The Hanged Man rotated towards the second scream and began to advance with his shield on his arm. When the woman came racing out of the mist he didn't lower his guard--he had learned that pretty faces could hide savagery rivaling the fiercest beasts--and only approached her when she dropped to the mud. He sheathed his sword and knelt beside her, trying to pry her fingers loose so he could get a look at her injury. The woman in blue had begun to question her, and the Hanged Man didn't want to overwhelm her, so he said nothing.
((Any youse want to keep this going?))
((OOC - sure - I will wait a day or two before posting again ))
Calico came over to The Hanged Man also gazing down at the wounded woman, listening into the answers if any were provided
It was not the case that Calico was compassionate in any way, not really, well, perhaps a little, but the main purpose for approaching the wounded was trying to figure the sort of creature they were facing by examining the wounds on the survivors and any corpses left scattered.
It was not the case that Calico was compassionate in any way, not really, well, perhaps a little, but the main purpose for approaching the wounded was trying to figure the sort of creature they were facing by examining the wounds on the survivors and any corpses left scattered.
((Sorry for the wait y’all. Life is extremely chaotic and to top it all off there’s just been a death in the family. Trying to figure everything out right now but I’ll do my best to keep up.))
Atropos had opened her mouth to speak, not at all fond of the way she had been addressed, but her attention snapped to the injured woman as well, and her interaction with The Hanged Man.
Specifically, the way she held her head low, bowed so that her hair fell over her face. The shadows cast covered her eyes, and as her hand was pried from her injury, the Hanged Man would see there was no injury. The blood that soaked her hands and arm were not her own.
“You mortal men amuse me so.” The woman chuckled gently, gripping his own hand with surprising strength; her eyes flickered up to his own and her smile exposed sharp fangs, “But you aren’t a mortal, are you stranger?”
The woman could’ve, based on her strength, broken bones. But instead, she shoved The Hanged Man back with all her might, pushing herself in the opposite direction. Carefully, she moved to her feet, reaching up with careful hands to pull her hair from the strange bun it had been in; it fell around her head in wispy strands, sticking to her clothing and even in the mud at her feet. She stood in the rain, unnerved by the icy drops that pelted her skin, and smiled at The Hanged Man; she had hardly bothered even glancing at anyone else, focused solely on him, “Well, what are you? A human? I wouldn’t think so...I’ve been observing this town for quite some time, You’re the strangest one here by far...where’s that armor from, you? I certainly haven’t seen anything like you, what an odd human you are.” Her questions came one after another, and the way she spoke conveyed her youth; but then again, those teeth and her pale appearance seemed to lead that she was not human either. However, as her eyes slid across the group, the menacing aura she carried seemed to disappeared; though the blood stained parts of her hair faint pink, it had begun to wash away from her hands and arms, exposing long, and rather sharp looking nails, “Wow, what an interesting group that’s gathered, you must tell me who you all are! I’m awfully interested in this strange Knight, but it has been some time since I’ve spoken to an elf, and certainly since I’ve spoken to....” she glanced at Krystalline, as if trying to pick out her species, “A dragon? Half Breed? Goodness I really must speak with you, how interesting to find one of your kind here!”
This woman amidst the carnage; judging on the blood she had been covered in, she was likely the culprit of it all. And yet the way she spoke, as if she was innocent of all that was there. Like it hadn’t even happened, and they were all just meeting for the first time at some kind of celebration.
Specifically, the way she held her head low, bowed so that her hair fell over her face. The shadows cast covered her eyes, and as her hand was pried from her injury, the Hanged Man would see there was no injury. The blood that soaked her hands and arm were not her own.
“You mortal men amuse me so.” The woman chuckled gently, gripping his own hand with surprising strength; her eyes flickered up to his own and her smile exposed sharp fangs, “But you aren’t a mortal, are you stranger?”
The woman could’ve, based on her strength, broken bones. But instead, she shoved The Hanged Man back with all her might, pushing herself in the opposite direction. Carefully, she moved to her feet, reaching up with careful hands to pull her hair from the strange bun it had been in; it fell around her head in wispy strands, sticking to her clothing and even in the mud at her feet. She stood in the rain, unnerved by the icy drops that pelted her skin, and smiled at The Hanged Man; she had hardly bothered even glancing at anyone else, focused solely on him, “Well, what are you? A human? I wouldn’t think so...I’ve been observing this town for quite some time, You’re the strangest one here by far...where’s that armor from, you? I certainly haven’t seen anything like you, what an odd human you are.” Her questions came one after another, and the way she spoke conveyed her youth; but then again, those teeth and her pale appearance seemed to lead that she was not human either. However, as her eyes slid across the group, the menacing aura she carried seemed to disappeared; though the blood stained parts of her hair faint pink, it had begun to wash away from her hands and arms, exposing long, and rather sharp looking nails, “Wow, what an interesting group that’s gathered, you must tell me who you all are! I’m awfully interested in this strange Knight, but it has been some time since I’ve spoken to an elf, and certainly since I’ve spoken to....” she glanced at Krystalline, as if trying to pick out her species, “A dragon? Half Breed? Goodness I really must speak with you, how interesting to find one of your kind here!”
This woman amidst the carnage; judging on the blood she had been covered in, she was likely the culprit of it all. And yet the way she spoke, as if she was innocent of all that was there. Like it hadn’t even happened, and they were all just meeting for the first time at some kind of celebration.
I guess she wasn't injured then. Krystal thought with a roll of her eyes. Maybe it was the rain, but she started to get a bit irritated for some reason.
All she did was keep quiet for now as she crossed her arms and observed as the woman stood and tied her hair up.
The questions that were shot at the blonde man confused her. But all she could do was listen right now, forgetting all about her own unanswered questions. What did she mean? And why did she have such sharp fangs? Maybe she was a vampire of some sort? As the rain washed over and cleared the blood, she could finally see the sharp nails. Definitely has to be a vampire. She had studied a bunch of monsters in her day, as the job required to have some knowledge of the nasties she might come across.
But she soon snapped out of it when she was addressed. Or, more or less, her species was mentioned. That didn't alarm her much, but it sort of unnerved her. This was creepier than that dark seer that she had to fight that one time. Furrowing her brows, she looked the woman over, processing every single word she had said in the process.
Krystal had finally cleared her throat. "First off, I'm pretty far from home, I know."
"Second, you know, we're all armed here with really, really sharp weapons, there's a monster roaming around, as well as a demonic wizard, and everyone's on edge, and you're just going to come here, read our minds or something, and call everyone out like this? ....Wow. You have a lot of balls, miss. ....This is definitely a good first impression and it surely won't get you in trouble. And I'm sure you're creeping out that guy the most!" She gestured to The Hanged Man, shrugging a bit.
Surprisingly, she was rather nonchalant about all of this, and sarcasm was oozing in her tone. But she was pretty sure that everyone else around her was going to have a completely different reaction.
"....But in all seriousness, could you cut the crap, please? I'm here to kill whatever is causing this sort of thing and go home already."
All she did was keep quiet for now as she crossed her arms and observed as the woman stood and tied her hair up.
The questions that were shot at the blonde man confused her. But all she could do was listen right now, forgetting all about her own unanswered questions. What did she mean? And why did she have such sharp fangs? Maybe she was a vampire of some sort? As the rain washed over and cleared the blood, she could finally see the sharp nails. Definitely has to be a vampire. She had studied a bunch of monsters in her day, as the job required to have some knowledge of the nasties she might come across.
But she soon snapped out of it when she was addressed. Or, more or less, her species was mentioned. That didn't alarm her much, but it sort of unnerved her. This was creepier than that dark seer that she had to fight that one time. Furrowing her brows, she looked the woman over, processing every single word she had said in the process.
Krystal had finally cleared her throat. "First off, I'm pretty far from home, I know."
"Second, you know, we're all armed here with really, really sharp weapons, there's a monster roaming around, as well as a demonic wizard, and everyone's on edge, and you're just going to come here, read our minds or something, and call everyone out like this? ....Wow. You have a lot of balls, miss. ....This is definitely a good first impression and it surely won't get you in trouble. And I'm sure you're creeping out that guy the most!" She gestured to The Hanged Man, shrugging a bit.
Surprisingly, she was rather nonchalant about all of this, and sarcasm was oozing in her tone. But she was pretty sure that everyone else around her was going to have a completely different reaction.
"....But in all seriousness, could you cut the crap, please? I'm here to kill whatever is causing this sort of thing and go home already."
Calico smiled the widest possible turning to the confirmation he had just heard from the half dragon woman
"Well seems I might be getting in your way, how unacceptable to halt your quest for glory and bloodshed, by all means, allow me to clear the way and stand aside that you march forth whilst me and the lads cover your back... there's no way I'm going back to Morgan to get hanged..." pointed Calico inviting Krystalline to lead the way forward
"Well seems I might be getting in your way, how unacceptable to halt your quest for glory and bloodshed, by all means, allow me to clear the way and stand aside that you march forth whilst me and the lads cover your back... there's no way I'm going back to Morgan to get hanged..." pointed Calico inviting Krystalline to lead the way forward
((No problem!))
The Hanged Man's hand spasmed within the woman's deceptively tight grip. Rather than try to pull himself free, he lowered his shield to take the brunt of her strike. If it weren't for the slippery mud, he likely would have been knocked over, but as it was he leaned forward and slid backwards half a meter while still kneeling. He used his shield to help push himself back up to his feet.
Then came her verbal barrage, which the wanderer waited out. Several times he opened his mouth to reply, only to be bowled over by even more questions and comments. He glanced over at Krystalline when she addressed him, and let out a soft chuckle. "It seems she is a very curious person," he said to the half-dragon, not drawing his sword just yet, though he was ready to in an instant.
His eyes returned to the pale woman. He advanced several paces, his posture nonthreatening, in an attempt to hold her attention. Potentially this would give the others an opening to make a move. "I w-will indulge you with answers to your questions ..." He lifted his finger to indicate a catch. "... if you answer some of mine. As a show of good faith, I will answer first." His gauntleted hand settled, spread open, upon his breastplate. "You asked wh-what I am. I am just a man, mistress--a man chasing the sun. Now, your turn ... are you responsible for those people's deaths?"
The Hanged Man's hand spasmed within the woman's deceptively tight grip. Rather than try to pull himself free, he lowered his shield to take the brunt of her strike. If it weren't for the slippery mud, he likely would have been knocked over, but as it was he leaned forward and slid backwards half a meter while still kneeling. He used his shield to help push himself back up to his feet.
Then came her verbal barrage, which the wanderer waited out. Several times he opened his mouth to reply, only to be bowled over by even more questions and comments. He glanced over at Krystalline when she addressed him, and let out a soft chuckle. "It seems she is a very curious person," he said to the half-dragon, not drawing his sword just yet, though he was ready to in an instant.
His eyes returned to the pale woman. He advanced several paces, his posture nonthreatening, in an attempt to hold her attention. Potentially this would give the others an opening to make a move. "I w-will indulge you with answers to your questions ..." He lifted his finger to indicate a catch. "... if you answer some of mine. As a show of good faith, I will answer first." His gauntleted hand settled, spread open, upon his breastplate. "You asked wh-what I am. I am just a man, mistress--a man chasing the sun. Now, your turn ... are you responsible for those people's deaths?"
((OOC our sincere condolences for your loss, Strawberry. No problem with the RP, take your time, as much as required))
Upon hearing the question that The Hanged Man had just posed to the maiden, prince Merthyr paused still. His noble if naive nature had made him walk his way over to where the fallen maiden was being tended to by others already.
But... if she answered affirmatively to the crucial question, his heart would grow all the more tense. Her sharp fangs whilst deadly made her appear all the more attractive, a touch of danger that was ever so alluring for the young prince, all the more so when his eyes locked upon her lips unable to look away.
Vampire or not, Merthyr was a noble prince, of knightly courage and righteous principles, he would never dare strike a woman at all, no matter how murderous, nor could he let these rogues do so either. Alas he was a man too, and at an age where taking bride was expected off him, his mind was quickly becoming taken over by thoughts of courting this damsel and ... perhaps... take things a little further than decency might permit.
His father king Conrad would never agree to such a marriage between the crown prince and heir to the throne and a beauty of dark but... Sir Henry Morgan held his father's authority now... and he was far more dubious and far more easily persuaded, especially when interests were aligned, that man wanted power and wealth whilst Merthyr just now felt all he wanted was this flawless beauty.
He noticed a firm grip between The Hanged Man and the pale skinned damsel which made him grow a tense, quickly unsheathing his sword and coming closer to the pair, not of fear but purely of jealousy. How dare he touch the woman he had every intention to ask her out... how dare he talk to her in such friendly manner... was he trying to woe the girl for himself before the prince no less? thought Merthyr eyes narrowed at the short lived physical contact.
The blood stains upon her did not talk him out of coming close enough to hear the exchange of questions and answers between the knight and supposed damsel in distress, mostly because he was longing to her name, her sweet voice, which to him, would be as intoxicating as the finest of wines.
He made haste to be close to the group and before the woman could answr he did address the knight in a low voice for his benefit only, words that seeped jealousy all around and a ill veiled threat of trouble ahead if the knight did not watch his step and tongue
"You are to keep your distance, sir knight, any undue closeness between yourself and this fair damsel might not be lightly taken for I shall not suffer disrepute or dishonour of any kind to tarnish her least it be of my own doing... more deaths might follow otherwise and not at darkness hands" warned Merthyr
Whilst he was speaking to Sir Crow, close to his ear, his eyes were entirely locked on her face and that... that caused Aynor to open his eyes bewildered.
King Conrad was going to rip his head from his shoulders for sure if this vampire woman so much as licked the prince whilst the young foolish royal was travelling under his watch. Not only was the prince putting himself in direct danger but he was embracing it more than willingly judging by his body language.
Upon hearing the question that The Hanged Man had just posed to the maiden, prince Merthyr paused still. His noble if naive nature had made him walk his way over to where the fallen maiden was being tended to by others already.
But... if she answered affirmatively to the crucial question, his heart would grow all the more tense. Her sharp fangs whilst deadly made her appear all the more attractive, a touch of danger that was ever so alluring for the young prince, all the more so when his eyes locked upon her lips unable to look away.
Vampire or not, Merthyr was a noble prince, of knightly courage and righteous principles, he would never dare strike a woman at all, no matter how murderous, nor could he let these rogues do so either. Alas he was a man too, and at an age where taking bride was expected off him, his mind was quickly becoming taken over by thoughts of courting this damsel and ... perhaps... take things a little further than decency might permit.
His father king Conrad would never agree to such a marriage between the crown prince and heir to the throne and a beauty of dark but... Sir Henry Morgan held his father's authority now... and he was far more dubious and far more easily persuaded, especially when interests were aligned, that man wanted power and wealth whilst Merthyr just now felt all he wanted was this flawless beauty.
He noticed a firm grip between The Hanged Man and the pale skinned damsel which made him grow a tense, quickly unsheathing his sword and coming closer to the pair, not of fear but purely of jealousy. How dare he touch the woman he had every intention to ask her out... how dare he talk to her in such friendly manner... was he trying to woe the girl for himself before the prince no less? thought Merthyr eyes narrowed at the short lived physical contact.
The blood stains upon her did not talk him out of coming close enough to hear the exchange of questions and answers between the knight and supposed damsel in distress, mostly because he was longing to her name, her sweet voice, which to him, would be as intoxicating as the finest of wines.
He made haste to be close to the group and before the woman could answr he did address the knight in a low voice for his benefit only, words that seeped jealousy all around and a ill veiled threat of trouble ahead if the knight did not watch his step and tongue
"You are to keep your distance, sir knight, any undue closeness between yourself and this fair damsel might not be lightly taken for I shall not suffer disrepute or dishonour of any kind to tarnish her least it be of my own doing... more deaths might follow otherwise and not at darkness hands" warned Merthyr
Whilst he was speaking to Sir Crow, close to his ear, his eyes were entirely locked on her face and that... that caused Aynor to open his eyes bewildered.
King Conrad was going to rip his head from his shoulders for sure if this vampire woman so much as licked the prince whilst the young foolish royal was travelling under his watch. Not only was the prince putting himself in direct danger but he was embracing it more than willingly judging by his body language.
The vampire probably would’ve smiled at The Hanged Man, if not for Krystalline’s words. The woman’s curious grin had faded, her dark lips pulling into a tight line as she folded her arms and listened to her- but when The Hanged Man came in, talking about curiosity, she smiled warmly.
“I like asking questions, see. There’s so much to discover in a mortal world such as this, always changing and shifting. And you mortals are always so interesting, so many stories to be told....” She laughed a little; her voice mimicking the elegance behind Atropos’s, though hers was huskier, and if it could be compared to something physical, it would best be summed up by dark silk, draping over the words she spoke, slow and graceful.
Merthyr, however, seemed to surprise her. She blinked a little at him, and even tipped her head to the side out of curiosity. Again, the smile returned to her lips, and the woman walked forward without having answered The Hanged Man’s question, until she stood a few feet in front of Merthyr. She seemed to have a short attention span, though maybe that was thanks to this new curiosity, “And who are you? You talk very elegantly, you must be some kind of noble. And what’s this about tarnishing me?” She was shorter than him, though the young lady was curvaceous, and even she was confused by his behavior. Was this simply the way mortal men could be? How odd, to be so defensive of a killer. She couldn’t recall using any magic to manipulate him...perhaps this was just how young mortals were. It had been some time since she interacted with this kind, the men in the village were simply cattle to her. Food for slaughter. But this one was interesting, like the strange Knightly one in dark armor.
“Guilty of this?” Her red eyes flickered to The Hanged Man, and she chuckled, “To accuse a lady of such atrocities, and baseless at that—“ Her smile grew wider and she turned on her heel, to lean back against Merthyr. She was going to take full advantage of this strange young man- and his behavior piqued her interest. She would have to ask about it sometime, “I am guilty of much more than you’d think, kind sir. Much more than I am caring to admit, much more than humans could hope to explain.”
“My horse.” Atropos growled, from the back of the group. The vampire raised a brow, having now stepped away from Merthyr, “I sent my horse into the fog, and something...someone....killed it. Was it you? Your kind drink the blood of mortals, yes?”
Atropos had changed the direction of her blade now, from Calico to the strange woman, and was moving forward slowly. But the vampire only watched her for a moment, before advancing as well, “You would dare accuse me of drinking horses blood?” It seemed that, out of everything, this was what ticked the vampire off, “Please. No one in my family would dare disgrace our bodies with such a liquid. The body is a temple, little elf, you must take good care of it. Now. I did hear a horse coming into the fog...” her smile grew, “Perhaps I wanted it for myself?”
“I like asking questions, see. There’s so much to discover in a mortal world such as this, always changing and shifting. And you mortals are always so interesting, so many stories to be told....” She laughed a little; her voice mimicking the elegance behind Atropos’s, though hers was huskier, and if it could be compared to something physical, it would best be summed up by dark silk, draping over the words she spoke, slow and graceful.
Merthyr, however, seemed to surprise her. She blinked a little at him, and even tipped her head to the side out of curiosity. Again, the smile returned to her lips, and the woman walked forward without having answered The Hanged Man’s question, until she stood a few feet in front of Merthyr. She seemed to have a short attention span, though maybe that was thanks to this new curiosity, “And who are you? You talk very elegantly, you must be some kind of noble. And what’s this about tarnishing me?” She was shorter than him, though the young lady was curvaceous, and even she was confused by his behavior. Was this simply the way mortal men could be? How odd, to be so defensive of a killer. She couldn’t recall using any magic to manipulate him...perhaps this was just how young mortals were. It had been some time since she interacted with this kind, the men in the village were simply cattle to her. Food for slaughter. But this one was interesting, like the strange Knightly one in dark armor.
“Guilty of this?” Her red eyes flickered to The Hanged Man, and she chuckled, “To accuse a lady of such atrocities, and baseless at that—“ Her smile grew wider and she turned on her heel, to lean back against Merthyr. She was going to take full advantage of this strange young man- and his behavior piqued her interest. She would have to ask about it sometime, “I am guilty of much more than you’d think, kind sir. Much more than I am caring to admit, much more than humans could hope to explain.”
“My horse.” Atropos growled, from the back of the group. The vampire raised a brow, having now stepped away from Merthyr, “I sent my horse into the fog, and something...someone....killed it. Was it you? Your kind drink the blood of mortals, yes?”
Atropos had changed the direction of her blade now, from Calico to the strange woman, and was moving forward slowly. But the vampire only watched her for a moment, before advancing as well, “You would dare accuse me of drinking horses blood?” It seemed that, out of everything, this was what ticked the vampire off, “Please. No one in my family would dare disgrace our bodies with such a liquid. The body is a temple, little elf, you must take good care of it. Now. I did hear a horse coming into the fog...” her smile grew, “Perhaps I wanted it for myself?”
Merthyr swallowed hard at her words, not the admittance of guilt, that was not at all important, it was the soft intonation of her voice that made his body tingle and the fact she acknowledged him and then leaned into him, it made Merthyr all the more aware he was somewhat accepted by her, which made him pace towards her, fascinated, excited, his heart pounding harder than the rain ever could.
"I am crown prince Merthyr, heir to the throne, and entirely yours if you would have me. Pray tell me, my fair damsel, what is your name?" asked Merthyr this being the most critical question of the night. He needed to know if he wanted to ask permission from Morgan to marry her; he would need a name, any name.
"If you lack anything at all, you have but to ask and I will make sure it is delivered promptly as reasonably possible..." assured Merthyr coming over to her like a butterfly playfully following the flame
When he saw Atropos approach, blade to hand, he raised his own sword slowly ready to defend her, an arm hoping to tug the vampire behind him, protectively shielding her.
Merthyr was not about to be troubled on petty qualms over a missing horse, mindlessly waving Sir Lancelot to hand his royal steed to Atropos to quieten the woman up so he could focus on talking with the dark beauty that had stolen his heart and mind altogether
"She is no thief... you've no right to cut off her hand" muttered Merthyr "if... if your horse... ran off...then it is lost property and it is entirely appropriate for the new owner to do as she pleases with it. Take my steed and settle your debt and quarrel" informed Merthyr, turning and stretching his neck so his eyes gazed upon the vampire, a warm smile drawing upon his lips, letting out a soft long sigh mesmerized with this woman of darkness.
"Do you come from afar? I would be honoured if you would allow us to escort you home... that I may meet your father and ask permission to court you..." explained Merthyr quite forward about his honest intentions, causing his knights to gawk and blink.
There he was the prince of the realm having a liaison with the killer he was supposedly coming to kill and now, bringing his mighty knights and some more into the lion's den for no other reason than mistakenly staring at her for far too long.
Every man who had travelled enough knew not to stare at vampires or mermaids... how could Merthyr let himself be captivated like that still baffled Gawain and Lancelot who shot uneasy glances at each other and they then looked at The Hanged Man, the errand knight, for an indication on how to proceed.
"I am crown prince Merthyr, heir to the throne, and entirely yours if you would have me. Pray tell me, my fair damsel, what is your name?" asked Merthyr this being the most critical question of the night. He needed to know if he wanted to ask permission from Morgan to marry her; he would need a name, any name.
"If you lack anything at all, you have but to ask and I will make sure it is delivered promptly as reasonably possible..." assured Merthyr coming over to her like a butterfly playfully following the flame
When he saw Atropos approach, blade to hand, he raised his own sword slowly ready to defend her, an arm hoping to tug the vampire behind him, protectively shielding her.
Merthyr was not about to be troubled on petty qualms over a missing horse, mindlessly waving Sir Lancelot to hand his royal steed to Atropos to quieten the woman up so he could focus on talking with the dark beauty that had stolen his heart and mind altogether
"She is no thief... you've no right to cut off her hand" muttered Merthyr "if... if your horse... ran off...then it is lost property and it is entirely appropriate for the new owner to do as she pleases with it. Take my steed and settle your debt and quarrel" informed Merthyr, turning and stretching his neck so his eyes gazed upon the vampire, a warm smile drawing upon his lips, letting out a soft long sigh mesmerized with this woman of darkness.
"Do you come from afar? I would be honoured if you would allow us to escort you home... that I may meet your father and ask permission to court you..." explained Merthyr quite forward about his honest intentions, causing his knights to gawk and blink.
There he was the prince of the realm having a liaison with the killer he was supposedly coming to kill and now, bringing his mighty knights and some more into the lion's den for no other reason than mistakenly staring at her for far too long.
Every man who had travelled enough knew not to stare at vampires or mermaids... how could Merthyr let himself be captivated like that still baffled Gawain and Lancelot who shot uneasy glances at each other and they then looked at The Hanged Man, the errand knight, for an indication on how to proceed.
'Curious', my ass.
Krystal snorted at The Hanged Man's words, clearly not exactly convinced. "Honestly, I feel like I'm being personally invaded...." She glanced back at Calico. "And I'd love to lead you, but I'm not from around here. The rain isn't helping, either. It dampens my sense of smell, so I can't navigate too well either way."
Those were the last words she had said before falling silent, watching the events unfold in front of her. She observed the vampire in silence as she went towards the prince. Then she watched as Atropos had moved towards her and questioned about her horse. The vampire's answer was more or less.... Vague. She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but the vampire lady didn't seem to be all too honest. The prince definitely seemed to trust her though, for whatever insane reason he had for doing so. That made Krystal frown a bit.
"She's being way too suspicious." Krystal muttered under her breath. It really didn't add up. And on top of that, she hated when people couldn't just give a straight answer and instead, danced around questions with riddles and bull-crap like that.
Krystal snorted at The Hanged Man's words, clearly not exactly convinced. "Honestly, I feel like I'm being personally invaded...." She glanced back at Calico. "And I'd love to lead you, but I'm not from around here. The rain isn't helping, either. It dampens my sense of smell, so I can't navigate too well either way."
Those were the last words she had said before falling silent, watching the events unfold in front of her. She observed the vampire in silence as she went towards the prince. Then she watched as Atropos had moved towards her and questioned about her horse. The vampire's answer was more or less.... Vague. She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but the vampire lady didn't seem to be all too honest. The prince definitely seemed to trust her though, for whatever insane reason he had for doing so. That made Krystal frown a bit.
"She's being way too suspicious." Krystal muttered under her breath. It really didn't add up. And on top of that, she hated when people couldn't just give a straight answer and instead, danced around questions with riddles and bull-crap like that.
The Hanged Man glanced at Merthyr as the boy approached, but quickly turned his attention back to the vampire ... that is, until the prince began to whisper threats, close and harsh enough to make him shiver. Then the wayward knight craned his neck to peer at Merthyr's face, trying to tell if he was joking. He wasn't--he looked utterly spellbound by the woman in front of them. "My lord," he whispered, "keep hold of your senses. I've no intention of courting her."
After that attempt at placating the prince, he returned his eyes to he vampire. His blade remained at his side, but he shored up his grip on his shield. Her answer to his first question was agonizingly avoidant. "What about this fog?" he asked her. "Is it your doing? Perhaps an acquaintance of yours? Or, perhaps ... you are just as trapped as w-we are?"
Her spell over Merthyr seemed to be strengthening by the second, as he made excuses for her and even spoke of bringing her back to his father's court, something that would surely end poorly. Catching Lancelot's nervous glance, the once-knight ground his teeth and smacked Merthyr across the cheek with the back of his gauntleted hand. Hard enough to hurt and leave a bruise, but not hard enough to break any teeth. "Snap out of it," he hissed.
After that attempt at placating the prince, he returned his eyes to he vampire. His blade remained at his side, but he shored up his grip on his shield. Her answer to his first question was agonizingly avoidant. "What about this fog?" he asked her. "Is it your doing? Perhaps an acquaintance of yours? Or, perhaps ... you are just as trapped as w-we are?"
Her spell over Merthyr seemed to be strengthening by the second, as he made excuses for her and even spoke of bringing her back to his father's court, something that would surely end poorly. Catching Lancelot's nervous glance, the once-knight ground his teeth and smacked Merthyr across the cheek with the back of his gauntleted hand. Hard enough to hurt and leave a bruise, but not hard enough to break any teeth. "Snap out of it," he hissed.
“I don’t want your damned horse,” Atropos growled at him, but the vampire held onto Merthyr’s arm, holding it close to her chest and staying behind him. Her smile was coy, batting her pale eyelashes at him.
“I’m afraid I have no father to speak of, nor mother. Allow me to properly introduce myself,” the woman stepped away, though she made sure to watch them all carefully, “You May call me Lady Anke Nacht. My Father is...was the lord of this region, he and my mother however have met a rather...unfortunate end.” She gave a rather chilling smile, and something about it seemed to imply she had something to do with that ending.
“But never mind that.” Anke pointed at The Hanged Man, “You skipped my turn. It was my turn to ask a question, not yours. I won’t answ—“
When he smacked Merthyr, the woman seemed surprised, and yanked on Merthyr’s arm to pull him away- the look she gave The Hanged Man was that of a child, that didn’t want to share a toy. But in this case, the toy was the crown prince, and one she had snared with her new abilities it seemed. Truthfully, the vampire was young for her kind, and it almost seemed like she wasn’t fully aware of all of her abilities just yet. But she knew she had done something to the young man, and smiled coyly at The Hanged Man, “Striking the crown prince, how rude! There’s no reason to resort to violence.” She moved to hold Merthyr’s hand, and if able to, she would bring his knuckles to her mouth, holding his hand against her lips, and letting her fangs brush over his skin, “He’s only curious, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid I have no father to speak of, nor mother. Allow me to properly introduce myself,” the woman stepped away, though she made sure to watch them all carefully, “You May call me Lady Anke Nacht. My Father is...was the lord of this region, he and my mother however have met a rather...unfortunate end.” She gave a rather chilling smile, and something about it seemed to imply she had something to do with that ending.
“But never mind that.” Anke pointed at The Hanged Man, “You skipped my turn. It was my turn to ask a question, not yours. I won’t answ—“
When he smacked Merthyr, the woman seemed surprised, and yanked on Merthyr’s arm to pull him away- the look she gave The Hanged Man was that of a child, that didn’t want to share a toy. But in this case, the toy was the crown prince, and one she had snared with her new abilities it seemed. Truthfully, the vampire was young for her kind, and it almost seemed like she wasn’t fully aware of all of her abilities just yet. But she knew she had done something to the young man, and smiled coyly at The Hanged Man, “Striking the crown prince, how rude! There’s no reason to resort to violence.” She moved to hold Merthyr’s hand, and if able to, she would bring his knuckles to her mouth, holding his hand against her lips, and letting her fangs brush over his skin, “He’s only curious, isn’t he?”
Merthyr briefly snapped out of the spell when The Hanged Man struck him down but no sooner she brought him close to her, it quickly enkindled the feelings he had towards her all the more so.
"I assure you my lady that the knight... will pay... not just for daring to strike royalty which... is regretful... but for daring to upset you in the least, these... commoners... are beneath our expectations.
Now, if you have no father that is... all the better for us my dearest, saves us having to execute him for interference. If only we disposed of mine as easily... nothing would stand in our way.
Fortunately, Sir Henry Morgan, the governor, is not my father, he will gladly see us marry for the sake of a few lands and golden coins or his neck... whichever is more convincing to him" assured Merthyr with a lustful look, eyes red as the spell took greater hold, considering her already his rather than the other way round
Lancelot gawked at Merthyr's comments..
"Killing the king... and the governor... that is... treason... surely!" gasped Lancelot horrified looking at The Hanged Man wide eyed.
"He is out of his mind" murmured Gwaine looking at The Hanged Man wearily. If the prince commanded it, they had to take down this roaming knight but at the same time... he was not sure which side was actually standing by the law given the newly made comments. Perhaps they ought to restrain the prince instead.
At this point the line between good and evil was blurred and it was rather difficult for righteous knights to proceed with certainty in their actions. They were sworn to obey royalty but equally so to defend the king, they were expected to follow the prince's orders but equally to protect the innocent and the righteous like The Hanged Man.
Aynor took a step back in disgust "Whoa whoa whoa... hold on there. I came to fetch gold, not a charge of high treason" gasped equally horrified that the prince could share such thoughts so casually and openly.
Blackbeard on the other hand was quite happy to see a change of regime, perhaps, with a younger more foolish king, pillaging could become the order of the day instead.
"Well... for a fee... Conrad could meet a frightful end for sure. He is but a mortal man after all... how much is in this then?" asked Edward Teach running calculations on possible bounties fit for a king's head and rubbing his hands greedily
"I assure you my lady that the knight... will pay... not just for daring to strike royalty which... is regretful... but for daring to upset you in the least, these... commoners... are beneath our expectations.
Now, if you have no father that is... all the better for us my dearest, saves us having to execute him for interference. If only we disposed of mine as easily... nothing would stand in our way.
Fortunately, Sir Henry Morgan, the governor, is not my father, he will gladly see us marry for the sake of a few lands and golden coins or his neck... whichever is more convincing to him" assured Merthyr with a lustful look, eyes red as the spell took greater hold, considering her already his rather than the other way round
Lancelot gawked at Merthyr's comments..
"Killing the king... and the governor... that is... treason... surely!" gasped Lancelot horrified looking at The Hanged Man wide eyed.
"He is out of his mind" murmured Gwaine looking at The Hanged Man wearily. If the prince commanded it, they had to take down this roaming knight but at the same time... he was not sure which side was actually standing by the law given the newly made comments. Perhaps they ought to restrain the prince instead.
At this point the line between good and evil was blurred and it was rather difficult for righteous knights to proceed with certainty in their actions. They were sworn to obey royalty but equally so to defend the king, they were expected to follow the prince's orders but equally to protect the innocent and the righteous like The Hanged Man.
Aynor took a step back in disgust "Whoa whoa whoa... hold on there. I came to fetch gold, not a charge of high treason" gasped equally horrified that the prince could share such thoughts so casually and openly.
Blackbeard on the other hand was quite happy to see a change of regime, perhaps, with a younger more foolish king, pillaging could become the order of the day instead.
"Well... for a fee... Conrad could meet a frightful end for sure. He is but a mortal man after all... how much is in this then?" asked Edward Teach running calculations on possible bounties fit for a king's head and rubbing his hands greedily
The Hanged Man muttered something that sounded a bit like "getting too old for this" when the prince fell right back under the vampire's spell, even more deeply than before. His treasonous utterings were mostly ignored as drivel. Given that the knights were staring at him, the Hanged Man jabbed a finger towards Merthyr. "W-Well, you lot? Can't you see he's ensorcelled. Get him away from her." He glanced at Atropos and Krystalline as well, hoping that they would assist.
The once-knight rounded on the vampire again, opening his arms and trying to hold her attention. The rain still pelted against his cheeks and breastplate. "Come now. Am I unworthy of your full attention, my lady? And aye, he is curious--I will be so kind as to not count that as your question. Go on--ask me anything you wish."
The once-knight rounded on the vampire again, opening his arms and trying to hold her attention. The rain still pelted against his cheeks and breastplate. "Come now. Am I unworthy of your full attention, my lady? And aye, he is curious--I will be so kind as to not count that as your question. Go on--ask me anything you wish."
All that talk about treason made her a bit more alarmed. This wasn't good. Not at all. Before she was a bit on edge, now, this was a serious situation. Now she remembered how much she really disliked vampires. Krystal cracked her knuckles, then approached the vampire, a somewhat fierce expression on her face.
"Alright, now move away from him. You're really overstepping your boundaries now." She told her firmly. "Why don't you talk to us instead? I thought you liked being curious."
"Alright, now move away from him. You're really overstepping your boundaries now." She told her firmly. "Why don't you talk to us instead? I thought you liked being curious."
At first, Anke was on edge. When The Hanged Man began to try and get her attention, she eyed him suspiciously, obviously on edge now. She clutched Merthyr’s arm, holding tight to him, her red eyes flicking around as she looked for an escape route. But when Krystalline approached, she stiffened, baring her fangs and letting out a low hiss- the fog around her and Merthyr began to thicken, just the faintest, and it was clear now she must’ve been the one making it, “Keep your distance, you churl.”
She had, however, not payed attention to Atropos. The elf had managed to creep up behind the pair, and roughly grabbed Anke, yanking on her arm and jerking her away from Merthyr with all her might. The young vampire let out a shrill shriek, that sounded like Merthyr’s name, and swung her nails out to slash across the elven woman’s chest; it connected and Atropos staggered back, clutching her wound as Anke rushed to return to Merthyr’s side.
“Merthyr, they’re going to kill me.” She gasped, looking up at him; how odd of her, to suddenly rely on him so. But with these newfound powers (consuming the blood of pure bloods was known to increase another’s power), she couldn’t venture in public anymore. It meant no leaving the woods, no venturing to the neighboring kingdoms. Anke was practically Immortal, she wouldn’t be able to survive never leaving this valley and this town. It would drive her utterly mad. For her, Merthyr would serve as protection and company, while she worked to regain control over these new and much stronger powers. She truly loved stories, and she knew a man like a Prince would have plenty of tales to tell. And when she had control again, perhaps he could bring her on adventures- she had never ventured far, surely he knew more of the outside world and kingdoms. They were rather childish wants, but then again, she seemed like a rather childish young lady, “Y-You must run with me. The woods. They won’t be able to navigate as well as I can. My horse should be waiting.”
Atropos was on the ground, the elf clutching the gashes across her chest, having curled up on herself and using her hands to stop the bleeding (though it did little, What with how long the wounds were), “S-She’s going to run!” Atropos gasped, “Someone, Fire! Get fire!” But with this rain, there was little that could be done with a fire.
She had, however, not payed attention to Atropos. The elf had managed to creep up behind the pair, and roughly grabbed Anke, yanking on her arm and jerking her away from Merthyr with all her might. The young vampire let out a shrill shriek, that sounded like Merthyr’s name, and swung her nails out to slash across the elven woman’s chest; it connected and Atropos staggered back, clutching her wound as Anke rushed to return to Merthyr’s side.
“Merthyr, they’re going to kill me.” She gasped, looking up at him; how odd of her, to suddenly rely on him so. But with these newfound powers (consuming the blood of pure bloods was known to increase another’s power), she couldn’t venture in public anymore. It meant no leaving the woods, no venturing to the neighboring kingdoms. Anke was practically Immortal, she wouldn’t be able to survive never leaving this valley and this town. It would drive her utterly mad. For her, Merthyr would serve as protection and company, while she worked to regain control over these new and much stronger powers. She truly loved stories, and she knew a man like a Prince would have plenty of tales to tell. And when she had control again, perhaps he could bring her on adventures- she had never ventured far, surely he knew more of the outside world and kingdoms. They were rather childish wants, but then again, she seemed like a rather childish young lady, “Y-You must run with me. The woods. They won’t be able to navigate as well as I can. My horse should be waiting.”
Atropos was on the ground, the elf clutching the gashes across her chest, having curled up on herself and using her hands to stop the bleeding (though it did little, What with how long the wounds were), “S-She’s going to run!” Atropos gasped, “Someone, Fire! Get fire!” But with this rain, there was little that could be done with a fire.
((Gonna let Merthyr post before I go again! 
))
))
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