SUMMER

Angkar: Wet season. Precipitation is common during the late afternoon and evening hours. Vegetation grows significantly during the summer, but flooding is a danger due to the monsoons that ravage the country. The rainforest sees evenly distributed rainfall throughout the season.

Ashoka: Desert: Extremely hot and dry. Violent, heavy downpours following long dryspells. Jungle: Hot and humid with frequent, violent rainstorms.

Morrim: Relatively hot and dry, but with a chance of thunderstorms from time to time. The heat may cause forest fires.

Soto: Hot and humid, tree cover is dense while ground growth is restricted. Thunderstorms see the most amount of rainfall during the season, and it can be very windy. On occasion, there are flash floods that can destroy homes and farms built on flood plains.

ANNOUNCEMENTS

March 30th, 2018 As you might have noticed, Elenlond has changed hands and is now under new management! If you have any questions, please direct them to DaringRaven! As for the rest of the announcements, including a season change, you can find them over here at the following link!

January 16, 2018 As you might have noticed, Elenlond has a new skin, all thanks to Mel! Don't forget to check out the new OTMs as well!

December 2, 2017 Winter has settled on Elenlond, bringing sleep for some and new life for others.

September 26, 2017 With the belated arrival of autumn come some interesting developments: new OTMs, a Town Crier and the release of the Elly Awards winners!

July 14, 2017 After a bit of forum clean-up, Elly Awards season has arrived! Head on over to make your nominations!

May 31, 2017 Summer has arrived and so has activity check! That's not all though – we also have some new OTMs for you and some staff changes!


WHAT IS ELENLOND?

Elenlond is an original free-form medieval fantasy RPG set on the continent of Soare and the Scattered Isles, which are located to the south in the Sea of Diverging Waters. The four chief nations of the western side of the world—Ashoka in northern Soare, Soto in western Soare, Morrim in eastern Soare, and Angkar, the largest of the Scattered Isles—continue to experience growth and prosperity since the fall of the Mianorite gods, although power struggles within the countries—or outside of them—continue to ensue.


QUICK TIDBITS

  • We accept any member who wants to RP here;
  • We are an intermediate-level RPG;
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  • CURRENT EVENTS

    Angkar: To honour the reinvigoration of the ancient city of Mondrágon, the majestic Queen Eulalia has permitted the opening of a Coliseum where people from around the world and all walks of life can test their combat skills against one another. Many have already done battle in search of honour, glory, prizes and money.

    Ashoka: In an otherwise peaceful times, Ashokans are beset with the relatively minor inconveniences of wandering undead and occasionally-aggressive giant rock worms. There has also been some controversy over the recent re-legalisation of human sacrifice.

    Morrim: Rumour has it that Emperor Leofric de Hollemark is mustering forces for a war. Though the threat from Soto’s forests has passed, the forces previously employed in watching the forest now linger at the border. Rumours also circulate of a small group that has been dispatched to make contact with the tribes of the Do’suul Mountains.

    Soto: The Sotoans have defeated the fey and liberated themselves from Méadaigh’s oppression! Preliminary efforts have been made at rebuilding the city of Madrid, which had been captured at the beginning of the war. However, the Sotoans are hindered from recovery famine. Méadaigh’s magic caused summer to persist in the Erth’netora Forest through the winter. Her power has been withdrawn and the plants die as if preparing for winter – even though it is now summer. The Sotoans must sustain off what food they can get, what creatures they can kill and what can be imported into the city from Morrim and Angkar.

    For a fuller description of our most recent events, check out our most recent edition of The Town Crier!

    daringraven
    Administrator
    Qayin Graves
    SHADOW
    Supporting Admin.

    Kestrel Sumner (Shadow)
    Kindle Blackheath
    Orion de Lacey
    Sinadryn Arsydian
    Welcome to our home, a world in which anything can happen. From sprawling deserts and vast forests to massive volcanoes and luscious hot springs, Soare and the Scattered Isles are beautiful places just waiting to be explored. For the brave and the bold or the cautious and the wary, creatures of all kinds roam the earth, looking for adventure or for a place to call their own. Species of all kinds - the well-known and the unknown - thrive here, though not always in harmony.

    Elenlond is an original medieval fantasy RPG with a world that's as broad as it is unique. Calling on characters of all kinds, the sky's the limit in a world where boundaries are blurred and the imagination runs rampant. Restrictions are limited and members are encouraged to embrace their creativity, to see where they can go and what they can do. It's no longer just text on a page - it becomes real.

    Enter Our World

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    Kotsutsubo; "funerary urn"; closed
    Topic Started: Jan 24 2017, 06:09 PM (296 Views)
    Sara
    Member Avatar
    ~Hail, Mysteria -- I shield my eyes...~

    ((TW: The entire thread; gross death scenes, other disturbing content, and some language.))

    The town of Kilning wasn't a large settlement, but it was among the most well-to-do in Morrim's countryside, as far from the capital as it was. It struck Sara as like a town in a fairytale, at first: it was organized, only as busy or bustling as it needed to be, the poor were well taken care of, and it was clean -- after the mess of Orl'kabbar, Kilning's calm was something the wandering junior shaman couldn't pass up, and it was something she felt she needed. Bughunter definitely needed it.

    Her horse clip-clopped on the cobbled stones behind her. The day was crisp, but sunny, painting the wood-and-stone houses in spring tones and slashes of shadow. The town itself sloped, starting on a plateau and the busier business district, dipping down to the quieter residential districts, then rising far up and away, its high hill crested with the manor of the ruling lords here, the Kilning family. It all looked positively like a painting, and while she found this just slightly obnoxious, it was a pleasant change, even if it did feel somewhat strange. Somewhat... plastic. Put on.

    Or maybe she was just used to shitty towns and corrupt cities. She halted off to the side for a moment, allowing other walkers past, and adjusted a few straps on one of the saddlebags. Out popped the endearing head of the very small Bughunter, followed quickly by the rest of the cat. With a grateful, excited series of chirps, she leapt down to the ground and darted off in search of something to chase, or children to beg scraps from, and Sara tugged Tzephra's reins again. It didn't take long to find a stable: the people in Kilning were friendly and open, if unfortunately very chatty.

    "What brings you here?" The stablehand huffed, helping Sara unstrap her belongings, "Kilning isn't really on the way to any place."

    "Just travel," She replied with a smile. "It is a pretty hard-to-find place, isn't it? I like to think I know Morrim fairly well by now but I've only just stumbled across your town now. It's markedly nicer than almost everywhere else in the province, barring the capital itself."

    He laughed pleasantly. "Well, thanks: we try to keep it civil and peaceable here. The Kilnings do a good job of keeping the place clean and well-provided for, and we've never really had a problem with crime since it's such a small settlement. Most folks here can read and write, too."

    "Impressive." She offered, organizing her things so that she might more easily carry them back to the inn. She didn't want help -- help usually meant talking, and while she still had as many words she found that she just didn't have a whole lot to say to small talk and casual conversation. She'd begun reserving her words for bigger things. All the same, the stablehand was being ever so kind, it felt wrong not to reward him at least with a bit of chat. "It struck me as a fairy-tale town, but now I'm convinced."

    "And not a single dragon to demand sacrifices," He grinned, unsaddling Tzephra. The mare shifted happily as the last of her burden was lifted. Sara smiled.

    "I guess you've heard the fairy-tale comparison before?"

    "Aye, from my smallest daughter. Says Kilning looks like the pictures from her storybooks."

    "She's a mind after me, then, I thought the same thing. How old is she?"

    "Four."

    "Ah, well she's probably smarter then."

    He laughed. "Here, I'll help you with these, it's a bit of a walk to the Sunbeam." Sara's gut sank with disappointment, but she politely accepted the help. He deposited her things outside her room door, once she got it, and she paid him as generously as a pilgrim could, giving him an extra coin -- a very shiny one -- for his daughter. She considered asking his name out of politeness, but didn't want to give the impression that she wanted future social interactions between them to occur. Instead, she asked something else.

    "Whereabouts is your cemetery, sir?"

    The man tipped his head. "Well, on the west side of town by the old wooden stave church. Why do you ask?"

    "I want to pay my respects to the dead."

    "An odd sense of courtesy from a traveler," He smiled, a bit confused but still weirdly polite. "Are you a pilgrim?"

    "Of sorts. I'm going to be dead too someday -- it seems prudent to develop good relationships before the fact."

    It was a line that had become either an ice-breaker, or an ice-maker, depending on how it was applied and how she felt about who she was talking to. Sometimes people found it profound, but usually they just found it creepy. Unfortunately for Sara, it had the opposite of the intended effect this time, and her helper nodded thoughtfully.

    "Well, can't say as I've heard that reasoning before, but can't argue with it. If you head down the main street, you'll eventually see a signpost, that'll lead you right to the cemetery. Just don't go inside the church, thing's falling down by the beams."

    "Duly noted. Thank you, sir."

    "Call me Kevin. Need anything at the stables, you just ask directly for me."

    I'd rather not. She thought as he descended the staircase, smiling pleasantly. Once he was gone so was the smile, and she breathed a relieved puff of air out through her lips. In silence she brought her things inside her room, then left and locked the door behind her, carrying only her coinpurse and a light satchel with her offerings for the dead, who thankfully talked far less than the living.

    ********************

    By the time night fell she had paid her respects and made her way around town. Bughunter had done all of her mischief-making and lounged on the bed upstairs while Sara took her supper in the common room of the inn.

    She had chosen a corner table to avoid excessive interaction. These days she was dressing in darker colors, hoping to avoid more notice, though she needn't have bothered: there were a couple of merchants who proved far more interesting to the locals than the quiet pilgrim, and she used their presence to stay beneath the notice of everyone else.

    The people were noisier and more rowdy at night, she could see, and while there were a few families crowded into the room, the patrons consisted of very much the same types who made up the populace of every other inn in every other province: men, aggressively trying to prove their virility to one another. To Kilning's credit, there had been absolutely no fights so far, though she had caught some pretty intense arm-wrestling, and not a single interested male glance had found its way to her direction. Thank the Gods for small favors.

    As it turned out, Kilning's people were more interesting than she'd banked on. Her plate had been finished, polished off and sent back to the kitchens long ago, but she still sat at her table sipping mead and watching people come and go: the crowd had peaked once the sun had gone down, and now the last of the children had left with their parents, leaving nothing but adults who found their booming adult voices the moment the younger diners had gone. For a couple of hours the room was populated with them, but even they thinned out, and now there were only a few left, nearly all of them sitting at the bar.

    There was another woman sitting across the floor from her now, however, who looked to have been there all night but who Sara hadn't seen until now. At first she had flicked her eyes towards her in curiosity, then intended fully to return her attention to the other patrons, but her gaze fixated as a chill shrouded her in her chair. It felt very much as though this other woman had noticed the pilgrim watching her, but from where she sat, Sara could not see her face clearly. She looked normal enough at first, a slight woman, with brown wavy hair and a pale pink dress, sitting alone at her own table just as Sara was seated, but the more the junior shaman stared, the more that was revealed: the figure was notably darker in aura than the other patrons, her dress ragged and dirty, her hair disheveled, her shoulders and neck slouched as though defeated.

    No matter how long she stared, the woman would not move, and no one else seemed to notice her. There was no plate nor mug in front of her. When the serving wench swept by and wiped the surface of the table, clearly ignoring the figure, Sara was sure that the woman she was seeing wasn't really there. At least, not in the normal sense. Now curious and hoping to push her usual limitations, Sara took up her satchel, purse, and mug, and stood full of intent to join the ghost at her table when someone new entered and crossed her path, momentarily blocking her view. When they passed, the ghost woman was gone, but she continued to the table and sat in the chair beside the one she had seen occupied, thinking that perhaps the ghost had been a regular at one time and would still be sitting at her usual seat.

    But when she set down her mug and glanced up again, the ghost was now standing, immediately behind the patrons at the bar -- head bowed, still as a statue, and not seeming to notice the newcomer. Concerned and now more than a little suspicious, Sara watched her, trying to be subtle and act as though she wasn't staring at anyone in particular. Something was weird -- and something was going to happen.
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    Qayin
    Member Avatar
    Desert Wraith

    The whirling ceased, and Qayin toppled to the ground in an uncomfortable heap. The air was warmer than where he had been mere moments before, prompting a feeling of relief as he waited for the spinning to subside.

    “I’m not in Ashoka, at the very least. Blasted bauble.” The quiet bustle of a city at the edge of the day reassured him that he hadn’t been stranded in the middle of some wasteland. Children laughed nearby as well, another sign that he was in a place that he could at least sleep in until the device decided to move him again. It had been about a week and a half since he had parted ways with Jool and Eos at the edge of Navale. He hadn’t left the area himself, choosing instead to enjoy the silence while he could. The artifact the castle Eos had given him was the object of his attention when he wasn’t foraging for food. It had been one of these moments that had landed him where he was now. It had begun to glow, the intricate patterns on its smooth, diamond shaped surface rapidly shifting. The moment he grasped it, he was sucked up as though in a water spout and spun right back down, or so he had felt. He struggled to his feet, shaking his head vigorously in an attempt to quicken his recovery. It finally worked, and the curious faces of the children he’d been hearing looked up at his as he stood up and adjusted his cloak. The oldest approached him, clearly intrigued by the spinning man. The trio in front of him — two older boys and one younger girl — seemed to come from wealthier families, their clothes clean and nicely kept

    “What was that? Did’ya use some sort of magic?”

    “Of course he used magic! Don’t waste his time!” Qayin grinned for a moment, standing tall. He produced the object that had brought him here in his hands, showing it to the trio.

    “This took me here. I was in Soto, if you know where that is!” They nodded, the youngest child’s mouth agape in surprise.

    “You from Soto”, she asked in an innocent sounding voice. Qayin nodded, and an audible gasp was heard from the trio. Qayin regaled them with somewhat censored tales of his journey, gathering a small crowd of youths — and some adults as well — around him. He told them tales of his adventures with dragon women, fairies, and all other sorts of beings he had encountered. Even the story of his time exploring Eos was something they enjoyed.

    The lanterns hung around lit up the entire square, and a few vendors still hawked their goods to any who would buy. It was a happy, peaceful place, entirely different from Reine. To Qayin, it was refreshing. Eventually as evening truly came upon them, the crowd dispersed. One of the last to leave was the young girl, picked up from the square by her father. As he handed his daughter a shiny coin, he looked at Qayin with guarded curiosity.

    “Two of you in one day? Quite the convenient turn of events!”

    “What do you mean?” Qayin stood back up from the seated position he had taken when telling the story, pocketing the coins he had been given for his entertainment.

    “I just mean that we haven’t gotten many travellers in the past, and suddenly in one day we’re visited by two of you? It just seems odd.” Qayin noted the growing concern on the man’s face.

    “I imagine it won’t make a difference, but know I have nothing to do with whoever you’re speaking of.”

    “Well, if you’re interested in meeting this lady you have nothing to do with, I imagine she’s gone to the inn at this point. May be worth looking into.” The hostility in his voice was not lost on Qayin, who shrugged his shoulders and walked off in the direction the man had pointed.

    “I might as well, got nothing better to do at the moment! You and your daughter have a nice night!”




    It was scarce moments after entering the tavern that his attention was drawn. A silhouette of a form, the markings of a spirit seeking attention, caught his eye. He had walked in the place casually, not immediately looking for the woman he knew nothing about. He’d been in places like this often, and the atmosphere was hardly different than any inn in Reine, though perhaps minus the ever present smell of fish that permeated that city.

    Seconds after noticing the entity, he noticed a woman who was trying her best to appear as though she wasn’t staring at the spirit. The calmer tones of her clothing, mannerisms, and even the way in which she wore her hair indicated that she wasn’t from the area. Qayin put on his nicest smile and sat down next to her, opposite where her gaze continually drifted to. Coughing, he attempted to catch her attention. When that was unsuccessful, he cleared his throat and spoke up, trying to not come across as though he were interested in her accompanying him for the night. She struck him as attractive, though he didn’t like the thought of trying to find romance in a place he’d possibly never return to, nor was he interested in a stranger. Besides, as the unmoving spirit indicated, there was something that needed to be done. Perhaps the pair of them were just what was needed.

    “You see it as well, I presume? Or else you’re drinking something the rest of us in here don’t have, in which case…” He trailed off as she slowly turned towards him. Her face seemed bemused and disappointed to hear someone speaking to her. Qayin noted the look, and hoping to avoid an awkward silence, he stumbled over his words to produce a greeting.

    “Well, er. Hello.”
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    Sara
    Member Avatar
    ~Hail, Mysteria -- I shield my eyes...~

    It took her a few seconds to register that someone was suddenly sitting with her, and she tore her gaze away from the ghost reluctantly. With some disappointment, she noted that her new table-mate was male, and hoped to high heaven that he wasn't interested in anything but casual conversation. However, the more she spoke to him, the more it felt like he was just a visitor hanging out with another visitor -- and after all he had brought up the ghost (at least, she was pretty sure that was what he had been talking about), which was already a step up from other tablecrashers.

    "You too, huh?" Her eyes swept back over to the bar, but the woman had since vanished. "Oh, she buggered off. What is it with ghosts and hanging around staring silently at people, and vanishing without a word? Rude." She joked, and took a swig of mead. The tankard was getting close to empty, and she'd have to elbow her way through ridiculously large men to get the barkeep's attention for a refill, but when she did, she might just bring a drink back for this guy. With a few cursory glances around to make sure the spirit hadn't just moved to another area, she gave up on finding it and turned her attention to the young man sitting by her.

    His wardrobe was modest, though he looked as though he could have been Ashokan: she'd met a few from there who liked to dress in lighter or more colored clothing. This put her a bit more at ease, and he certainly seemed innocent enough as far as greetings went. She offered a smile and stuck out a hand to shake.

    "I'm Sara Prins -- and I only wish I was drinking something they're not allowed to sell." She allowed herself a little snicker, and looked back to the bar. One of the patrons, a burly man with the deepest belly laugh and at least half the jokes, got up to use the privy or something and rounded the corner beside the stairwell, disappearing from view. His buddies filled in the space he left behind, all laughing about something he had said. "So you're visiting too? It's a bit creepy how pretty this town is, eh? Then again, I did just spend way too long in Orl'kabbar, so maybe I'm culture-shocked."
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    Qayin
    Member Avatar
    Desert Wraith


    The woman introduced herself as Sara Prins, cracking some joke in response to his line about drinks. He smiled, offering some small joke in response as he shook her hand.

    “Yes, same here. Though I imagine I’d be drinking for entirely different reasons!”

    "So you're visiting too? It's a bit creepy how pretty this town is, eh? Then again, I did just spend way too long in Orl'kabbar, so maybe I'm culture-shocked." He understood what she meant by the comment, even without the mild hostility he had faced from the man in the square.

    “I know what you mean. I’m here entirely on accident, thanks to this little bauble”, he flashed the object onto the bar before continuing, “came out of Soto actually. But I suppose if we’re both here there must be some reason for it. Thoughts on the spirit we both sensed? I’m hearing spirits, but not any babble related to just her presence.” The crowd had grown rather raucous as they had conversed, prompting him to raise his voice.

    I hope I don’t accidentally shout something about spirits during a lull in the noise. Sara struck him as someone purposefully distant from the rest, so he decided for the moment to avoid pressing for any personal information.

    “Well, I imagine she’ll be sticking around. Most of the time I just ignore it — unless I can’t like that situation in Reine — but I’m definitely interested in helping this time around. I’ve got nothing better to do at the moment anyway.” He reached for a glass that wasn’t there, realized his mistake a few seconds too late and slamming his palm down onto the table. He cringed as he caught looks from those around him, and the surprise that crossed her face as well.
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    Sara
    Member Avatar
    ~Hail, Mysteria -- I shield my eyes...~

    "Ooh, what is that?" She craned her head to take a look at the bauble he was holding up, considering his words. So he had poofed out of Soto -- seemed like everything crazy was happening there, and a lot of people were only just barely managing to get out, probably only thanks to devices like the one he held. "Oh, is that one of those... uh..." The word fled her temporarily in her buzz, she was a horrible lightweight when it came to alcohol. "Little zapper things... teleportation device!" Well, it must have been, otherwise nothing really accounted for his explanation.

    Her gaze flitted back to the bar again, but the spirit was still nowhere to be seen. " I dunno... maybe she's always been a regular and doesn't want to be left out just because she has no body." A banging of the table caught her attention and she jumped, looking back to her table partner and noticing his expression. "Oh, that will never do. Wait a tick."

    The pilgrim pushed her chair back and went to the bar, trying to look brave but really not looking forward to having to get close to the smelly brawny men sitting there. Rather than risk leaning between any of them and accidentally brushing shoulders with another human being, she stood on her toes and snapped her fingers to get the barkeep's attention. By some miracle of nature he heard her over the laughter, and she held up her tankard and raised her other hand with two fingers raised. The keep smiled his courtesy and nodded, and not a couple of moments later placed two fresh tankards on the end of the bar. Grimacing inwardly, she leaned as far around the man on the end as she could to place down the empty and pick up the new ones, and could smell his breath from where she stood. She held her breath until she was nearly at her own table, and plunked back down in the chair, thumping Qayin's mug lightly in front of him.

    "I usually don't see them, honestly..." She confided, appropriately perplexed. "I'm more of a hearer than a seer. I like them, but they don't seem to like me.

    "If you don't feel like talking about it I understand, but I'm all curious now. What was it that happened in Reine that you couldn't ign--"

    Everyone in the building was abrputly cut off by the sound of a man screaming from behind the stairwell. For a moment nobody moved, but it was the barkeep who rushed out from his spot first. Eyes wide and brow furrowed, Sara stood up and leaned over to try and watch him as he rounded the corner, and the sound of her chair groaning against the floor was uncomfortably loud in the silence that had followed the cry. Another, shorter yelp, and the barkeep had backed out from behind the stairs, then suddenly turned and bolted outside, shouting for guards.

    By this point everyone was curious, but Sara, thinking perhaps the keep had seen the ghost for himself, darted out in front of them, temporarily forgetting her conversation partner. She turned the corner expecting to see a woman with brown hair and a dirty pink dress, but what she did see was something she would never forget.

    The burly man from the bar lay just outside the privy doorway, skin white, eyes glassy and staring at the ceiling, mouth slightly agape -- dead. His legs lay straight out, and one arm had been thrown over his head. The other arm lay three feet away, ripped off at the shoulder, blood pooling fresh from underneath. Sara tore her gaze from his severed shoulder down at her feet, blanched, and hurriedly stepped away with a small gasp when she realized she was standing in the man's blood. She backed up, joining the other shocked spectators as they stared helplessly at the mangled body, while the guards rushed in behind them and she stared numbly down at her own bloodied bootprints.
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    Qayin
    Member Avatar
    Desert Wraith

    The mood had changed dramatically in the short span of time since they had begun to speak. After she’d gotten him a drink so as to avoid another moment like the one which had happened before, and they’d conversed a little on spirits. She had been in the middle of asking him about his time in Reine before the scream brought silence over the tavern. As the chaos ensued, Sara had moved towards the noise, stopping dead in her tracks and reeling back in horror. Qayin took another sip from his tankard before standing up, cracking his neck. If it was what he imagined it was, it seemed as though the pair of them were in for a long night.

    The guards had been summoned, and as they pushed their way through the crowd towards the corpse, he followed in their wake. Once he arrived, his face hardened into a look of irritation and confusion. Turning to Sara, he noted her shocked look bloodied footsteps and used his knife to offer up a small piece of his cloak to her to clean it up, a grim smile on his face as he spoke.

    “Thought I’d left this in Soto, for the time being. You okay?” Turning towards the body after she responded, he studied the corpse and its detached arm. The spirit of the man was yelling, shouting to anyone who could listen. While Qayin couldn’t talk with it directly, he listened to what it had to say. He turned back to Sara questioningly.
    “Hear that as well, or is it just me?” The guards noticed their conversation, and one of the younger ones stepped towards him menacingly.

    “Leave this to us. There’s nothing you can do, you’ll only make it worse!” Something in his tone irritated Qayin. It was that of cocky inexperience, something he couldn’t stand.

    “Oh? And what do you plan to do, poke the body until he gets back up and tells you who killed him? No, I’m-”, he adjusted, looking to Sara behind him, “we’re the professionals here, and something’s not quite right with this situation. Consider yourself lucky to have us.” Perhaps now he was the one speaking above their skillset, but he had far more experience with death than any of these people in the painted sepulchre of a town he’d found himself in. The guard backed down after a look from his commanding officer, letting Qayin and Sara move forward to analyze the area.

    “Sara, are you picking anything up?”
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    Sara
    Member Avatar
    ~Hail, Mysteria -- I shield my eyes...~

    It was difficult for Sara to tell if she could hear the dead man shouting, as the crowd behind them had begun to murmur and there were others gathering audibly in the street outside, likely having been drawn by the barkeep's call for help. It took her a moment or two to realize that Qayin was holding out a scrap of fabric for her -- she took it slowly and wiped as much of the excess off the bottom of her boots as possible.

    This Qayin seemed to have seen dead bodies before -- after all, he had been in Soto, where dead bodies were apparently a dime a dozen these days. Sara had fought with her family against Lothair Reik and so she had seen dead people, and had also killed a couple, but she had never seen a man dead so suddenly with his arm ripped off, and she had always been careful not to get other peoples' blood on her. It wasn't that she was squeamish in the stereotypical girly sense (she hated that nonsense), but she didn't like the idea of having someone else's life essence on her person, as it made her feel somehow responsible, or that she was otherwise sullying their memory by making a triviality of their vessel. When blood was so carelessly dealt with, or worn as paint, or sopped up with a mop and bucket, it cheapened the sanctity of life. It no longer belonged to a person, but was another inanimate substance as vexing as mud.

    Although, admittedly, the dead didn't need their blood anymore. She supposed that was the flip side of it. She straightened up and said her thanks to Qayin, and strained her ears. The murmurs behind them were backing up, but between the death and the pompousness of the guards, Qayin's insisting that they were professionals, and the irritating sound of the other patrons' voices, she snapped.

    "Shut up for a minute!"" She barked over her shoulder. The patrons, taken aback, fell silent for a few seconds and she tipped her head, trying to hear what her new acquaintance had heard. At first she heard nothing. "Thought maybe I heard who might have done it..." She explained, whipping up a fast excuse -- then, there was suddenly a very loud male voice that seemed to come from her inner ear:

    "Talula!"

    After that, there was nothing. The patrons began to murmur again until the barkeep forced them out; he then turned his attention to the two visitors while the guards took turns glowering at them and inspecting the body.

    "I'm afraid you two should leave -- miss, I'm so sorry, you can stay with my wife at home while we take care of this, I'll give you your money back--"

    "I'm not going." Her voice came flat, and surprised her. He blinked once or twice, confused.

    "But... I can't let anyone sleep in a place where one of my customers has died."

    "I've slept in scarier places. I'm not going. I'm staying here, and I don't want my money back."

    She had made up her mind, but she had also seen enough of the body. The woman with the pink dress was nowhere in sight. Seeing that there was nothing more to be done except stare at the corpse and have the image burned in their memories, Sara turned and tugged Qayin's sleeve lightly, beckoning him for a quiet conversation where no one would hear them.

    "He said 'Talula' -- did you hear it?" She mumbled to him quietly when they were out of earshot. "Do you think it was the spirit..? I've never seen a ghost do that to a man before. In fiction, yeah, but never... for real." She paused. "I think I might pay another visit to the cemetery tonight to look for her... if you're still in a helping mood, you're welcome to come with me. First I have to check on my cat though, she must be terrified."
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    Qayin
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    “Talula? Ah, so you did hear it as well. Agreed, it’s incredibly rare for a spirit to attack someone like that.” The pair had stepped away from the noise after a rather tense discussion between the pair of them, the guards, and the innkeep. Qayin had drawn the keeper’s attention as well, stating that he would be staying here for the night as well.

    "I think I might pay another visit to the cemetery tonight to look for her... if you're still in a helping mood, you're welcome to come with me. First I have to check on my cat though, she must be terrified." He laughed. She wasn’t the sort to remain shocked for long it seemed. Nodding, he spoke once more.

    “Then check on the cat as you must, I’ll accompany you for the moment. Don’t worry, I’m comfortable keeping my mouth shut if talking isn’t something you’re keen on doing.” As they made their way to where the animal was, it was mostly in silence. Qayin suddenly remembered that their earlier conversation had been interrupted and decided to continue it.

    “Ah, that situation in Reine I mentioned? Well, there are a lot of dead people there, as you know. There was a point after the crops died where there were just dozens of voices shouting for attention, both from the living and the dead.” He yawned, stretching rather casually as he continued.

    “I spent a week or two just hazy, trying to help a few spirits where I could. It’s just… difficult to deal with all of that for such a length of time.” They reached their destination, and Qayin’s face suddenly lit up and he turned to face her.

    “Hey, I’ve realized I may have heard of you before from a friend. Are you the same Sara that Ylsa’s spirit Jool mentioned? What an odd twist of fate that would be!”
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    Sara
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    He seemed to sense that she wasn't much for chat -- at least with strangers -- and a pang of guilt made her reply with another joke: "I do hate talking... but all the same, it's all anyone can do to get me to shut the hell up sometimes."

    His story about the dead in Reine made her nod, though as with most tales of the dead, she also felt some measure of sadness. "That certainly would be unsettling," She conceded. "And overwhelming after a point. Sometimes we can only help a select few, even when there are so many others asking for help, and those few are lucky to have someone listening. So many people are scared of them... they get sad, and they get frustrated. It makes them act out in ways they may never have acted in life."

    It occurred to her that she was using the royal 'we' when referring to work with spirits, and it struck her as pretentious for a moment, until a realization crashed down the last barrier to her self-confidence: she was already doing the work that she had wanted so badly to do when Ylsa first began telling her stories of spirits and ghosts and yokai and all the rest. She bit on her cheeks to keep from suddenly laughing out loud, quickly regaining her mental composure. They reached her door -- currently the only one occupied -- and she unlocked it. "Come on in, just don't touch my things, please."

    Bughunter, the tiny little calico, lay curled up on the bed exactly where Sara had left her, soft white chin turned to the ceiling, paws over her nose. The girl knelt on the bed and with a purring chirp the cat raised her head, slow-blinking her happiness. "Hey sweetums..." She murmured, stroking the soft fur of Bugs's cheeks. "There's a spook hanging around here, so if you get scared, you just squall for the innkeeper, okay? I'll try and be back soon. I'm sorry for leaving you by yourself."

    Satisfied that the cat was perfectly fine, she leaned down and planted a firm kiss square between the tiny pointed ears. Bughunter curled her toes and squinched her face, purring very loudly, and curled right back up to continue her nap when her mother left the room with her friend and locked the door behind her. The lock had just clicked into place when Qayin brought up a familiar name.

    "Eh?" She dropped her key, bent down, and picked it back up. Her face betrayed her astonishment. "You know Ylsa? You've met Jool?!"

    Twist of fate indeed! A grin rapidly replaced her surprise, and from there she was notably warmer towards him. "I guess I am! Well, if you've met her, you're probably her friend. I'm her apprentice. Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand and go to the creepiest place they've got." Suddenly though, mid-step, she stopped and turned around. "Uh, shit, hang on -- I've fogotten some things."

    After returning to her room Sara came back with a satchel, a long black-stone mala around her neck and her white exorcism arrows and bow at her back -- just in case. "Okay, let's go." She lowered her voice as they descended from the stairs, and cast another sorrowful glance towards the alcove where the man's mangled body lay. When they left the building proper the moon was out, bright and shining, accompanied by its host of stars. Sara's breath came out in a puff of fog. "This way.

    "Ylsa made me leave Soto as soon as there were signs of trouble, but she stayed behind to try and fight it off," She explained. "Is she ok? How did you meet her? Was Jool all gross and creepy when you saw her?"
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    Her cat glanced at him languidly, giving him the disinterested look that characterized the creatures in his mind. As he talked, Sara’s mood towards him shifted the instant he mentioned Ylsa and Jool. A grin spread over her face after she got over the initial surprise, and her tone lifted from the cautiously cordial into the genuinely excited. They exited the room, and she locked the door as she responded.

    "I guess I am! Well, if you've met her, you're probably her friend. I'm her apprentice. Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand and go to the creepiest place they've got."
    Her enthusiasm was catching, and Qayin chuckled as she walked with purpose and then suddenly turned around to grab the items they’d gone there to obtain in the first place.

    “Ah, so you are the same one! It’s a pleasure to meet you, and yes, let’s get some work done around here!” They passed the body of the victim with a pair of sideways frowns at it, making their way out of the building and into the cold of a clear winter’s night. The lanterns splattered across the town lent their light to the pair as they made their way in what was presumably the direction of the graveyard. She had taken the initiative in continuing the conversation, setting Qayin’s mind at ease as far as the social aspect of the situation went. Evidently Jool had sent Sara out of Soto at the first sign of the coming war, an incredibly respectable thing for a teacher to do, and an aspect of her character that he hadn’t noticed during their time spent in the living castle of Eos.

    "Is she ok? How did you meet her? Was Jool all gross and creepy when you saw her?" he briefly explained how they had come to meet at Lake Navale, also going over the events that transpired within the castle and the gifts they had been given from them before laughing once again.

    “As far as spirits go, she was hardly the worst thing I’ve seen. However, I did see what must have been her handwork in the forest soon after we parted ways. I would give you details, but suffice to say I’m glad I can call Jool a friend, rather than an enemy. Perhaps the rest of what I saw should be saved for less grim circumstances than these.” As Sara responded, they arrived at the graveyard she had spoken of.

    “Alright, I suppose it’s time for us to get to work then! I’ll let you lead, since you’ve spent more time here than I.”
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    Sara
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    The story of the lake-castle enchanted the young pilgrim, and she found herself wrestling with trying to picture it in her mind like a storybook and trying to remember which direction things were. On the main drag it was fine, but once they turned off into the smaller avenues it became a bit more confusing. Luckily, in the end, they got there safely and only with a small amount of backtracking. For someone who wandered constantly, some days Sara swore she couldn't find her own ass without a map and a lantern.

    "A living castle..." She wondered aloud at one point. She wondered about the scroll Jool had found -- she knew there was some sort of top-secret ritual among elite onmyoji involving asking the gods for favors or something, but couldn't quite remember what it was called. It started with a "T", she was fairly sure. Or maybe not... "That must have been quite the trip. I've seen some crazy stuff in the last year or so, but I have to say I've never seen a talking castle before. I wonder who they are..." The tale of Jool's 'handiwork', though vague, left her curious also. She knew the spirit had grown to be kind and gentle, but she also knew that, just like trying to tame a tiger, there would always be an underlying danger: a wild animal was still a wild animal, and a yokai was still a yokai.

    The gate to the cemetery loomed in front of them, looking every bit like the type from books and paintings -- eerie, cast in the pale death-glow of the moon, jutting with rooked tombstones and a few spindly trees. At first the image caused a chill in Sara's plexus -- the natural reaction -- but her own feelings on such things immediately took over from there, and she felt the swelling of love in her heart. She placed her hands together and bowed her head. "I'm sorry to disturb you in your time..." She whispered. "We're trying to find someone. Please leave us alone, and we will leave you alone."

    With the apology being made, she opened the gate, which was rather strangely silent, as she had noted earlier in the day. But once they stepped inside, she suddenly wondered where in the Eight Hells they should go next: for a small town, the cemetery was fairly large. She fingered her chin thoughtfully. For a moment she tried to listen to her intuition, but as ever, her intuition for such matters was completely useless. All the same she fished the lantern out of her satchel, lit it, and held it up -- to her surprise, he conjured up a light of his own, which was far more effective than a mere orange glow.

    "Well... let's start at the very beginning, I suppose."

    They perused row after row -- many of the headstones were grown over with lichen or moss, and some were simply too old to read. But the woman she had seen was wearing a more modern-styled dress, so she decided that the headstone they were trying to find, at least, would be newer. She led Qayin to the more recent plots, and could feel something, or perhaps many somethings watching her. In just under half an hour, they came to the higher plateau where the mausoleums and crematory sites were.

    "Wanna check right? I'll go left."
    Edited by Sara, Feb 21 2017, 07:23 PM.
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    Qayin felt oddly nostalgic as he entered the graveyard. It had been many a year since he had first been discovered practicing his abilities in the cemetery as a child. If he hadn’t been afraid to reveal his gift to his parents, perhaps he would have never been trained at all by Coriakin. His reminiscing was cut short as Sara spoke, pulling him back into the investigation at hand. She brought out her lantern, and he summoned his wisp, causing her light to appear significantly dimmer. He wondered if it would have come across as though he were showing off. She didn’t seem to mind, however, and moved forward, moving down the rows in search of their target.

    “It’s certainly active around here tonight.” He motioned, though he realized that she was unlikely to actually see the crowds of spirits watching them. They seemed calm, though the murmuring of their voices would have caused less prepared people to run in terror at the sheer multitude. He browsed the group for any sign of the woman, but couldn’t recognize her. Perhaps she was there, simply hiding amongst the crowds, but for the moment it was unclear to him.


    “Wanna check right? I’ll go left.”

    “Will do. I’ll call for you if I happen to find the specter, or this Talula the spirit mentioned.” He took off at a brisk pace, scanning the graves as he did so. The crowds of spirits seemed to part for him, and he paused as one seemed to speak to him directly.

    “Little further.” He tilted his head as a sign of recognition and respect, quickening his pace as he reached a rather plain looking headstone. Qayin paused, bending forward and crouching as he attempted to recover from his windedness. It had been a significant distance for him. His gaze slid upwards as he recovered, eyes first hitting a spirit, and then the engraving on the tomb in front of him. It was the one from the inn, looming over him. She seemed calm, though that unnerved him perhaps more so than if she had been glaring at him. Behind her lay the stone, engraved as the rest were with details about the life of the person. Talula. He got up, keeping his eyes locked on her as he called out.

    “Sara, I believe I’ve found what we’re looking for, in more than one sense!” Sara seemed incredibly far away from him in that moment, but he was prepared to do what needed to be done. The entity continued to not speak, her silence seeming monstrously loud amongst the crowd of voices around the pair.

    “What happened to her?” He muttered under his breath.
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    Sara
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    As she walked she could hear footsteps behind her. At first she looked around over her shoulder to make sure it wasn't Qayin, but he was already heading in the opposite direction. Ah, the classic footstep trick, She nodded her understanding, and continued on her way.

    All the while she thought, on the edge of her hearing, that there were voices, but they were so layered and faint that it could have been the wind -- until she realized that there was no wind. She brought the lantern closer to various tombstones and memorial stones with no luck. She felt odd, stepping so close to headstones, and it felt disrespectful to be trodding on the ground above those who slept beneath, but nothing made a move and the footsteps never came closer.

    "Sara, I believe I’ve found what we’re looking for, in more than one sense!" Sara lifted her head and headed for him, his wisp appearing a mere orb from where she stood. When she came closer she did not see the woman at first, blinded as she was by the light of the fell wisp, kneeling instead to inspect the grave. It looked as though someone had been around it recently, and the headstone itself was fairly new, sitting atop a small stone box in which was surely the woman's ashes. After a moment of perusing the site, she glanced up to see the ghost standing before them, and with this sign she unshouldered her satchel and knelt down in front of the memorial site.

    She made a note to buy a few more small bowls, as the one she withdrew was the last in her pack. Reaching around the headstone, she scooped up a small handful of earth and pressed it into the bowl, setting it in front of the memorial and placing a couple of small candles and three oranges with it. The candles were lit, followed closely by a handful of incense, the wooden ends stuck into the dirt of the bowl. After another glance up at the spirit, Sara put her hands together, and prayed.

    These things are for you. Thank you for sharing your space with us, and allowing us to come through your resting grounds. Please leave us alone, and we will leave you alone.

    "If there's any way we can help you," She gently added out loud, "Please try and let us know. If that was you earlier.... please, don't kill anyone else. You haven't been forgotten."

    The pilgrim scooched back a bit and bowed, her hands together on the ground and her forehead resting upon them, before sitting up, folding her hands in her lap, and watching the woman behind her tombstone. The whispers around them were gathering, and she could make some things out: fish, the sun on the stream, visit for Yuletide, when does the sadness end? Without context, it was just the flurried words of the dead, like the dialogue in a dream, or the voices that she once heard as a child.

    "I don't know..." She replied to Qayin. The ghost herself provided no answers, but slowly knelt down to investigate the food that had been left for her. Her head and shoulders breezed through the stone, face lowered to the oranges, hair obscuring anything else. Sara stood as quietly and unobtrusively as she could. "It's like she doesn't want to talk. We can't really force her." Her jaw cracked suddenly with a yawn.

    "Maybe we should sleep on it, and come back tomorrow when there's more light. What do you think?"
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    The rituals which Sara used to communicate with the spirit interested Qayin for many reasons, not least of which was the difference between his innate abilities and her learned ones. He remained silent as she performed, quiet admiration slowly building inside as he did so. His abilities had come innately, while she seemed to have put incredible effort into her work. The spirit remained silent, and as the stood there, Sara yawned.

    "Maybe we should sleep on it, and come back tomorrow when there's more light. What do you think?" He nodded in agreement, extinguishing the light of his wisp. The yellow light of her lantern guided them back through the graveyard and into the streets of the town. It still struck him as odd that the city was so calm, but Qayin brushed the thought aside as nothing more than paranoia and a lack of sleep. They had soon arrived at inn, sidestepping the continued investigation after he had made sleeping arrangements.

    The irritation from the guards continued in silence, and the pair made their way to their respective places. He’d made sure his room was near hers; they both seemed to be in silent agreement that things were not yet done for the evening, though it appeared as though there was not much they could do to move things along. Before entering his quarters, he turned towards Sara and smiled.

    “Sleep well! It’s hardly the sort of place I’d expect us to fall under attack in, but if you need anything, simply ask.” He closed the door and latched it, admiring the quality of the place compared to some of the lodgings he had paid for in Soto. After stripping out of his robe, Qayin removed his shirt, keeping his pants on in the event that something did occur. He extinguished the lantern and rolled over on his side, drifting rather smoothly into the realm of sleep. His slumber was at first calm, though it was soon interrupted by something he hadn’t expected whatsoever.
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    Sara
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    When it appeared that the morning sun had come, a woman sat upon the chair across from his bed. It was the ghost from the cemetery, head bowed as though weighed down by defeat. As he watched, she rose from the chair and slowly drifted towards the foot of the bed -- as she came closer, he could see that her dress was not a proper dyed pink, but appeared to have been stained by something else. One leg lifted, stepping upon the bed, but not sinking it, and making no sound. The other followed.

    Talulah walked across the covers to Qayin's supine form, her head still bowed, face obscured, straddling him and sitting upon his legs. Slowly, she began to lift her head, eyes wide as if in fear. As she did, a long, wide cut on her neck became visible, opening up as the skin around it stretched, bleeding and staining her dress anew. There were no words -- only a series of weak, death rattle breaths from what must have been a severed trachea. The blood flowed and flowed until it sopped Qayin's body and the covers upon his bed, and Talulah leaned her head back, and back, until the gash in her throat was wide open, exposing bone and sinew.

    Something red pulsed and came up from the gaping hole in her neck. Eventually a hand appeared, followed by an arm, as though someone else was crawling out of her chest cavity. Then, all at once, the bloodied arm shot out of her mangled throat, the hand siezing his face, threatening to crush it....


    **********************************

    Then, the morning sun came for real.

    Sara had let Bughunter out to play and use someone's garden, and went downstairs into the tavern for something to drink. People were already gathering, the mess from the previous night having been cleaned up, investigated, deemed inconclusive, and the inn re-opened officially. With another jaw-cracking yawn, she settled sleepily onto a stool at the end of the bar. The innkeep drifted over, still smiling apologetically and a bit sadly.

    "Breakfast?"

    "Maybe just some tea with sugar and milk for now, please." She crossed her arms upon the bar, leaning her chin on them, eyes half-lidded. Sara wasn't good at mornings. "My stomach doesn't function until noon." The innkeep laughed lightly, still obviously upset about the previous night's events, and bustled about to fill the request. Sara watched him with blurry eyes. "Did they find out what happened..?"

    "I'm afraid not," He responded quietly, pouring boiled water into a pot and bringing it to her with a plain white cup. "It's a mystery."

    "I'm so sorry that happened in your place. You okay?" The keep seemed a little taken aback by the concern of a stranger, and smiled and nodded, seeming to relax a little.

    "I'll be fine, miss, don't you worry."

    "What was your name, anyway?"

    "Duane Hilson."

    "Pleased to meet you, Mister Hilson. I'm Sara. Oh, hey, do you think I could get another cup for my buddy? Not sure what time he wakes up." The cup was delivered, and soon Qayin appeared at the foot of the stairs. Sara, still bleary-eyed, raised a hand and smiled. "Top o' th' mornin' to ya."
    Edited by Sara, Mar 8 2017, 03:31 PM.
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    If Sara was bleary eyed, Qayin was perhaps even moreso. He attempted to speak once, quickly realizing that the words wouldn’t come out. He put on a sort of smile, gesturing for something to drink as he sat down next to the woman. Sara motioned to the cup she’d ordered for him, and he sipped at it quietly for a moment. He perked up slightly, his voice returning as he cleared his throat.
    “Well, that was quite the nightmare. I suppose you didn’t experience anything similar?” A quizzical look from Sara confirmed his theory, and he quickly went over what his dream had entailed. As he finished, he slurped the rest of tea down noisily, sighing with satisfaction.

    “I imagine that had something to do with our investigation. Though why she spoke to me alone I have no idea.” He turned to the innkeep, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he spoke.

    “Do you have some sort of hearty food? I get the impression that I’m going to need it for today.” He nodded, making his way around the area as he started to prepare some food. Sara and Qayin continued their conversation, mostly with small talk about their histories and interactions with others. As the keep brought up a plate heavily laden with an assortment of breakfast foods, Qayin tossed some coins his way and turned to face Sara. He continued between bites, trying his best to not match moments of speaking with moments of eating. The color returned to his skin as he finished.

    “So, what exactly would you like to do? I got the impression that there was some sort of message to interpret from that dream, but perhaps not. Where would you like to go, back to the graveyard perhaps?” He looked at her expectantly as he wiped the remnants of food from his face and downed a glass of water that had been brought with the meal. He’d fully recovered, and was ready for whatever the day would bring them.
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    Sara
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    He appeared to have slept rather awfully, and though she initially felt bad for him she quickly turned curious and morbidly fascinated as he recounted his nightmare. Automatically she tried to piece together possible symbolisms, before she realized that it hadn't been at all subtle and there were likely no symbols to translate: the factors from the dream added up to it being a direct communication, though what Talulah was trying to say or do was anybody's guess, and his wonderment at why she had chosen him alone gave rise to more questions. Her thoughts went to the man who had died the night before. "Maybe she hates dudes." It was her best guess at this point, but it honestly wouldn't have surprised her.

    As Qayin ate she polished off the tea and by the time they were done she was jittery and ready to walk around. She nodded. "Sounds good to me. I'll go get my stuff."

    When they made it outside the sun was still shining as it had the day before, but a cool pre-spring breeze blew, chasing away the rest of whatever sleep-fugue may have been hanging over the two. The town's residents milled about their daily business, some hunters having returned from the wilds to the market to prepare and sell their catches, farmers wheeling carts up and down the cobbled streets, children messing about just before the bell of the little school on the west side rang.

    "Kind of ironic, isn't it..." Sara began thoughtfully, "All this hustle and bustle, all this life and time in the sun, and we're headed for the place where the dead sleep during the day. I bet none of these people truly expect to join them at any point--"

    "Hey, Miss! Miss!"

    Her depressing philosophical tirade was cut off, and she recognized the voice. "Noo..." She groaned, before trying on a friendly smile and turning around. "Hey Kevin."

    The man who only the day before had looked chipper and outgoing now appeared tired and frazzled, though he still clearly was trying to be a Good Neighbour. Sara blinked. "Hey, are you okay?" He nodded with a smile of his own.

    "Oh I'm fine, thank you -- Sir." He nodded to Qayin, still seeming suspicious, and it left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. "Are you two all right? We all heard what happened last night."

    Good news travels fast in this town, She thought, but nodded. "We're okay. Um... what's up?"

    "You two.... you should probably leave." Kevin frowned in concern. Sara was taken aback -- only the day before he had been all for her visit, even if not Qayin's. "There's been another death."

    The two exchanged knowing glances. Sara nodded at her new associate, then turned back to Kevin. "Where?"

    *************************************************

    They had managed to blow Kevin off despite his flustering and concern for their well-being, each maintaining that they came and went as they liked and had no plans to leave Kilning anytime soon, and followed the lead he had given them in the meantime. Together they ventured to a smaller street that tapered off into a path on the way to the farming plots, and found themselves at a small house surrounded by a dozen or more people.

    "'Scuse us, 'scuse, a thousand pardons..." They somehow managed to muscle through the throng to the front lines. The house itself was tiny, a little one-room abode with meager furniture and a single straw mattress on the floor. On the mattress lay the cold body of a man, his arms and legs broken and twisted at odd angles -- his tongue had been removed from his mouth and, disturbingly enough, nailed to his forehead. Sara grimaced at the sight of the limbs, and looked to Qayin.

    "I guess the oranges weren't enough."
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    The scene of this murder was perhaps even more grotesque than the one from the previous night. He placed his palm against his forehead, then quickly removed it once he realized it might be misconstrued as mocking the dead.

    "I guess the oranges weren't enough." Qayin chuckled at the line, though he was sure she hadn’t meant it in a comedic sense. He himself crouched down towards the body, analyzing it intently. The location — a small house out towards the edges of town near the farm plots — told him that this had nothing to do with money or something as petty as that. The method of the murder seemed much the same as the other one, though the tongue was a twist he hadn’t been expecting.

    He flicked the tongue absentmindedly for a time, sailing on the seas of his mind while doing so. He soon hastily pulled his hand away and wiped it on his cloak once he realized what he had been doing. Attempting to distract from his actions, Qayin spoke to Sara in a lower tone.

    “I wonder if this really has been brought on by our arrival. It seems odd that death would come just as soon as we did.” He twisted his head back, regarding the crowds behind him with caution. They seemed to do the same with the pair of them. Turning back to face the body and standing up, he spoke very quietly, keeping his tone calm.

    “Our presence grows less welcome by the minute. I’ve pulled everything I think I can from the situation, so unless you’ve gotten something else you’d like to look at here…” His meaning wasn’t hard to gather as he trailed off. The group outside seemed restless, but perhaps calmer than some whose friends or family members had been murdered.

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    Sara
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    As Qayin examined the body Sara felt out the area, but picked up nothing unusual besides the way with which the crowd had begn staring at them from outside. And the fact that the body had been busted up every which way and its tongue had been nailed to its forehead. That was a wee bit perplexing, too. Unfortunately she did not have Qayin's proclivity for corpses -- more like what came after -- but was little to be gleaned from the surroundings, either: no footprints, nothing seemed to be missing, and there was no sign even that anyone at all had been there besides the man who lived in the house.

    She shrugged as he trailed off, but caught on well enough. The eyes were beginning to make her feel uncomfortable, and she turned with him to leave the property only for them to come face-to-face with Kevin.

    "You two...." He looked horribly uncomfortable, almost frightened. Sara felt a little worried. "....I need to talk to you, alone."

    She shared another glance and shrug with Qayin, and Kevin pulled them aside, away from the ears and eyes of the other villagers who now murmured and gabbed amongst each other, suspicious, excited, nervous. "What's going on, Kevin?"

    The young man looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, his gaze lingering on an outer corner of the house they now stood behind, his hands quivering and wringing themselves.

    "You should.... go check out the manor in the upper district of town," He said, still watching the outer corner of the house. Sara saw nothing, but Qayin would see Talulah standing there, facing Kevin and watching him silently through her hair, unmoving. "Learn about the Lord's son. But -- don't bring up any of this to him. If he....." He swallowed. "....don't tell anyone it was me who sent you."

    Sara's brow furrowed. "You okay, Kevin..?"

    "Don't tell him it was me..!" He hissed.

    "Okay, okay..! Relax, I don't want to get you into trouble. Our lips are sealed, right?" She looked to Qayin for confirmation.
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    "Don't tell him it was me..!"

    "Okay, okay..! Relax, I don't want to get you into trouble. Our lips are sealed, right?"


    “Of course, my lips....” Qayin cupped his hand over his mouth and nodded as he caught Sara’s gaze. Whatever mild distrust he had for the man, this was not the time to call it into focus. The spirit of Talula stood silently watching Kevin, something the man seemed well aware of.

    “Hey.” The necromancer spoke up, the word hitting their informant like a bludgeon. The man locked eyes in response, at least as much as he could with his current mood.

    “I see her as well. I don’t know what happened here or why she seems to be watching you, Kevin. If you know anything else, you need to tell us now.” Fear oozed from every pore of the man’s body, and he shook his head slowly.

    “Ah. Well, let us hope she simply watches you then. You’ll know where to find us if you need us.” It was perhaps a harsh tone to take, but Qayin had begun to grow annoyed with this town. Everyone in it was either a liar or something worse. He muttered under his breath as they begun to make their way towards the manor that had been pointed out to them.

    “Just take me back to Reine, at least the liars there were honest about it.”
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