know your every being. That was when,” he cleared his throat and took a drink. “That was when Burt, the owner of that journal saved me and damned himself. Ri- The Winter Lion, carried something evil with him and Burt used it to slay every Arum there.” His eyes narrowed. The nether consumed him then and he became something not even Hargus was prepared for.” He rubbed his hands down his face and eyes for a moment.
“He’s why I have to get stronger. His physical strength manifested tenfold at least and he gained power over the nether. He released it in sorts of bursts. Bursts that threaten to rend a man’s soul apart. I managed to stab and run him through but the nether created a sort of barrier around the flesh. Once past that it mattered little as his resiliency to defeat was, just,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. Anyway, I took a blast from him after that and I passed out. I was later told he escaped but he dropped that journal. He was a friend and I intend to see his legacy fulfilled. I WILL be the one to end him.” He exhaled. That was a mouthful and his legs were shaking even as he sat.
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Post by Mila on May 20, 2015 11:12:30 GMT -6
“Maybe, a Meteor. I can’t really tell from here unless I get a sample and an alchemy desk to look at it. I’m just guessing based on what I’ve read.” She shrugged.
She took a sip of her mug as Vincent started talking about the job. Mila was happy he had accepted though she could make no guarantees on the whole no monetary reward. The guild firmly believes in paying its workers for their efforts even if they do not want it. The mage took the book for a moment and glanced over it’s pages. She would have liked to make a copy of it for herself to read. She would have to ask him later. Then Vincent started talking about the City of Heros. Mila nearly choked on some cider, she wasn’t expecting him to go into details now. She put the mug down and quickly grabbed her journal. The journal she had sitting under a small doll made in the image of her brother. She grabbed a pencil she had wedged in between her journal pages and began writing.
While Vincent was describing things she was scribbling away important details of monsters. The Cyclops especially. She wrote how it was huge, thick skinned, strong, and how it took the strength of several men to fell it. She could only imagine the horror of the situation, coming face to face with such a creature. She jotted down notes on how the defenders of the city maimed its legs to knock it down. She made careful notes about it’s eye. As attacking it would leave the creature blinded but also furious. A metaphor about dealing with cornered animals popped into her head.
There was a note about magic could have made things easier. And that even silver weapons with their properties couldn’t dent the massive hulk of monster that was the Cyclops with out help. Perhaps a magic infused silver weapon. She wrote down the names of important people, Kenshin, Ritcher, Burt, Oya, Elias. Two of whom she had met prior. Oya and Elias. She quietly thought to herself.
Her fingers flipped the page to a new blank sheet of paper. Here she wrote about the Arums. She had never heard of these things before. But from what Vincent described, these Arums appeared to be similar to demons. Essentially, humans who have been overtaken by the darkness or greed in their souls and made corrupt. Or of those who made deals with forces that are beyond them and turned impure. To be fair she had only read of these creatures and dismissed them as myths. She used to dismiss monsters as myths too until they started to show up. Nether. She wrote that word in capitals. She knew of the nether. It is that entity that shamans use to channel their magic with. Briefly her mind thought of Drei and of her deceased “uncle”.
When Vincent finished talking she didn’t say a word. Instead she continued to write and slowly observe his reactions. She knew he had been through quite the ordeal. But she was curious to know more. No. Mila calm down. He had said enough.
“I.. am sorry for your friend. Terribly sorry you had to go through such a thing.” Her voice was soft and sincere. She couldn’t really say much. By the time she realized it she had filled out a few pages on notes and details about Vincent’s encounter in the City of Hero’s. She then moved on to making a rough sketch of the Cyclops for her own record and amusement. Based on his description and a little imagination she managed to make a decent sketch of what she perceived to be the Cyclops.
“Am.. am I missing any details with this?” She casually asked showing him the rough sketch. She let him observe the drawing as well as any other thing inside her monster journal he fancied to look at. She then took her time examining the dagger made from gargoyle bone. Fascinating. Then towards the book. The book was full of various lore and written beautifully. Whoever Burt was before his transformation had earned her scholarly respect.
“Vincent I want to help you. I do not think there is a cure for his transformation. But.. I want to help you end your friend’s suffering. You get to land the final blow but you won’t do it alone. I want to be there as your support.” She spoke with some passion in her voice. She tried to keep eye contact with Vincent but it was hard with a new book in her hand.
“If and when you plan to run into him... When you are stronger, wiser, faster… You come contact the guild here. They know how to get a hold of me. And I’ll come to your aid. Same goes for any other monster related thing. Or.. Request in general.” She hoped that didn't sound cheesy.
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Post by Vincent on May 21, 2015 4:41:27 GMT -6
He realized he took her off guard as he started so suddenly but he needn’t stop himself as she was able to keep pace quite well. Her apology was sympathetic and took him off guard. He had not thought about it much and spoke without expecting that reaction. Of course it was the natural response for any sane person, but it had been sometime since he’d met any.
Vincent found himself staring for a moment as Mila went about finishing her interpretation of the monster. After a moment too long he looked down at it himself. “Let’s see… it was a bit uglier I think,” he smirked attempting to make a joke. “Although, a minor detail, but the skin was noticeably coarse and far from smooth.”
You get the final blow. Vincent closed his eyes. No, he did not WANT it, nor did he NEED it. He just had to resign himself to be the one to do it. He opened his eyes again and the two locked gazes. He always had allies if he came to the guild in Taras. That was good. “Thanks. Hopefully I will be done training by winter. I want to spend a good seven months or so at it. Erm, why do you want to be there though?” Could it have been an in the moment declaration? It would make sense as a monster hunter but the passion with which she spoke gave him the sense that it went a little deeper than all of that.
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Post by Mila on May 21, 2015 5:58:22 GMT -6
Mila set aside the book of lore and grabbed her journal again. She began drawing some thicker skin for the giant. She did not understand Vincent question. Why was it even as question. Vincent was a friend, comrade, ally, that alone should have been enough of an answer. Perhaps it wasn't obvious yet. Mila had a few friends in this world. Sure she had met tons of people, but only a handful actually got a chance to sit down and talk to her. And those folks well she wanted to protect them.
"Because your a friend. I don't have too many of those. I look out for my friends." She replied a bit somberly. There was the added benefit of witnessing the Arum in action, but it was mostly to protect Vincent.
"Right?" She questioned.
"Plus these arms.. arows.. dang it. Arums sound pretty dangerous. Next time you meet Burt he might not be alone." She returned to her doodle. The mage wasn't sure what to add. It was hard sketching something she had not yet seen.
"Seven months.. alright. Hopefully things in Eturia die down by then. You hear talk and whispers there country is going to war. Might be hard to come here when that happens. Personally I will be riding out this invasion elsewhere. Perhaps Sacae. Or Lycia. But letters should still work. If there is a will there is a way. These guys will find me." She lifted her arms up to show off various workers of the pub.
"Ooh... Speaking of which. I should probably talk about the job at hand. So we've got reports of Doog attacks in the wilds of Sacae. Thing is they aren't like traditional attacks and reports are conflicting. Some say it's one big doog others say it's a pack of them." She flipped over to the journal her notes on Mauthe Doogs and their larger cousins, Gyliwigs(?). Those pages are full o of notes and accurate representation of the monster in question. She showed it to Vincent.
"Judging from the sketches of tracks, I think it's one Glywilg(?) and its Doog brethren acting as one pack. But I cannot be certain unless I see evidence with my own eyes. Most folk cant tell the difference between wolf and Doog until it's too late." She tried to think of anything else.
"I'm going to post up a flyer and see who else is going to join us."
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Post by Vincent on May 22, 2015 3:05:45 GMT -6
Clover said it, she called them friends. Vincent’s mouth opened slightly as though he were to say something but no words came out. What quantified anyone he knew as a friend anymore? Ash and Neil were once friends and he killed Neil while Ash tried to kill him, he called Burt friend, and now he is a rampaging monster. Near was a complicated thing but he’d say more that he was a mentor, and Edrick, though the two became closer during the siege, would eventually come into conflict if Etrurian hostilities did not subside. Could he really call her, a woman he hardly knew, a friend? Well, she believed him one, so perhaps he could do her the same kindness. “Right,” he smiled.
He might not be alone? He never considered the possibility. From what he knew it was a happening born of a magic blade absorbing the Arums. Could there truly be more? Could Burt be giving form to more like him? The idea made the hairs of his neck crawl and he shuddered.
“If Etruria is really intent on going to war I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand by idly. Then again, I’ve only ever fought bandits and friendly duels. A trained army is well beyond me.” Thus, even more reason to begin training to refine his techniques. He had too many possible methods of combat and no applicable uses. “Still, I’ll be heading South from Illia then.” He was ashamed to admit it but writing a letter was well beyond his ability. “But I, uh, I cannot read or write so I may have to get word to you by word of mouth.” He knew she wanted out of the war but inside he suspected Burt would be drawn to the fields like a moth to the flame.
The details of the job sounded like an easy paycheck. No, he could not afford to get cocky or ahead of himself but after the siege this seemed doable. “Well, I’ve never fought the likes of these but if they are the size of wolves then this should be manageable. My lancereaver is still broken but Phoenix Heart has a silver core. How many people do you think we will need for this job? 4-5 of us?” It seemed like a lot but there was no telling how big a pack could be.
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Post by Mila on May 23, 2015 19:56:38 GMT -6
"To be honest I'm hoping for at least 4 people altogether. Mauthe Doogs are the size of wolves and twice as fast. They like to bite and claw their way at limbs to cripple a target. Or go straight for the throat and kill a man or horse. They love taking down horses. That's like food for the whole pack." She shuffled through a few papers eventually pulling out a blank sheet.
"Anyway, Gwyllgi are bigger, badder, faster. They have three heads. That's two extra mouths. Blocking one set of teeth is hard enough, add two more you are bound to get bit. Their backs and tails are covered in hard spines. The tails are as long as about half their bodies and use it for balance and defense. The spikes are blunt but they hurt. You will feel it if they hit you." She spoke casually. Mila was perfectly comfortable talking about all manner of monster.
"I've seen the corpses that these things left behind. They tear flesh to shreds. Armor is decent against them but so help you gods if they figure out where the chinks are. They are also intelligent. Usually guiding the other Doog's in the pack. They like to ambush. They know to target any weak points a person may have. For example if you are recovering from an injury in your hand, they will try to target that." She slowly started to scribble away at a blank piece of paper. Slowly making out the outline for her flyer.
"I cannot stress how quick these things are. All they need is one hit and they will overwhelm some of the most skilled opponents. I'm hoping we can recruit an archer who could launch arrows while you and another engage them head on." She sighed.
"I hope that they aren't too far into the drier area's of Sacae, otherwise my fire will cause an even larger fire. You and I are witness to what happens to large uncontrollable fires." She grinned sheepishly. She kept writing and then eventually drawing a decent image of a doog on the bottom.
"Oh don't worry about the literacy. Word of mouth works just as well. Just tell them you are looking for Mila. It'll get to me eventually. Right then. Flyer's done. I'm going to go hang it up." She got up off of her seat and took a half step forward. Mila had an annoyed expression on her face as she sighed. She then returned back to her seat and grabbed her boots from the chair beside her. She accidentally knocked over the paperweight doll of her brother. The mage picked it back up and dusted it off. She pouted slightly as she put her boots back on then got back up again. Mila walked over to the main desk and grabbed a pin to hang up the flyer on the bulletin board.
Mila returned to the chair and finished off the rest of her cider.
"So now we wait. I plan for us to head out in two days. Gives us enough time to prepare. Hopefully the weather is good. Last time I tried to organize a Doog hunt the weather was so bad we couldn't even get anywhere."
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Post by Vincent on May 24, 2015 7:16:28 GMT -6
"A three headed wolf?" That was exactly what they needed, how many of these creatures would be corruptions of normal beasts. "Hey, I'm curious, do you know where these things originated from? I've noticed that they are all corruptions of normal things, mostly. But monster wolves now, Baels in the past, and even the cyclops and revenants were like people. Some, raised by the dead truthfully. Are these connections common?"
"An archer or more mages would be good. Any help really." These things were always very strong and an archer to pin the beasts would be good, since historically they would keep going beyond a normally fatal wound. As for that fire comment, "No, no I don't think anyone wants a repeat of that one. Again, I thank you for your aid that day but that is a thing best left behind us."
Word of mouth is fine? Just how big was this guild of hers... wait, ask for Mila? "Ah, so that is your actual name, Clover." A hint of smugness was in that statement but all in good nature. He stood with her and noticed the doll. It looked oddly familiar but he could not place it. Maybe it was his imagination.
He gazed on at the poster in its finalized glory, it was rough and yet very well done and detailed in its own right. "Well, I think I now know to be completely terrified of that thing. Now, two days. That is some considerable downtime. Think you could show me around the town? I don't know what there is to do around here and honestly I'd be interested in getting to know you a bit better."
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Post by Mila on May 24, 2015 21:19:12 GMT -6
"Oh?" She was surprised at first. But then she was smiling and lightly giggling. Vincent still called her Clover. Well it made sense at the time back in the prison break she didn't really introduce herself. She choose her pseudonym in order to avoid any association Vincent may have had with the Assassins she had broken him out of prison for.
"Well secrets out. Hi, I'm Mila and it's nice to re-meet you Vincent." She spoke that with a bit of a sarcastic tone as she shook his hand.
"And I mean yeah word of mouth is fine as long as it gets to one of the workers in the pub. Or just have someone else write a message. Messenger buildings and post office offer that service for a small fee." She shrugged.
"As for the monsters all being connected. There is a working theory that may be the case. But then again there are incidents where the monsters are so perfectly suited to their own environments. I've been told rumors of a forest full of baels that are happy being in the forest. Ice baels that are at home in the mountains. These wolves seem to be perfectly suited to their own environment too. It means they have a natural instinct of some sort. They hunt for food, breed, and seem to follow patterns in according the seasons. Though they may have spawned from unnatural means..." She shook her head.
"I'm sorry. I can't properly answer that. I think.. some are following other orders though. From something that is outside the realm of nature. Like the living dead for example. And that cyclops was under Hargus' control." She scratched her head. Mila. Stop. STOP.
"I.. ok. I need to stop talking about monsters. Otherwise I'll be here all day.. and all night. And probably a good part of tomorrow too." She started to gather her things.
"Show you around town? That's going to be difficult since i'm pretty much a stranger in a familiar land. I haven't been home.. er here in years. I've got no idea what's been changed or where anything is anymore. But I can give you a tour of the facility. We've got a great training area. From what "uncle" Louie has told me. This place got bigger. There's a farm in the back that we didn't have before. And better rooms. You won't have to worry about paying for the rooms since your with me." She paused for a moment before realizing what she had said.
"I mean, since you know me. And you are going on the job. Right.. I'll sort out the paper work with the family later." She put her index finger to her chin tapping it gently. Thinking on what to do next.
"Ah. The old bakery is still around. I saw it on the way back home. If memory serves they make some great apple turnovers." She grinned. Mila was a sucker for good deserts.
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