This is a fun little energizer RP to get some creative juices flowing!
Feel free to add as you please. I have a rough idea for what is causing everything but other than that, its very flexible where this will end up! Everyone having lots of fun is my primary goal đ
Time: 9am
CALL FOR HEROES (humans or other)
The town square, once the heart of trade and laughter, now stood fractured and weary beneath a dull, overcast sky. Cobbled stones were cracked and uneven, some still stained with soot and something darker that no amount of scrubbing had managed to erase. Splintered market stalls leaned crookedly against one another, their colourful fabrics now torn and dulled by ash and time.
At the centre, a once-grand fountain had fallen silentâits carved stone chipped and broken, the statue at its heart missing an arm, as though even it had tried to flee whatever curse lingered over the town. Smoke curled faintly from the remains of nearby buildings, and hastily boarded windows lined the square like watchful, fearful eyes.
Despite it all, people had gathered.
Ayla shyly held a sign in the middle of the square. She was shaking from nervousness- though shockingly enough, not from the state of the square. She was introverted... and she was well aware people were staring at her. It read:
CALL FOR ABLE BODIES â PROVE YOURSELF. DEFEND THE TOWN.
Whatever plagued this place had not been driven off. And now, the town was done waiting to be saved.
A loud crack echoed as one of the guards struck the butt of his spear against the cobblestones, silencing the restless crowd.
âListen well,â he called, voice rough from overuse. âThis is no glory hunt. What waits beyond these walls has torn through men twice your size and twice your skill. You step forward today, you do so knowing you may not return."
A pause. A scan of the crowd.
âBut first, you must prove your strength. Prove your wit. Prove your worthiness... a set of tests. Who's up for the challenge?"
He patted the little silver haired girl on the head who looked like she shrunk a little more. Ayla was like a niece to this guard and although not a child anymore, he knew how shy she could be.
Feel free to add as you please. I have a rough idea for what is causing everything but other than that, its very flexible where this will end up! Everyone having lots of fun is my primary goal đ
Time: 9am
CALL FOR HEROES (humans or other)
The town square, once the heart of trade and laughter, now stood fractured and weary beneath a dull, overcast sky. Cobbled stones were cracked and uneven, some still stained with soot and something darker that no amount of scrubbing had managed to erase. Splintered market stalls leaned crookedly against one another, their colourful fabrics now torn and dulled by ash and time.
At the centre, a once-grand fountain had fallen silentâits carved stone chipped and broken, the statue at its heart missing an arm, as though even it had tried to flee whatever curse lingered over the town. Smoke curled faintly from the remains of nearby buildings, and hastily boarded windows lined the square like watchful, fearful eyes.
Despite it all, people had gathered.
Ayla shyly held a sign in the middle of the square. She was shaking from nervousness- though shockingly enough, not from the state of the square. She was introverted... and she was well aware people were staring at her. It read:
CALL FOR ABLE BODIES â PROVE YOURSELF. DEFEND THE TOWN.
Whatever plagued this place had not been driven off. And now, the town was done waiting to be saved.
A loud crack echoed as one of the guards struck the butt of his spear against the cobblestones, silencing the restless crowd.
âListen well,â he called, voice rough from overuse. âThis is no glory hunt. What waits beyond these walls has torn through men twice your size and twice your skill. You step forward today, you do so knowing you may not return."
A pause. A scan of the crowd.
âBut first, you must prove your strength. Prove your wit. Prove your worthiness... a set of tests. Who's up for the challenge?"
He patted the little silver haired girl on the head who looked like she shrunk a little more. Ayla was like a niece to this guard and although not a child anymore, he knew how shy she could be.
Against the cobblestone street some distance away, a horse's hooves clopped steadily as it approached the square.
His nostrils were stung by the smell of smoke, and more than once he had to step over debris from some collapsed market stall or house. He'd arrived at the town earlier that morning and had spent a while investigating the destruction. He gathered that this was a result of not just one attack, but many over the course of a somewhat lengthy period of time. It didn't occur to him as odd that aid to the town had not yet arrived--these days, messengers sent for help could easily go missing on the journey... if even they could get past the surrounding dangers that seemed to have made themselves at home not far outside the walls.
Sharp green eyes peered at the crowd from under a brown cowl, and as he came close he towered above them. He carried a poleaxe in one hand as he walked and the edges of his gray caparison were stained with day-old blood. Several people at the outskirts of the gathering turned at his approach, and upon seeing him shied away, being less than used to the presence of his kind.
Theophilus had caught the last bit of what the seasoned guard was shouting to the people. Standing at the back, he read the sign that a small, silver-haired girl with large blue eyes uncomfortably held up. His persistent frown deepened, but he waited, tail flicking, as the silence among the people persisted.
A few moments went by, then the centaur finally spoke: "Seems to me you're in rather desperate need of arms," he began, his melodic bass voice carrying over the crowd easily, "thus, it may be wise for you to receive every breathing body willing to throw his life away, rather than only those who impress you." His tone was clear and matter-of-fact, his eyes now upon the guard who had spoken.
His nostrils were stung by the smell of smoke, and more than once he had to step over debris from some collapsed market stall or house. He'd arrived at the town earlier that morning and had spent a while investigating the destruction. He gathered that this was a result of not just one attack, but many over the course of a somewhat lengthy period of time. It didn't occur to him as odd that aid to the town had not yet arrived--these days, messengers sent for help could easily go missing on the journey... if even they could get past the surrounding dangers that seemed to have made themselves at home not far outside the walls.
Sharp green eyes peered at the crowd from under a brown cowl, and as he came close he towered above them. He carried a poleaxe in one hand as he walked and the edges of his gray caparison were stained with day-old blood. Several people at the outskirts of the gathering turned at his approach, and upon seeing him shied away, being less than used to the presence of his kind.
Theophilus had caught the last bit of what the seasoned guard was shouting to the people. Standing at the back, he read the sign that a small, silver-haired girl with large blue eyes uncomfortably held up. His persistent frown deepened, but he waited, tail flicking, as the silence among the people persisted.
A few moments went by, then the centaur finally spoke: "Seems to me you're in rather desperate need of arms," he began, his melodic bass voice carrying over the crowd easily, "thus, it may be wise for you to receive every breathing body willing to throw his life away, rather than only those who impress you." His tone was clear and matter-of-fact, his eyes now upon the guard who had spoken.
The guard looked mildly ticked off as he watched the centaur.
This town had been under strict rule since the last king took over. Who was this man who challenged their ways?
"And who exactly are you, centaur?"
He asked, standing firmly and strong.
Ayla looked between them, before adding quietly
"Please help us, sir... beasts have been attacking this town of late. It appears as if life has been tainted as animals have turned on their owners & creatures of all types have targetted this town..."
She took a step back, realizing just how big he was "the last heroes who were sent were met with an unfortunate death... a sickness that had made them, too, start attacking allies and friends..." before quickly adding "n-not that that will happen to you!"
This town had been under strict rule since the last king took over. Who was this man who challenged their ways?
"And who exactly are you, centaur?"
He asked, standing firmly and strong.
Ayla looked between them, before adding quietly
"Please help us, sir... beasts have been attacking this town of late. It appears as if life has been tainted as animals have turned on their owners & creatures of all types have targetted this town..."
She took a step back, realizing just how big he was "the last heroes who were sent were met with an unfortunate death... a sickness that had made them, too, start attacking allies and friends..." before quickly adding "n-not that that will happen to you!"
As he walked forward, large hooves clopping, people made way for him so that their feet wouldn't be trodden over. Soon, he was standing in front of the guard and the girl.
"I am Theophilus," he replied simply, unperturbed by the man's peeved tone and stance, although in his own there was the faintest hint of defensiveness when he stated the name--for it had no surname to go with it, thus no honor or dignity. Then, the centaur looked down at the silver-haired girl as she spoke, studying her icy eyes, nonplussed until she came to mention a certain sickness that evidently caused man and beast to turn against one another. Beneath the cowl his eyebrows raised, green eyes suddenly attentive.
"Pray, tell me more of this sickness. Though I am not unwilling, if a cursed sickness is the cause of your troubles, then you shall require something more than swords to cleanse it." His deep voice was gentler toward the girl--she almost seemed to be at her wit's end just standing there in front of everyone, after all.
"I am Theophilus," he replied simply, unperturbed by the man's peeved tone and stance, although in his own there was the faintest hint of defensiveness when he stated the name--for it had no surname to go with it, thus no honor or dignity. Then, the centaur looked down at the silver-haired girl as she spoke, studying her icy eyes, nonplussed until she came to mention a certain sickness that evidently caused man and beast to turn against one another. Beneath the cowl his eyebrows raised, green eyes suddenly attentive.
"Pray, tell me more of this sickness. Though I am not unwilling, if a cursed sickness is the cause of your troubles, then you shall require something more than swords to cleanse it." His deep voice was gentler toward the girl--she almost seemed to be at her wit's end just standing there in front of everyone, after all.
At the edge of the gathering between a broken wagon and a dead apple tree, a tall woman with red hair leaned against her polearm. A beaten breastplate covered her chest but her body remained mostly unarmored, exposing the bloody bandages that poked out from under her clothes. Many of her wounds had been courtesy of an incident merely hours prior; something had driven the hounds mad in the kennels and they'd managed to break free. It had taken the combined strength of herself and several others nearby to contain them again without casualties.
Between the hounds and the boar attack mere hours earlier, the town was starting to wear thin. That gash in Rose's calf still throbbed with pain. She seethed through her teeth, brows knitting together. The worst part? That boar was still out there, probably waiting in the bushes just outside of town for some poor soul to pass by. Ayla was rightâ the Earth was rejecting their presence here in this valley.
The knight turned her attention to centaur that had woven through the crowd. She scoffed at his heroism. Her knuckles turned white around her halberd. In the back of her mind, she thought she recognized his name.
Did he think they would be desperately gathered if they knew anything about the threat they faced?
She remained silent, spectating from the back, listening as her eyes scanned the crowd and the shadows beyond. Each breath she took felt shallow. The other townies in the crowd seemed similarly on edge, ready to shout for help at a moment's notice or turn tail and run.
Between the hounds and the boar attack mere hours earlier, the town was starting to wear thin. That gash in Rose's calf still throbbed with pain. She seethed through her teeth, brows knitting together. The worst part? That boar was still out there, probably waiting in the bushes just outside of town for some poor soul to pass by. Ayla was rightâ the Earth was rejecting their presence here in this valley.
The knight turned her attention to centaur that had woven through the crowd. She scoffed at his heroism. Her knuckles turned white around her halberd. In the back of her mind, she thought she recognized his name.
Did he think they would be desperately gathered if they knew anything about the threat they faced?
She remained silent, spectating from the back, listening as her eyes scanned the crowd and the shadows beyond. Each breath she took felt shallow. The other townies in the crowd seemed similarly on edge, ready to shout for help at a moment's notice or turn tail and run.
Cinder chuckled.
She was sitting on a nearby fence, bare, red-skinned feet, wrapped around the lower wooden beam. She shook out her long, raven black hair and tilted her head as she considered. She was a tiefling, red of skin, and wearing a brocaded long coat of golden embroider. Her red horns wove through through her raven hair and swept backwards, giving one the impression that she was always moving even while standing still.
The horse-man had a good point she decided, the village folk would be best served if they protected themselves but... seriously, what did he think they'd do with their pitchforks and wooden mallets? That was where the young girl made an excellent point.
"It sounds like the the land is turning against the people?" Cinder called out jovially, clearly amused by the entire situation, "Maybe you should be asking what the people did to piss it off! Either that, or go looking for a druid with a bone to pick with the town's expansion."
Honestly, she didn't really care. She was... bored and that was enough to get her to do something. If things turned out to be too dangerous she could always bail. How likely she was to remain when it got dangerous... well, that depended on how much coin was being offered. Still, she'd let someone else ask about the coin, and paint themselves a mercenary.
"So, why don't you tell us more about what's happening?" Cinder added, "I may not be a scholar but I have been around and I do read a lot. Seriously, have you read the Trials of Cyril the Bold? Great book. I picked it up for only two copper in the previous town. It was better than the last two I read, both bodice-rippers."
She was sitting on a nearby fence, bare, red-skinned feet, wrapped around the lower wooden beam. She shook out her long, raven black hair and tilted her head as she considered. She was a tiefling, red of skin, and wearing a brocaded long coat of golden embroider. Her red horns wove through through her raven hair and swept backwards, giving one the impression that she was always moving even while standing still.
The horse-man had a good point she decided, the village folk would be best served if they protected themselves but... seriously, what did he think they'd do with their pitchforks and wooden mallets? That was where the young girl made an excellent point.
"It sounds like the the land is turning against the people?" Cinder called out jovially, clearly amused by the entire situation, "Maybe you should be asking what the people did to piss it off! Either that, or go looking for a druid with a bone to pick with the town's expansion."
Honestly, she didn't really care. She was... bored and that was enough to get her to do something. If things turned out to be too dangerous she could always bail. How likely she was to remain when it got dangerous... well, that depended on how much coin was being offered. Still, she'd let someone else ask about the coin, and paint themselves a mercenary.
"So, why don't you tell us more about what's happening?" Cinder added, "I may not be a scholar but I have been around and I do read a lot. Seriously, have you read the Trials of Cyril the Bold? Great book. I picked it up for only two copper in the previous town. It was better than the last two I read, both bodice-rippers."
"Theophilis?" The guard scoffed, "with no last name? And how can we be sure somebody as nameless as yourself will not turn on us, too?"
"P-please..." the silverhaired girl intervened, "I'm sure the centaur is just trying to help!" She bowed her head at the centaur, "f-forgive him, sir. The villagers are in panic.... they cannot trust each other as no one is safe here... not even from their own animals..."
She continued,
"You are quite correct, we need kind characters who are willing to get to the bottom of this..." she noticed he had softened his voice when asking about the sickness and it put her a little at ease. Still, she shuffled nervously with so many eyes on her. She opened her mouth to answer when she heard a voice from the fence of a nearby house. A woman with curiously red skin... perhaps... another hero? Or someone to stir up trouble?
"Y-you see... that's part of the problem. D-division amongst those who live here. The druids, you see, some suspect they are forming their own circle. But they are not the only ones who have done so..." she drifted off, "as for the sickness... it starts with odd behavior. A dog growls at its owner then stops as if confused. Chickens attack eachother and then straighten suddenly as if snapping out of it. A loved one snaps at her husband before suddenly looking dazed... and then there are the attacks... just this week, the baker's son came barging into the center square brandishing an axe over his head. Killed three villagers. We managed to restrain him but he's now in the barracks under full time surveillance..."
The guard cleared his throat, "If you would like to investigate for yourselves, you may:
Pay the baker's son a visit in the barracks. There are also others there, that have attacked the village.
Shepherd Xenon is also having trouble with a few of his hearding dogs, which might be worth looking into.
And don't be afraid to send your condolences to Stableman Hamilton. His horses were tearing eachother apart this week by the teeth and he did lose a fair few of them...
There are also many healers in the village if you have found yourself unfortunate enough to come across any of the sick." A small sympathetic look crossed his eyes as he addressed the redheaded woman leaning against the apple tree. The gash in her calf DID look painful.
"P-please..." the silverhaired girl intervened, "I'm sure the centaur is just trying to help!" She bowed her head at the centaur, "f-forgive him, sir. The villagers are in panic.... they cannot trust each other as no one is safe here... not even from their own animals..."
She continued,
"You are quite correct, we need kind characters who are willing to get to the bottom of this..." she noticed he had softened his voice when asking about the sickness and it put her a little at ease. Still, she shuffled nervously with so many eyes on her. She opened her mouth to answer when she heard a voice from the fence of a nearby house. A woman with curiously red skin... perhaps... another hero? Or someone to stir up trouble?
"Y-you see... that's part of the problem. D-division amongst those who live here. The druids, you see, some suspect they are forming their own circle. But they are not the only ones who have done so..." she drifted off, "as for the sickness... it starts with odd behavior. A dog growls at its owner then stops as if confused. Chickens attack eachother and then straighten suddenly as if snapping out of it. A loved one snaps at her husband before suddenly looking dazed... and then there are the attacks... just this week, the baker's son came barging into the center square brandishing an axe over his head. Killed three villagers. We managed to restrain him but he's now in the barracks under full time surveillance..."
The guard cleared his throat, "If you would like to investigate for yourselves, you may:
Pay the baker's son a visit in the barracks. There are also others there, that have attacked the village.
Shepherd Xenon is also having trouble with a few of his hearding dogs, which might be worth looking into.
And don't be afraid to send your condolences to Stableman Hamilton. His horses were tearing eachother apart this week by the teeth and he did lose a fair few of them...
There are also many healers in the village if you have found yourself unfortunate enough to come across any of the sick." A small sympathetic look crossed his eyes as he addressed the redheaded woman leaning against the apple tree. The gash in her calf DID look painful.
Theophilus stomped a hind leg and whisked his tail, irritated to say the least, readjusting his grip on his halberd. He'd have spoken right then and probably would have regretted his choice of words had not the small woman started first. Green eyes narrow, he listened to her, but only because her large eyes seemed to implore him to do so.
His gaze shifted when a horned, red-skinned woman sitting atop a fence called a quip about the land and druids. Her apparent ease about the whole situation was moderately questionable, but the words she spoke did have a point to them. Green eyes lingered on her a few moments longer than necessary, having seldom come across creatures like her. He'd seen few in the past, but had heard more stories than anythingâso-called devils, they were.
The silver-haired girl continued explaining the situation, and the centaur drew his eyes away from the 'devil' on the fence, and briefly, unintentionally met gazes with that of a tall woman by a withered apple tree and a broken wagon, leaning on a halberd quite like his own. Dressed and armed like a warrior, she appeared at first glance to be one of the town's few remaining guards. Whether or not that was true, it seemed that she, like others, already had dealings with whatever plague was upon the land.
His attention returned to the girl when she said that druids were 'forming their own circle.' He thought to question this further, but the guard spoke next.
Theophilus furrowed his brow. The man had the audacity to insult him in front of the whole town, and now declare that he may investigate? Only a subtlety in his expression beneath his cowl and another flick of his tail displayed the frustration.
"I see," the centaur's melodic voice rumbled at last, sharp eyes on the guard. "Very well. Should an investigation be fruitful, will your town be able to bear the price in coin? If, of course, I do not turn on you like you so fear." He added the last bit with sardonicism, although he was serious about the question of coin.
(Please don't mind me swiping the word 'halberd' from Rose... I used 'poleaxe' last time because I just couldn't think of the right name for the weapon I was looking for, and your RP reminded me of it... lol)
His gaze shifted when a horned, red-skinned woman sitting atop a fence called a quip about the land and druids. Her apparent ease about the whole situation was moderately questionable, but the words she spoke did have a point to them. Green eyes lingered on her a few moments longer than necessary, having seldom come across creatures like her. He'd seen few in the past, but had heard more stories than anythingâso-called devils, they were.
The silver-haired girl continued explaining the situation, and the centaur drew his eyes away from the 'devil' on the fence, and briefly, unintentionally met gazes with that of a tall woman by a withered apple tree and a broken wagon, leaning on a halberd quite like his own. Dressed and armed like a warrior, she appeared at first glance to be one of the town's few remaining guards. Whether or not that was true, it seemed that she, like others, already had dealings with whatever plague was upon the land.
His attention returned to the girl when she said that druids were 'forming their own circle.' He thought to question this further, but the guard spoke next.
Theophilus furrowed his brow. The man had the audacity to insult him in front of the whole town, and now declare that he may investigate? Only a subtlety in his expression beneath his cowl and another flick of his tail displayed the frustration.
"I see," the centaur's melodic voice rumbled at last, sharp eyes on the guard. "Very well. Should an investigation be fruitful, will your town be able to bear the price in coin? If, of course, I do not turn on you like you so fear." He added the last bit with sardonicism, although he was serious about the question of coin.
(Please don't mind me swiping the word 'halberd' from Rose... I used 'poleaxe' last time because I just couldn't think of the right name for the weapon I was looking for, and your RP reminded me of it... lol)
(( my pleasure haha
Rose spat on the ground at the mention of the druids. Bad omens, they were. She'd never seen one herself, but she was more than ready to stick a blade in one the moment they reared their faces for the damage they had caused to her town. Among nearly everyone else in the crowd, she had grown up here. It was a damn shame the place was falling to ruin, but it was no wonder, either. The neglect ran deep among the officials; such was clear as day in the words of the commanding guard, but she'd long since learned to ignore it. Arguing with each other wasn't going to solve anything. If the tension escalated, she would be ready to step between the fools.
If anything, one of the tiefling's comments stood out to the town guard. What did she know about the druids?
Still, her eyes scanned the alleys and turns in the cobble road beyond the square, only occasionally flitting to the few unique figures that had chosen to speak out. There was a lull in the chaos.
For now.
Rose spat on the ground at the mention of the druids. Bad omens, they were. She'd never seen one herself, but she was more than ready to stick a blade in one the moment they reared their faces for the damage they had caused to her town. Among nearly everyone else in the crowd, she had grown up here. It was a damn shame the place was falling to ruin, but it was no wonder, either. The neglect ran deep among the officials; such was clear as day in the words of the commanding guard, but she'd long since learned to ignore it. Arguing with each other wasn't going to solve anything. If the tension escalated, she would be ready to step between the fools.
If anything, one of the tiefling's comments stood out to the town guard. What did she know about the druids?
Still, her eyes scanned the alleys and turns in the cobble road beyond the square, only occasionally flitting to the few unique figures that had chosen to speak out. There was a lull in the chaos.
For now.
Another new individual had made their way towards the town square. It appeared to be a woman; although her true appearance was impossible to perceive given the fact she was dressed so modestly. Her outfit revealed absolutely none of her skin, looking unordinary at first glance- but perhaps it was merely a cultural or religious practice. The plague mask covering her face seemed to indicate she was a healer.
She stopped amidst the crowd, pausing to listen to the discussion taking place. She cocked her head slightly in curiosity.
"So this is the town plagued by sickness.." The woman muttered to herself, tapping the bottom of her mask. It seemed as if she had arrived to help investigate the situation.
The strange healer folded her hands together, looking towards the people in the crowd that had spoken up. It was a diverse crowd, she noted to herself, spying the centaur and tiefling. But what really caught the woman's eye was the redheaded knight.
"You look like you've had quite the busy morning." She remarked as she approached the other woman, tone warm and friendly. "Do you need any help with your wounds?"
She stopped amidst the crowd, pausing to listen to the discussion taking place. She cocked her head slightly in curiosity.
"So this is the town plagued by sickness.." The woman muttered to herself, tapping the bottom of her mask. It seemed as if she had arrived to help investigate the situation.
The strange healer folded her hands together, looking towards the people in the crowd that had spoken up. It was a diverse crowd, she noted to herself, spying the centaur and tiefling. But what really caught the woman's eye was the redheaded knight.
"You look like you've had quite the busy morning." She remarked as she approached the other woman, tone warm and friendly. "Do you need any help with your wounds?"
Wincing at the reminder of her pain, Rose looked to the doctor and clenched her jaw. She gave the pale outfit a once-over before releasing a quick sigh of relief.
"What a welcoming sight you are," she said, lowering her guard for just a moment. "Surely you must have a remedy for my cuts? I fear they'll worsen if I don't put something on them. I know I should probably stay off the leg, but..."
She lifted her gaze to the crowd again, concern bright in her eyes for the well-being of the townsfolk she'd grown to love over the years. Her attention came to fall on the centaur as he spoke, her ears having no trouble picking up his baritone over the mumbling crowd, before she looked down to the doctor again. The suit was not one she recognized, but these times called for serious precautions.
"...It seems we've resorted to the threats of sell-swords," she finished with a quieter tone. "I'll stand so long as I can wield my weapon."
"What a welcoming sight you are," she said, lowering her guard for just a moment. "Surely you must have a remedy for my cuts? I fear they'll worsen if I don't put something on them. I know I should probably stay off the leg, but..."
She lifted her gaze to the crowd again, concern bright in her eyes for the well-being of the townsfolk she'd grown to love over the years. Her attention came to fall on the centaur as he spoke, her ears having no trouble picking up his baritone over the mumbling crowd, before she looked down to the doctor again. The suit was not one she recognized, but these times called for serious precautions.
"...It seems we've resorted to the threats of sell-swords," she finished with a quieter tone. "I'll stand so long as I can wield my weapon."
The guard looked at him wearily but said nothing, instead choosing to nod his head when the silver haired girl gave him another gentle tug on his shirt as a reminder to be nice.
He looked at Ayla instead who nodded her head gently in response "w-we have coin... The lord of this land has offered a great payment to any who can stop the sickness. This was a very wealthy and recognized village before the attacks began... our trade was very strong and travellers liked to frequent." She looked down at the hem of her dress as she fiddled with it "The inn keeper has also offered free bedding if that is what you fancy. I-is that alright?"
Her eyes flicked over to the new comer.
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
A healer. They needed them. Thank the divines, the healers in this village (though they tried) had not been able to keep up with the amount of tragedies. She gave the woman a small, shy smile before focusing her attention back on the centaur.
He looked at Ayla instead who nodded her head gently in response "w-we have coin... The lord of this land has offered a great payment to any who can stop the sickness. This was a very wealthy and recognized village before the attacks began... our trade was very strong and travellers liked to frequent." She looked down at the hem of her dress as she fiddled with it "The inn keeper has also offered free bedding if that is what you fancy. I-is that alright?"
Her eyes flicked over to the new comer.
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
A healer. They needed them. Thank the divines, the healers in this village (though they tried) had not been able to keep up with the amount of tragedies. She gave the woman a small, shy smile before focusing her attention back on the centaur.
Cinder scoffed, a mixture of a chuckle and huff of air that sounded odd to the ear. She kicked her bare feet and hopped from the fence and stretched, her long tail darting mindlessly about without aim.
"Curt words and pointed fingers," the raven haired tiefling commented, her barb broad and indirect, "As usual demons must go where angels fear to tread."
Which, she added solely to herself, will allow me a moment to myself to contact my lord Malphas and ask him if demon kind are at play here....
"I will be off to the barracks," she told everyone, not caring who was listening, "I reason it will be easier to interrogate a living man than dead horses or raging sheep dogs."
"Curt words and pointed fingers," the raven haired tiefling commented, her barb broad and indirect, "As usual demons must go where angels fear to tread."
Which, she added solely to herself, will allow me a moment to myself to contact my lord Malphas and ask him if demon kind are at play here....
"I will be off to the barracks," she told everyone, not caring who was listening, "I reason it will be easier to interrogate a living man than dead horses or raging sheep dogs."
His eyes had been upon the guard, expecting him to answer. But when the pale girl spoke instead, his hardened visage melted into calm neutrality, gaze focusing on hers. He realized he was acting a fool, being so touchy.
Theophilus bowed his head to her when she concluded the offer, his cowl falling low over his eyes for a moment. Though the amount was not stated, the promise that a wealthy lord would be backing success with coin was more than enough for him. The ghost of an amused smile played on his features as he opened his mouth to speak, "Bedding at an inn does me no good," he gently stamped a large feathered hoof as if to clarify the point that horse bodies are a tad uncomfortable in humanoid spaces. Then, the smile faded. "The offer is well. My blades shall be counted among yours," as he said this, his green eyes flicked to the guard's, and then over to where he saw a stranger approaching the square.
His brow furrowed and eyes squinted to observe her--a woman wearing so much clothing that not a bit of her skin was showing. He'd only heard of beaked masks such as she wore in distant lands, and he decided that they were a bit unsettling now that he saw one for himself. She seemed to be interested in the wounded, auburn-haired guard. Intent on starting the job instead of worrying about newcomers, he turned...
...only in time to see the red-skinned woman lighting off her perch, quipping something about demons and angels, then heading off to the barracks. Indeed, her reasoning was sound for doing so... and they were the exact reasons he had been planning to go to the barracks as well. It was the obvious place to begin, a good chance to learn more about the sickness. After that, he would inquire further about the druids.
Without a word he walked in the devil's wake some distance behind, clopping noisily along the cobblestone street toward the barracks where the baker's boy was kept.
((If this had too many actions in it for you to respond how you want, Ashleigh, let me know and I'll edit! Still getting used to the flow of RPing on a site.
))
Theophilus bowed his head to her when she concluded the offer, his cowl falling low over his eyes for a moment. Though the amount was not stated, the promise that a wealthy lord would be backing success with coin was more than enough for him. The ghost of an amused smile played on his features as he opened his mouth to speak, "Bedding at an inn does me no good," he gently stamped a large feathered hoof as if to clarify the point that horse bodies are a tad uncomfortable in humanoid spaces. Then, the smile faded. "The offer is well. My blades shall be counted among yours," as he said this, his green eyes flicked to the guard's, and then over to where he saw a stranger approaching the square.
His brow furrowed and eyes squinted to observe her--a woman wearing so much clothing that not a bit of her skin was showing. He'd only heard of beaked masks such as she wore in distant lands, and he decided that they were a bit unsettling now that he saw one for himself. She seemed to be interested in the wounded, auburn-haired guard. Intent on starting the job instead of worrying about newcomers, he turned...
...only in time to see the red-skinned woman lighting off her perch, quipping something about demons and angels, then heading off to the barracks. Indeed, her reasoning was sound for doing so... and they were the exact reasons he had been planning to go to the barracks as well. It was the obvious place to begin, a good chance to learn more about the sickness. After that, he would inquire further about the druids.
Without a word he walked in the devil's wake some distance behind, clopping noisily along the cobblestone street toward the barracks where the baker's boy was kept.
((If this had too many actions in it for you to respond how you want, Ashleigh, let me know and I'll edit! Still getting used to the flow of RPing on a site.
))
The strange healer let out a soft chuckle, "Indeed I do. My mentor taught me the recipe to an excellent healing salve." She'd explain as she opened up a linen satchel that hung across her shoulder, retrieving a small jar of the aforementioned healing salve. She offered the jar to Rose, "Apply this to your wounds, then wrap them up with clean cloth. It should prevent infection and accelerate healing."
Her head tilted slightly as she noted Rose's leg. "Yes.. It'd be better if you stayed off the leg, but I can't judge; the situation of this town is currently quite.. dire." The healer noted. "If you require any stitches, however, I'm happy to help."
Despite this woman's strange appearance, her intentions seemed quite genuine. The salve looked legit, instructions and ingredients carefully scrawled on the label in ink.
Her attention switched to the tiefling and centaur as the duo departed, a small "hm" coming from her mask.
"I might tag along with them. I want to investigate this sickness for myself."
Her head tilted slightly as she noted Rose's leg. "Yes.. It'd be better if you stayed off the leg, but I can't judge; the situation of this town is currently quite.. dire." The healer noted. "If you require any stitches, however, I'm happy to help."
Despite this woman's strange appearance, her intentions seemed quite genuine. The salve looked legit, instructions and ingredients carefully scrawled on the label in ink.
Her attention switched to the tiefling and centaur as the duo departed, a small "hm" coming from her mask.
"I might tag along with them. I want to investigate this sickness for myself."
The silver haired girl offered a small, relieved smile as she gave him a small, thankful bow. "Y-yes of course." She agreed, flushing a little at the comment about the inn. She had not met any centaurs before so this slipped her mind, "I'm sure the villagers would be happy to offer something else for your services if need be."
The guard didn't look impressed but patted the girl on the head once more. "Asla will go with you. She knows the villagers well."
Ayla nodded and followed shyly behind. She did hide behind the centaur a little as the red lady intimidated her a little. Did she say Malphas?
--
9.30am
The Barracks
The barracks did not feel like a place meant for the living.
The moment the door creaked open, the air shiftedâthick, stale, carrying the sharp tang of iron and something faintly sweet beneath it. Not rot. Not quite.
Something⊠wrong.
A low, uneven scratching echoed from somewhere inside.
---
Torchlight spilled across the stone floor as the party stepped in, shadows stretching long and warped against the walls. Iron-barred cells lined either side of the narrow hall, but it wasnât the confinement that made the place unsettling.
It was the movement.
Figures lurked within the cells, some crouched low, others pacing with erratic, twitching steps. And then...
A snarl.
Sudden. Violent.
One of them lunged at the bars with startling speed, fingers clawing through the gaps, teeth snapping at Cinder who had been unfortunate enough to lead. A jagged white crystal jutted from its forearm, fused into flesh like it had grown there. The skin around it looked⊠stretched. Angry. Alive.
Another followed.
Then another.
A possessed giant praying mantis shot poison towards Theophilis, a hagraven launched sharp claws towards the doctor.
The quiet shattered into chaos, ragged breathing, scraping nails, the sharp clatter of bodies throwing themselves against iron. All reacting...
Like animals.
And at the far end of the barracks-
He didnât move.
An orc- the baker's son- sat behind his own set of bars, broader than the others, his massive frame hunched forward with his forearms resting on his knees. Chains hung loose around his wrists, more precaution than necessity.
His gaze was fixed on the floor.
Unblinking.
A faint white crystal protruded from his forehead, not as large, not yetâbut unmistakable. It caught the torchlight with an unnatural sheen, pulsing, as though something inside it was trying to breathe.
Unlike the others, he wasnât snarling.
Wasnât lunging.
But the tension in him was undeniableâcoiled tight beneath the surface, like something barely held back.
Slowly⊠his eyes lifted.
The found the interesting mix of characters who had stepped through the door.
Confusion flickered there first.
Then resentment.
Then something darker, harder to place.
âI didnâtââ He muttered, voice rough like he hadn't spoken in days, jaw tightening as his gaze flicked briefly to the others throwing themselves against their cells.
A sharp clang rang out beside the newcomers as another infected prisoner slammed into the bars, teeth snapping wildly.
The orc flinched.
ââŠThey wonât stop,â he said, quieter now, almost to himself. âI can hear them. Even when no-one's speaking.â
His fingers curled slowly into fists.
Then his eyes snapped back to the group, sharper now. Accusing.
âhave you come to kill me?â he asked, voice low, edged with something unstable. âThen do it beforeâŠâ
The crystal on his forehead gave a faint, almost imperceptible pulse.
ââŠbefore I completely lose myself.â
The guard didn't look impressed but patted the girl on the head once more. "Asla will go with you. She knows the villagers well."
Ayla nodded and followed shyly behind. She did hide behind the centaur a little as the red lady intimidated her a little. Did she say Malphas?
--
9.30am
The Barracks
The barracks did not feel like a place meant for the living.
The moment the door creaked open, the air shiftedâthick, stale, carrying the sharp tang of iron and something faintly sweet beneath it. Not rot. Not quite.
Something⊠wrong.
A low, uneven scratching echoed from somewhere inside.
---
Torchlight spilled across the stone floor as the party stepped in, shadows stretching long and warped against the walls. Iron-barred cells lined either side of the narrow hall, but it wasnât the confinement that made the place unsettling.
It was the movement.
Figures lurked within the cells, some crouched low, others pacing with erratic, twitching steps. And then...
A snarl.
Sudden. Violent.
One of them lunged at the bars with startling speed, fingers clawing through the gaps, teeth snapping at Cinder who had been unfortunate enough to lead. A jagged white crystal jutted from its forearm, fused into flesh like it had grown there. The skin around it looked⊠stretched. Angry. Alive.
Another followed.
Then another.
A possessed giant praying mantis shot poison towards Theophilis, a hagraven launched sharp claws towards the doctor.
The quiet shattered into chaos, ragged breathing, scraping nails, the sharp clatter of bodies throwing themselves against iron. All reacting...
Like animals.
And at the far end of the barracks-
He didnât move.
An orc- the baker's son- sat behind his own set of bars, broader than the others, his massive frame hunched forward with his forearms resting on his knees. Chains hung loose around his wrists, more precaution than necessity.
His gaze was fixed on the floor.
Unblinking.
A faint white crystal protruded from his forehead, not as large, not yetâbut unmistakable. It caught the torchlight with an unnatural sheen, pulsing, as though something inside it was trying to breathe.
Unlike the others, he wasnât snarling.
Wasnât lunging.
But the tension in him was undeniableâcoiled tight beneath the surface, like something barely held back.
Slowly⊠his eyes lifted.
The found the interesting mix of characters who had stepped through the door.
Confusion flickered there first.
Then resentment.
Then something darker, harder to place.
âI didnâtââ He muttered, voice rough like he hadn't spoken in days, jaw tightening as his gaze flicked briefly to the others throwing themselves against their cells.
A sharp clang rang out beside the newcomers as another infected prisoner slammed into the bars, teeth snapping wildly.
The orc flinched.
ââŠThey wonât stop,â he said, quieter now, almost to himself. âI can hear them. Even when no-one's speaking.â
His fingers curled slowly into fists.
Then his eyes snapped back to the group, sharper now. Accusing.
âhave you come to kill me?â he asked, voice low, edged with something unstable. âThen do it beforeâŠâ
The crystal on his forehead gave a faint, almost imperceptible pulse.
ââŠbefore I completely lose myself.â
The red skinned, demon woman, had been planning to steal away, to find a moment and attempt to contact her patron, to ask if he had any knowledge or advice concerning what was ailing the village. Well, that wasn't going to happen with an entourage. She partially drew the dagger at her lower back from its sheathe but then pressed it back home with a diminutive click. She needed time to perform a ritual to summon Malphas' image to her. It wasn't something she could just do in a stolen moment.
With luck, maybe Malphas would contact her. He'd done so in the past, rarely, sending a demon or another of his followers to make contact.
So, instead, she simply led her newly acquired train of followers towards the distant barracks. Inwardly, she was excited, her skin warming with an internal demon's fire. This was something new and interesting and she couldn't wait to see where this all led. Plus there was a great possibility she would be able to burn something. That was always a bonus!
When they entered the barracks, saw the scuttling forms, the janky, erratic, movements, Cinder knew something wasn't right. She was listening to the baker's son, focused on his words and almost didn't step back from the bars fast enough when one lunged. She uttered a strangled cry of alarm and retreated just far enough that the thing inside wasn't a threat. She was drawn to the crystal, the thing growing in its arm. what was that?
The gob of acid sailing past her and launching itself towards the centaur, what was his name, further surprised her. The aggressive nature of these things alarmed her and... excited her. however, this couldn't be allowed to continue. For the most part the prisoners were confined. That one needed to be dealt with, as did the one launching claws against them.
"Enough, " Cinder cried out, "You want to see violence?"
Cinder took advantage of their incarceration, summoning a sphere of flame directly into the cell containing the insect thing, wondering how it was going to smell.
With luck, maybe Malphas would contact her. He'd done so in the past, rarely, sending a demon or another of his followers to make contact.
So, instead, she simply led her newly acquired train of followers towards the distant barracks. Inwardly, she was excited, her skin warming with an internal demon's fire. This was something new and interesting and she couldn't wait to see where this all led. Plus there was a great possibility she would be able to burn something. That was always a bonus!
When they entered the barracks, saw the scuttling forms, the janky, erratic, movements, Cinder knew something wasn't right. She was listening to the baker's son, focused on his words and almost didn't step back from the bars fast enough when one lunged. She uttered a strangled cry of alarm and retreated just far enough that the thing inside wasn't a threat. She was drawn to the crystal, the thing growing in its arm. what was that?
The gob of acid sailing past her and launching itself towards the centaur, what was his name, further surprised her. The aggressive nature of these things alarmed her and... excited her. however, this couldn't be allowed to continue. For the most part the prisoners were confined. That one needed to be dealt with, as did the one launching claws against them.
"Enough, " Cinder cried out, "You want to see violence?"
Cinder took advantage of their incarceration, summoning a sphere of flame directly into the cell containing the insect thing, wondering how it was going to smell.
Theophilus eyed the girl, Ayla, as he'd now heard her name, when she was sent to come along, but soon he turned and kept walking, not minding her quiet, shy company. He also, though, shot a glance at the strangely clad woman who'd begun to follow them as well.
While the others went into the barracks, Theophilus made sure to enter last... reason being his difficulty with doors. Placing his halberd in its place on his back among his few other weapons, he began the struggle by first lowering himself onto the knees of his forelegs in order to lower his head through the doorway. Awkwardly crawling the first part of his body into the room, the hard part, squeezing his large, armored hindquarters through the space, began. The ordeal lasted for several long seconds, the effort producing a good deal of grunts. It would have been absolutely humiliating had he not done this a hundred times, although it was still a ridiculous sight.
It was when he was almost done dragging his last leg into the room that the poison was spat at him by the giant insectoid. It struck his chest, which was covered by a layer of both chainmail and thick, padded fabric. Finally scrambling to a standing position--and bumping his head painfully on the ceiling--Theophilus reached behind him to the hilt of one of his swords, stopping himself when he saw the red-skinned, black-haired woman seem to already be efficiently taking care of that part of the problem. With his leather bracer he swiped away most of the poison. Or, if it was more like acid, then he would at least prefer it to burn his arm than into his chest.
The grim atmosphere didn't bother him very much more than any other humanoid building did--since he avoided entering them as much as possible, they were all quite the same to his eyes; one was just as cramped and uncomfortable as the rest.
Mostly concerned about projectiles, he didn't yet bother with the other cages once he spotted the orc sitting more calmly in his cage, speaking. The centaur walked toward him, torso bent forward slightly to avoid the ceiling, while he listened. He noted the white crystals protruding from the flesh of the infected, and wondered if they themselves would be affected merely by proximity. Perhaps that fear has kept the guards from coming here to question the young orc, preferring to send outsiders to do it.
Theophilus' green eyes met the baker's son's, a mix of curiosity and pity on his face. He spoke to him calmly, with a quiet boldness in his deep, melodic tone. "We have not come here to harm you. We seek information--if you help us, your family and friends may yet be saved. If we are swift, we might even save you. What is your name?" He asked, pausing before going on, "When did that crystal appear on your forehead? And what sorts of things were you doing, and where, leading up to the time you discovered you were infected? Think carefully, I pray you, for many lives hang upon knowledge of these things."
While the others went into the barracks, Theophilus made sure to enter last... reason being his difficulty with doors. Placing his halberd in its place on his back among his few other weapons, he began the struggle by first lowering himself onto the knees of his forelegs in order to lower his head through the doorway. Awkwardly crawling the first part of his body into the room, the hard part, squeezing his large, armored hindquarters through the space, began. The ordeal lasted for several long seconds, the effort producing a good deal of grunts. It would have been absolutely humiliating had he not done this a hundred times, although it was still a ridiculous sight.
It was when he was almost done dragging his last leg into the room that the poison was spat at him by the giant insectoid. It struck his chest, which was covered by a layer of both chainmail and thick, padded fabric. Finally scrambling to a standing position--and bumping his head painfully on the ceiling--Theophilus reached behind him to the hilt of one of his swords, stopping himself when he saw the red-skinned, black-haired woman seem to already be efficiently taking care of that part of the problem. With his leather bracer he swiped away most of the poison. Or, if it was more like acid, then he would at least prefer it to burn his arm than into his chest.
The grim atmosphere didn't bother him very much more than any other humanoid building did--since he avoided entering them as much as possible, they were all quite the same to his eyes; one was just as cramped and uncomfortable as the rest.
Mostly concerned about projectiles, he didn't yet bother with the other cages once he spotted the orc sitting more calmly in his cage, speaking. The centaur walked toward him, torso bent forward slightly to avoid the ceiling, while he listened. He noted the white crystals protruding from the flesh of the infected, and wondered if they themselves would be affected merely by proximity. Perhaps that fear has kept the guards from coming here to question the young orc, preferring to send outsiders to do it.
Theophilus' green eyes met the baker's son's, a mix of curiosity and pity on his face. He spoke to him calmly, with a quiet boldness in his deep, melodic tone. "We have not come here to harm you. We seek information--if you help us, your family and friends may yet be saved. If we are swift, we might even save you. What is your name?" He asked, pausing before going on, "When did that crystal appear on your forehead? And what sorts of things were you doing, and where, leading up to the time you discovered you were infected? Think carefully, I pray you, for many lives hang upon knowledge of these things."
Paris Blight wrote:
The strange healer let out a soft chuckle, "Indeed I do. My mentor taught me the recipe to an excellent healing salve." She'd explain as she opened up a linen satchel that hung across her shoulder, retrieving a small jar of the aforementioned healing salve. She offered the jar to Rose, "Apply this to your wounds, then wrap them up with clean cloth. It should prevent infection and accelerate healing."
Her head tilted slightly as she noted Rose's leg. "Yes.. It'd be better if you stayed off the leg, but I can't judge; the situation of this town is currently quite.. dire." The healer noted. "If you require any stitches, however, I'm happy to help."
Despite this woman's strange appearance, her intentions seemed quite genuine. The salve looked legit, instructions and ingredients carefully scrawled on the label in ink.
Her attention switched to the tiefling and centaur as the duo departed, a small "hm" coming from her mask.
"I might tag along with them. I want to investigate this sickness for myself."
Her head tilted slightly as she noted Rose's leg. "Yes.. It'd be better if you stayed off the leg, but I can't judge; the situation of this town is currently quite.. dire." The healer noted. "If you require any stitches, however, I'm happy to help."
Despite this woman's strange appearance, her intentions seemed quite genuine. The salve looked legit, instructions and ingredients carefully scrawled on the label in ink.
Her attention switched to the tiefling and centaur as the duo departed, a small "hm" coming from her mask.
"I might tag along with them. I want to investigate this sickness for myself."
Dirty, blood-stained fingers reached forward to take the jar with intentional gentleness and care, concern written on Rose Thornwood's face at being charged with the responsibility of such a powerful ointment from such professional foreign aid. She would do well not to drop it. If she was able, she would use the salve sparingly and bring the rest to the other injured as well once she arrived at the infirmary.
"Thank you," she said earnestly, bowing her head to the overdressed masked woman. Immediately, trust bloomed in her chest, despite not learning their name yet. Sometimes names weren't important. "Thank you."
Not wanting to waste any time, she hooked her halberd through an elbow to free her other hand, using it to pop open the jar and lift the open container to her nose. Perhaps it was instinctive, or habitualâ but she took a good, strong whiff of the contents before sticking two fingers into it, scooping out a glob of the stuff to apply to a few of the red cuts that hadn't been bandaged on her knuckles and forearms. She waited a momentâher eyes jumping between the masked woman, the slowly dissipating crowd, and her handsâwaiting for her body to reactâ or for it to hurt like hell.
"By all means." The group with the centaur had left only moments ago; the masked woman could still catch up to them. "Just be sure to stay behind those heroes, 'case something foul does occur again. We wouldn't want to lose the only competent doctor in town."
Another glance down to her injured hands, then the jar clasped between them. Her mind started to wander toward the supposed druids that were at the root of all this, but she couldn't make sense of any of it. Her face twisted in agony. Her heart started pumping in her chest, like she'd just run a league. She took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped a bead of sweat from her temple.
Why would they want to destroy this town?
"Don't mind me, I'll just take a seat here against the wagon."
(( ... apologies for the wait
I have more free time now.
The healer nodded a bit at the thanks, "It's my pleasure. I came here to help, after all. Let me know if you need more of the salve- or if any fellow townspeople need it."
There was a warmness to her tone. You couldn't see her face, but it sounded like she was smiling.
As for the salve itself, it had a strong herbal scent. It would feel cool against her cuts and scars, offering some pain relief. It wasn't magical by any means, but it was certainly crafted by a skilled individual. The healer seemed to know her stuff.
"I'll take your advice, then. Let me know if you ever need help again, or if you have any information regarding this strange sickness. My name is Paris, if you ever need me." She dipped her head politely, before heading off in the direction the centaur and Tiefling went.
The healer caught up quickly, entering the barracks shortly after Cinder. The forboding atmosphere didn't seem to bother the woman in the slightest; rather, she seemed more curious than anything else. The Hargaven launching at her didn't bode well, though, the doctor quickly dodging the attack and defensively holding her sleeve.
"Hmph. No respect for modesty." She commented, as if more concerned about her clothes being torn than actually getting hurt.
Paris followed Theophilus towards the baker's son, glancing briefly back at Cinder. The fire spell was a bit unnerving indoors.. but the other woman seemed to be a skilled adventurer. Paris wasn't about to get involved.
Her attention returned towards the baker's son, eyes locked on the strange crystal jutting out of his head. Her head tilted as she observed the new phenomenon, retrieving a small notepad out of her satchel and frantically writing things down.
There was a warmness to her tone. You couldn't see her face, but it sounded like she was smiling.
As for the salve itself, it had a strong herbal scent. It would feel cool against her cuts and scars, offering some pain relief. It wasn't magical by any means, but it was certainly crafted by a skilled individual. The healer seemed to know her stuff.
"I'll take your advice, then. Let me know if you ever need help again, or if you have any information regarding this strange sickness. My name is Paris, if you ever need me." She dipped her head politely, before heading off in the direction the centaur and Tiefling went.
The healer caught up quickly, entering the barracks shortly after Cinder. The forboding atmosphere didn't seem to bother the woman in the slightest; rather, she seemed more curious than anything else. The Hargaven launching at her didn't bode well, though, the doctor quickly dodging the attack and defensively holding her sleeve.
"Hmph. No respect for modesty." She commented, as if more concerned about her clothes being torn than actually getting hurt.
Paris followed Theophilus towards the baker's son, glancing briefly back at Cinder. The fire spell was a bit unnerving indoors.. but the other woman seemed to be a skilled adventurer. Paris wasn't about to get involved.
Her attention returned towards the baker's son, eyes locked on the strange crystal jutting out of his head. Her head tilted as she observed the new phenomenon, retrieving a small notepad out of her satchel and frantically writing things down.
You are on: Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Town Square: Open to all- LF heroes & villains