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Thread: The Mystic Isles [IC]

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    Default The Mystic Isles [IC]

    His hair, black and streaked with gray, was wild and unkempt, and his clothes, while clean, were patched rags. Still, he wore them as if they were the finest of clothes suitable for a king. Smoked lenses covered his eyes, it was clear by the staff he carried that he tapped on the road in front of him and his hand resting on the shoulder of a young girl that he was blind.

    Today, he was heading towards the market, and as the pair approached, he could hear that today, the din of the crowd was louder.

    "Jenny," he asked, "What do you see?"
    "There are a lot of people near the board, Blind Willie," she said, glancing back at him.
    "It must be something if so many are interested. Do you have your pin?"
    "Yes, I have it here," Jenny replied. From her sleeve, the girl drew out a hat pin, long and sharp.
    "Good girl. Go to the board and see what has their attention. And don't be afraid to use that."

    She smiled slyly as she darted away, slipping into the crowd.

    He heard moments later two yelps of pain and cursing, quickly swallowed up by others talking. At long last, he heard another yelp, and within a minute Jenny was by his side, sliding the pin back into its usual spot on her sleeve.

    "It's a message from the regent," she told him. "Says that to keep order in West Riding, he's auth... auth...."
    "Authorizing," Blind Willie nodded.
    "Authorizing parties to take up arms and search for the miscreants themselves, but they have to get a license from the sheriff for five shillings."

    "Interesting," the beggar said, his mouth quirked into a slight smirk. "Please lead me to my spot, then I have some errands for the chorus I want you to pass out."

    Taking up his right hand, she placed it on her shoulder and lead him to the fountain.

    "Now," he said, sitting down, "I want you and the rest of the chorus to find three people. Brother Revon, wherever he's roosting; Eleace Kearian, who's probably in one of the inns, and have someone waiting at Nanny Shan's table for the elf woman Belladonna."
    "Is she the one with the raven feathers in her hair?"
    "That's what people say," he admitted. "If you can get them here before the noon bell, I'll give you a shilling."

    Jenny's eyes lit up. "A whole shilling?"
    "If by the noon bell, yes. But don't try to do it all yourself. Tell the others they'll get threepence for each they bring."
    "They'll be here!" the beggar girl said, darting away.

    "Well, this should be interesting indeed," Blind Willie mused.
    Spoiler: いいいいいいいい √Ăłł Єѵł いいいいいいいい 

  2. #2
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    Eleace played her guitar at one of the inns as some of the other patrons got her a nice mug of some softer drink and tossed her some coins.
    Her red hair pulled back to show her slightly pointed ears and her lovely freckled face.
    She didn't wear skirts, but rather a nice pair of breeches that were tight enough to show some of her curve, but not enough to prevent any sort of movement.

    At the end of her song, she started picking up the coins that had been been tossed and took her now filled mug to the small bar.
    She had come from town to town under the guise of raising money for her sick father that would be dead in a few months if she didn't raise enough money to pay someone to treat him.
    She put on a hopeful look, but let her sadness seep through.
    Her father wasn't really sick, but she was a little sad with her life. But some people pried a little too much, and asked about the amazing chest that followed her around.
    She always said it was a gift from her deceased grandfather.
    They also eyed the sword at her side with a bit of suspicion, though she doubted they thought she could use it. Some would ask about it and she'd tell them it was a great tool to scaring people off.
    The one who will save you, the one who will stick by you, the one that will never back down,
    or maybe the one that finally brings you to your knees and makes you realize what kind of person you are.
    Wastelander

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  3. #3
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    Deep in the moors, a shack leaned precariously. Mist curled perpetually around the wooden supports. Lanterns cast an orange glow through the fog, lighting the way for any travelers or townsfolk seeking the witch. From inside the shack, clattering noises could be heard. The clinking of bottles and jars, wispy dry sounds of leaves being shifted, and creaking footsteps danced around inside the shack.

    On the inside, the shack seemed just as precarious as the outside. Every available surface was covered in all assortment of items, both familiar and strange. Shelves lined the walls, housing jars and bottles of herbs, strange liquids, and spell component. One large jar sitting on the end of a shelf was filled with animal eyes, staring in every direction. Books also lined the shelves, in colorful bindings. Some were old, others new. A few seemed to be only keeping together by hope and a bit of magic. A broom leaned against the wall by a window, a simple thing of elm and twigs. But the broom had an odd sheen to it, like there was more than meets the eye.

    As for the witch herself, she was bustling around the shack, grabbing her tinctures and salves and busily cramming them into a bag. She lifted a round, squat jar full of mint-green lotion, opened the lid, sniffed it, and nodded. Into the sack it went. Pacing briefly, she looked around the shack once more. Seemingly satisfied, she mumbled something under her breath, and the broom sprang to life. It zoomed to her outstretched hand, hovering horizontally at waist height. She walked out the door with it, eyes darting to the moor for any travelers or the regent’s posses. Nothing out there but frogs and a lazily blinking crocodile, who slipped below the water.

    Swinging her legs over the handle, she muttered something else, and the broom shot into the sky, her with it. It sped over the canopy of the swamp, startling birds. A barred owl glared at her as she went past and she winced. It took perhaps 20 minutes for her to reach the edge of the moor astride the broom, and another 10 to the edge of town. The broom slowed, and almost dumped her on the ground. Dusting off her knees, she admonished the broom. The elm handle almost seemed to laugh, before she uttered the magic word for shrink. It turned into barely more than a toothpick, no longer than her index finger.

    She noticed the villagers staring at her, neither kindly nor unkindly. It was the kind of stare you gave to a woman who had appeared suddenly and done a bit of magic. She cleared her throat.

    “Hullo.” As if breaking a spell, the villagers went back to their work. This always happened when she came to town, and she had grown to expect it. Even the children clutching their mothers’ aprons as she walked past, hiding in the folds of fabric as if she would suddenly transform into a great beast and eat them. She strode through the crowd toward the center of town, toward the market. She found an empty space and set up her wares, happily accepting coin for her creations. It always went this way, too. All week she would make them, then at the end of the week take them to market. Then she would buy the things she needed and head home.

    She had scarcely set up when she felt a pair of eyes on her. This was not unusual, but she looked anyways. She was met with a child staring intently at her. Also not unusual. She waved them over.

    “Hello little one. Can I help you? Ointments for your mother, salves for your sister?”

  4. #4
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    The sun broke through the clouds to the crowd below, the morning men heading to work, and the patrons of the night finally able to close up shop. Giving a smirk to the simple folk, Revon flitted the silver coins between his fingers, knowing a few men who would be missing their pocket change. He smiled while standing, stretching to his full height. He could feel joints pop and roll as he moved to the edge of the building, eyes watching the people as he slipped down to the alley, his landing muffled the debris lining the ground. He could still smell the sweat of hard run horses and oxen, having moved behind his favorite tavern while he was slipping free of the night guards. While he was certain he wouldn’t be caught, the night was when he prowled, and when the guards were the heaviest. It would not be wise to be careless at the end of the chase.

    “Ah, Revon, glad to see you alive this morning.” The local matron of the tavern asked while the man slipped inside the room, a pleasant smile as her workers hustled about the people, handing food and drink to the customers of the tavern. He smiled, greeting her with a warm hug and a quick tease before pulling away, avoiding the heavy hand she used on him.

    “Of course I’m alive. Would you have it any other way?” He responded in kind, dancing playfully out of her reach, despite the womans disapproval of his actions. They had played this game many times over, as Revon had been one of the more reliable men to deal with those who would skip out on their meals, and was good for a pair of muscles when needed. He in return was given a shelter to his own, though it was one of many he employed. Matron Abigails was just his favorite to go to, as her food was some of the better. The staff being easy on the eyes was only a small bonus to it all.

    “Here, for the drunkard last night.” Revon spoke as he flicked a silver coin over to her, catching her unaware while he snagged a few pieces of bread and an apple, scurrying into the main room to blend with the crowd. He was a regular at the place, and none ever paid him mind, other than to avoid him when there was trouble, or a foul wind about him. Revon settled into the bench, starting on his meal as people bustled about the place, watching them move about, before a much small set of eyes caught him.

    “Ah, Brother Revon!” A child called to him, the young man bobbing his way through the crowd, drawing some attention to him. He stood, covering the last of the distance with ease. If one of the choir was hunting him, it meant two things. Willie was summoning him, or willie was dead. Standing between them, he placed a hand on the childs shoulders and steered him out the room, handing him the remaining slices of apple he had yet to finish.

    “I assume father is wanting to talk with me? Doesn’t he know I need my sleep as well.” Revon chuckled aloud as he moved into the morning streets, letting the boy lead the way slowly.


    "Even Dreams, can be a nightmare"
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  5. #5
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    The boy paused at the entrance to check the carving he carried, then scanned the crowd - and paused wide-eyed when he caught sight of Eleace at the bar. Alan glanced down at the carving, then back at her before tucking it away in his jerkin. If he didn't return it, his threepence reward would go to replacing it.

    Eyeing the others carefully, he weaved his way over to the warlock.

    "M'dam Kearian?" he asked, tugging on his forelock. "The Father sent me, he is at the fountain in the market. He asks if you would please speak with him? It is important."

    He smiled, but he was worried. Why did he need to see this woman? And why someplace as public as the fountain?

    = = = = =

    Jenny stared curiously at the elf, then her eyes grew wide as she realized Belladonna was speaking to her.

    "No, thank you m'dam," she said. The Father said courtesy was very important in life. "I've been asked to bring you to The Father, he's down by the fountain."

    She pointed down the wide road, then frowned up at her, the curiosity just bubbling inside her. "Do you know him?"

    = = = = =

    "I don't know, the Father said if I bring you, I can get threepence," Justus replied, the awe in his voice at talking with Revon. His aquiline nose and sandy hair betrayed his Amorian blood. "He's at the fountain this morning. He's also asked two women to meet as well."

    The small boy glanced over at Revon gravely. "Is he trying to get you married, do you think?"
    Last edited by Enigma; 03-31-2021 at 01:54 AM.
    Spoiler: いいいいいいいい √Ăłł Єѵł いいいいいいいい 

  6. #6
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    "Hmm?" Eleace looked over to find the young boy.

    "The Father?" she said quizically, "Are you refering to a priest... or someone else?" she asked the young man.
    She was a little sceptical. Why would a holy man want to see her unless he was of Azagi, or a con man. Well, it would be interesting to con a con, but she wasn't sure which it was. But a priest of Azagi might as well be a con man as well. there probably wasn't much difference besides the motive.

    "Never mind. The fountain you said?" she asked him. After recieving an answer, she finished up the last of her drink, made sure of her guitar and sword, and checked some of her hidden daggers.
    She batted her eyes at him a little, wretching on the inside, and gave a sweat "Mind accompanying me? I'd hate to get lost."
    He was a bit young, but she learned quickly, and heard from her sisters, that boys like women about as much as any man, and may find an excuse to get close. Somtimes it helped to get one. If this fellow wasn't up to some shady buisness though, well... she wasn't sure what he'd be doing. Of course this is an erend for this 'Father,' but nothing was clear. She'd just have to wait and find out.
    The one who will save you, the one who will stick by you, the one that will never back down,
    or maybe the one that finally brings you to your knees and makes you realize what kind of person you are.
    Wastelander

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  7. #7
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    Wynzara strode into the market, her years as a baronets daughter allowing her to move with more confidence than she actually felt. Today, her master, Dane the Faceless One, had sprung one of his characteristic spontaneous tasks on her.

    She liked having the opportunity to prepare and to be smart in how she went about things, and to her that meant having some lead time to prepare. Master Dane was not the kind of master to give lead time. He expected her obedience, even if it meant causing herself significant extra work because she had to drop whatever she was doing to come attend to what he wanted. He was the Master after all, she was only the apprentice. After a turbulent first few years with her master, she had finally gotten him to agree to the compromise of giving her one full day a week where she could do tasks that let her make preparations her way without being interrupted, and while that didnt give her the prep time she wanted for everything her master might ask her do, it did at least let her stay prepared for the most common things he wanted.

    In one regard, what hed asked her to do today was no different from many of the other tasks he gave her - he wanted her to run an errand for him. What was different was that the errand was no simple pick-up-an-item-and-return or a message pick-up/delivery task. Rather, she was going to have to have to travel with someone to get the item her master wanted. Master Dane had indicated it was time for her to stretch her wings, magically speaking, and she was assuming this task would do that.

    Blind Willy, she thought to herself. Ive seen him around - his smoked lenses are hard to mistake. But Ive never spoken to him before except for a few words.

    She covered the length of the marketplace and was on her way back to where shed entered before she finally spotted the old man with his unkempt grey-streaked hair, ragged clothing, and walking cane. Walking up to him, she asked, Excuse me, youre Blind Willy, right? Im Master Dane the Faceless Ones apprentice, Wynzara, and he told me to talk to you about a particular errand he wants done. He implied you would know what he wants, and that you would have some instructions for me.

    She then waited patiently for the old man to respond.

  8. #8
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    "The Father is The Father," the boy replied with a slight quizzical smile to Eleace. She hadn't heard of him? And yet he wanted her. Weird. "I can take you to him, yes!"

    = = = = =

    "Ah, yes, he said he would be sending his top student," Blind Willie smiled as Wynzara introduced herself.

    He patted the fountain on his right. "Sit beside an old man, child. I don't bite."

    Blind Willie sighed. If only he was younger...

    "Your master blamed me for the theft at first, did he mention that? I admitted to him that had I known he had such a thing, I would have definitely taken an interest, but even a man such as myself have my limitations. How was I to know he had a dragon's egg? Or even where it was kept?"

    "So I asked him if he had let go of any people, recently? Lo and behold, he had, a serf named Stewart," he sighed, shaking his head ruefully. "Truly, burglary should only be done by the professionals. We were able to trace his steps out of the city, but how can anyone trace anyone across the moors? But we did find him eventually - dead, with his body lying in a crack in the moors, and us no wiser as to who had stolen his egg."

    "So we watched the fish markets and found someone was buying up all the fish they could get their hands on. Someone is trying to hatch the egg and to prepare for it's arrival. But how to get in? As soon as they see someone walking near them, they're sure to close up - and then the regent gives us a free pass! Chartering parties to check for all the monsters you hear about. So now we can have people on the moors without them getting too suspicious! And perhaps a reason to be knocking on their door all innocent-like?"

    He chuckled.

    "Fate has given us an opportunity to retrieve it, so I've summoned a few people who should be able to help us."
    Spoiler: いいいいいいいい √Ăłł Єѵł いいいいいいいい 

  9. #9
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    Eleace followed the young man out and too the fountain where she saw an old blind man talking to another woman. And elf. Ugh.
    Her few interactions with elves left a bit of a bitter tast in her mouth as some seemed to look down on her. And her non present elven father didn't help much.
    She mentally prepared herself for the scorn she was doubtless going to recieve from this woman if that blind man was supposed to be this 'father' this boy was talking about. It seemed like it was.
    Well, at least a few weeks of practice after leaving home had let her get her story straight.

    She just heard the words "able to help us out" when she reached the pair at the fountain.
    She waited for the boy to introduce her since she didn't want to be rude, but she was eager to get this over with.
    She tried to give an hair of innocent calm as she walked up and waited.
    The one who will save you, the one who will stick by you, the one that will never back down,
    or maybe the one that finally brings you to your knees and makes you realize what kind of person you are.
    Wastelander

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  10. #10
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    The ways of people in Harrow’s Gate were different from those of Elves in Inis Ealga, her home. Elves spoke to others, but there was always a certain physical distance they maintained, unless they were with close family or close friends. But these other races got much closer to each other, even for ordinary conversations with strangers. Still, Wynzara had left her Elven home in order to study her magic, and these other races were the ones she lived among now. She had no regrets over leaving. And if she wanted to be trusted here, she needed to make an effort to do things their way. So she took a seat next to Blind Willy, as he’d asked. As she sat, it became clear to anyone observing her that what appeared to be the long skirt she was wearing was actually divided down the middle, like she had separate skirts on each leg that flowed together to look like a regular skirt whenever she stood up.

    The Master had and lost a dragon’s egg? No wonder he didn’t say much!

    Chuckling at him, she said, “Master Dane was silent about the details of this task. About all he told me was that it was extended pick-up task and I’d be meeting you, then traveling to get it.”

    She glanced up at the red-headed woman and the child who had just walked up. To Blind Willy she said, “I think some of the help you were speaking of just arrived.”

    Smiling at the woman and meeting her eyes, she said, “I am Wynzara, apprentice mage of the line of Miranda. I assume you are here to help with Blind Willy’s task?” Wynzara wasn’t sure what this half-Elf had to offer, but she decided that if her Master trusted Blind Willy, she would trust Blind Willy’s choices of who could help. For the time being, at least. If they had to go tracking something across the moors, she herself certainly wouldn’t have any aid to offer.

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