Mini Event just the way of things
Leatherworker

Age: 29 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
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#1
stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires
It was later than he would've liked, the sun low and the shadows long. In another twenty or thirty minutes it would be gone for the day, and Rory ill liked the idea of riding home in the dark.

Which he probably would've done anyway, even if he hadn't ended up sitting and staring at the Spire for an unknown amount of time.

Wessex was dead.

He still couldn't believe it, but it was true: Wessex was dead, torn to pieces by the spire demon, discarded like so much waste and scattered across the ground. He was lucky he had been able to safely identify anything at all.

The white fox had veered off when they'd approached the edge of the town, disappearing like a ghost in the snow after a mutual goodbye which somehow did not need two mouths speaking the same language. He'd stared after it for a little while, curious and humbled and grateful, before riding in between the houses. Best get his actual business out of the way first, so he nudged Talys round corners, up and down streets, making his handful of stops and exchanging his finished orders for whatever form of payment he'd negotiated. Salt, among them.

Then he rode for the Temple, a place he rarely visited. The Settlement was usually fairly quiet, but the Sanctuary, well.. since the Outlanders's arrival, it had been busy, in a different way. They were strangers, newcomers, trying to find their rhythm and pace and footing, and it made them stand out. It made him uneasy.

The Sanctuary had practically been dead before their arrival.

Sighing, Rory hitched the black pony to a suitable post, and stood there for a while, stroking her neck and face and murmuring comforting nonsense into her fluffy ears. Told her things she didn't need to know, like how terrible a cook Wessex seemed to have been.

But he couldn't stand out there forever in the now deep dark, so he eventually left the pony where she was and stepped into the Temple. He took off his cap and mittens, shook the snow out of them and shoved them into his greatcoat, and then he strode into the main hall.

"Ronin? Remi?" he called into the open space.

[ This is a sort of information sharing event, specifically tagging Honey and Odd. If you only want to participate to hear the information there's no need to post more than once. ^^ This takes place after the end of {KQ} Hush ]
burn scars crawl up the left side of his neck and onto the lower left half of his face
Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#2

Remi was in the back lighting candles. Luckily Isla had shown him where to find them or else he would have been searching for hours. Luckily the woman's initial sweep of this place proved to be more beneficial than just falling asleep with Edy. So he had come early and had begun littering the sanctuary with small waxy pillars of light. Instantly the place felt homier and more lively, and rather than feeling the foreboding Remi thought he'd experience given what terrible memories he had of this place, he felt a strange sense of calm.

Hearing Rory's voice ring out made the alchemist turn instantly, a slanted smile suddenly appearing on his face. Bringing a few lanterns into the main sanctuary of the temple, Remi smiled brightly at his blue-eyed friend, his face made even more gentle-looking due to the warmth of the lantern-light radiating across it.

"I realize this is a bit more than we talked about—" Remi said bashfully, running a hand through curls which were still slightly wet and mop-like from the falling snow outside. "—but so much has happened." And he didn't even know about Wessex yet .

Swallowing a bit shakily, Remi moved to place the lanterns near the front where a podium of sorts stood. At least that way he, Ronin, and Rory could be clearly seen and heard by all those who ventured out into the snow to hear them.

remi
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd / Outlander Advisor
Portal Guardian
Age: 29 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 11 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 38 - Endr: 39 - Luck: 40
ISUMA - Mythical - Gryphon (venomous)
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#3
He shouldn't sneak into the settlement in fox-form. At first it had been fine, but too many people knew a white-haired, blue-eyed bard by now and might make connections he was desperate to avoid. He had paced the edge of the woods restlessly, bounding a little ways in but finding himself drawn back to watch the lights starting to come on across the buildings, both broken and restored.

On the other hand it was growing darker, and he blended in to the snow like a ghost. No one could see his eyes like this, and the blond man still hadn't returned. Maybe he was just staying in town for the night? But... maybe not. What if he left from a different place? Who would protect him on his ride home in the dark, distracted by his grief as he was?

When fat white flakes began to fall in earnest Jigano sighed and gathered himself, moving low and fast across the open area between trees and buildings. At first there were fresh horse tracks to follow, but he had the black mare's scent now and there hadn't been so much traffic in the past hour that he couldn't follow it roundabout through the little town, staying to shadows and alleys until the circling trail led him to the center of everything - the Temple, and outside it, the pony he had been tracking.

The Temple was mostly intact. Mostly. Enough to keep a tall human man, perhaps, from wriggling through a crack in the foundations hidden by a trio of skeletal bushes, now covered in snow. A slender fox left a bit of fur on the stonework as he wriggled and crawled inside, finding that it opened up a bit - and then closed, abruptly, the interior plaster still mostly intact. It had crumbled enough to provide a little light, and he could hear what was said - two voices, one belonging to his friend, the other to a stranger - but he couldn't see more than candlelight shadows flickering on the back of a pillar from his vantage. Maybe he was being foolish. Probably he was being foolish. His friend hadn't asked for his help... but he had been hurt. And Jigano wanted to know who Wessex had been...

And as much about the Spire Demon that had killed her as he could gather.
Phoebe Steadman
Midwife / Dean / Health Advisor
Portal Guardian
Age: 19 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 14 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 23 - Luck: 30
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity)
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#4
Phoebe of course showed up when she heard there was going to be a gather to spread information. She wasn't privy to a lot of things, but she did know there were dangers in this world. Dieties. Monsters. Whatever demon had attacked Ronin and Roana. She might not be much use in combatting these things...but it was just as important for her to know what was going on.

Also she wanted to support Remi. She knew he had ventured out on some...mission which had worried her. But he seemed safe now. The young midwife made her way to the gathering spot, bundled in a cloak, mittens, and a hat that was a bit too big and flopped behind her head. She waved Remi when she arrived but otherwise would silently listen.
Phoebe
Be gentle to all and stern with yourself
Roana Steadman
Soldier

Age: 28 | Height: 5'8" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 24 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 24 - Luck: 11
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#5
A gathering to discuss recent events that might help better protect them all and figure out where they were? Count Roana in. She...had been a little lost since coming here...but she undeniably still cared about the wellbeing of these people. Some might note she only wore her broadsword...Krosis still hadn't been recovered. Best not to think on that now.

She stood alongside the gathered, a gloved hand on the hilt of her blade, braided hair damp from the snow. Her expression was serious, almost stormy. The former Captain only knew Ronin of the men at the front...but if he trusted the others she would as well. Roana just hoped this meeting would result in something actionable, something they could do to shape their fate in this new place.
roana
The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone
Zariah Launceleyn
the Merciless
Archmage of the Citadel / Grand Sorceress of the Arcane Academy

Age: 26 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 23 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 10
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#6
Zariah trekked out into the snow for purely selfish reasons. She was a mother. She was a head of a family. She had reasons to be concerned about their welfare. Though she had yet to see anything particularly dangerous in this place she wasn't deaf. She had heard whispers of things. Demons. Monsters. Gods.

Hah. Gods. Sure.

Regardless, information was all any of them had to go on. That was why she had been spending her days focusing on better understanding her magical capabilities in this new place. It was...disappointing to say the least, but she seemed to have more capabilities than other mages brought to this place. Or..abandoned whatevers they were called now. So Zariah showed up, wild curls weighed down with melted snow, her cloak all she wore to keep her warm though she didn't seemed bothered. Silently she would wait to hear what was to be said.
zariah
If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.
Ronin Taliesin
the Dark Star
Monster Hunter

Age: 27 | Height: 5'10 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 26 - Endr: 26 - Luck: 30
SUGAR - Mythical - Dragon (ice breath)
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#7
R O N I N


"Sorry I'm late..." Ronin's voice echoed from down one of the corridors - the one leading to the infirmary, funnily enough. He wasn't injured, at least; on the contrary, the guildmaster hadn't looked this well in some time. He was dressed against the snow and the ice, his newly acquired gauntlet on his left hand and the glove he'd named Snakebite on his right. The Temple was lit in soft tones and he smiled as he spotted his two friends.

"Rory, I'm glad you could make it. As Remi said... a lot has happened." He had heard about Wessex, though. He'd been the one to peel Edrei's insides up off the guildhall floor and wait for a healer to put them back in her. Blinking quickly to rid himself of that delightful image, he took a deep breath and let it out again. They may as well start now, and see what came of this meeting.

"We're here to try and pool as much information we can about the Spire and the monster that guards it," he said, loud enough that it might carry to those still arriving. "We'll start by sharing what we know and any other developments that might have since occurred." He flexed his gauntleted hand. "But I believe that soon we'll be able to face the creature again. And win."



Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 29 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 28
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#8

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

The Reaper should’ve been used to the steady beat of ignorance melding its way across his brow – it whispered, it hissed, it coiled a staccato rhythm along his skull. You don’t know anything it would say in hushed layers, cackling in the wind. You don’t know what you’re doing, it would nestle in his munitions, in his invocations, in the deadly sanctions of his nefarious schemes. What could you possibly do? it asked, iniquitous and seditious, spread along the plains of his veins like seething embers, molten coals. The more he wandered into the midst of this world, the less he understood; too many gods, too many demons, too many myths, legends, and stories he was so woefully unfamiliar with. Though he’d dove headfirst into action, assisting in building, in restoration for an earth with all its furtive secrets, the rest of the void was so thick with its duplicity and treachery that it almost caused him to pause. It required more deliberation, more machinations, more cold-blooded calculations, but his awareness of what lay within the deep, dark abyss might’ve even been enough to strangle the beast; he preferred the art of war over the pungent, serpentine duplicity, the hollowed ciphers, and the enigmatic discord wrapping around their throats.

The notion of announcements and information led him down to the Temple. He’d only strayed as far as the bar and the library, never once announcing his oaths, proclamations, or vows to gods. He’d been abandoned and forsaken long ago, back when he’d fallen to his knees and begged, pleaded for things to come back to him, for those he cherished and loved to be more than salt of the earth, than dust in the sand, than ash in the wind; and there’d been no answer. Instead, any convictions or promises were proffered to individuals, to people, to those who whittled their way into his soul.

The piercing depths of his eyes caught the lighted candles, the small gathering of others, clustering together, uniting under something; the din always made him cautious, because he’d seen the world unravel in an instant. He offered nods to those he knew or recognized, Remi, Ronin, others nearby were given a grim set of his features, the usual nonchalance and reticence formed along his face. He took a space towards the back, along the shadows, out of habit; away, surveying, scrutinizing, galvanized and ready for the damnation sure to take place: he might’ve been a slow learner, but he remembered, recalled, consigned memories to his mind. The way gazes shifted, stares held, only meant good news wasn’t completely forthcoming; he had nothing to add in the way of the giant, towering Spire, ignoring it presently, but there were developments, something else, crackling beneath the surface.


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
Leatherworker

Age: 29 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8
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#9
stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires
So he found himself in the interior of the Temple, but it was not dim and dark as he had expected: it was lit with candles and lanterns, bright and cozy and homely, as if prepared for something. Remi, carrying lanterns, moved towards him. Bright spots, swimming, dizzying, as Rory—a wild-eyed animal—tried to catch up with a reality so disconnected from his.

And suddenly Remi was there, in front of him, smiling, bashful, apologetic, sweet. Rory swallowed and closed his eyes. Wessex's death had made him forget he was supposed to be here, anyway; Remi had told him to come by. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had been told. Rory let out a long, slow sigh and opened his eyes, drifting behind the Alchemist and to the front of the room. Rory ill liked this sort of attention.

"Wessex is dead," he said to Remi, voice dull, eyes complicated. One of his fingers traced the hot outline of a lantern, relishing in the bite from the warm metal.

He didn't exactly get further though. People were spilling in through the temple doors, seeking their places in the crowd, and Ronin called from somewhere further away before striding into the room like he belonged there, at the front. He easily took control of the meeting, stating its purpose, his optimism, and Rory—trapped at the front—wanted to melt through the floor.

Ronin could believe what he wanted, and when the monster tore him up, he could stop believing. Dispirited and still affected by what he had learned, Rory simply said, "Wessex is dead," as his eyes scanned the crowd. A few Naturals has slipped in as well. Maybe some of them had known her. "The Spire's guardian got to her." Why or how, he didn't know. Wessex ought to have been smarter than that.

Unless she was fired up with the beliefs of these Outlanders, that they could take the demon on; or maybe she had something to prove, that they could do it without them.

Regardless, Rory didn't say anything else, just fell silent, eyes downcast. He had expected a quiet meeting between the three of them. He hadn't been prepared to deal with all of this.
burn scars crawl up the left side of his neck and onto the lower left half of his face
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Hand of the Queen / Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 12 - Strg: 34 - Dext: 34 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 34
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#10
She slips into the gathering as announcements begin, a slender piece of sunlight on the Deepfrost day. Still unsure about Outlanders, it is the presence of Rory that draws Amalia in, overcomes her anxieties and convinces her this meeting may matter. Besides, Caido is sill her world, regardless of the massive influx of strangers and unknowns, rootless figures who glide on her earth and try to act as though they belong.

Some of them have even grown familiar. As Amalia enters the hall she spots Deimos standing nearby, the towering figure difficult to miss even in this gathering of fur-wrapped men. Quietly the girl slides up beside him, a nod and a smile offered to the man before her attention turns to Ronin, as the Outlander begins to speak- of fighting the Spire Monster, besting it, and the girl's heart clenches in her chest. Will doing so... free them? The Old Ones, her Old Ones, so long locked away?

The good news dies quickly, as good news does. Rory's voice is a dead weight, a heavy thud upon her ears, and the gasp Amalia utters in response seems loud enough to fill the room. Wessex is dead. Wessex, the Ascended, the ire-filled, her friend-

Wessex, who helped rebuild the bakery Amalia though was lost-

Wessex, who she cared about, when she cared about so few-

"No-!" Amalia exclaims quietly, her voice weak with shock. Dark eyes try to meet Rory 's blue, to gain some assurance that it isn't true, can't be true. Hasn't the world taken enough from her? From them? Wessex knew better, had known better, than to taunt the demon of the Spire. Tears form in the girl's eyes; she clenches her fists, suddenly angry, boiling, alight with loss and indignant rage. If Ronin wants to fight the spire monster, the girl will do all she can to assist, weak and weary as she may be. She owes it to her Gods.

She owes it to her friend.

amalia chandrakant
we might be hollow, but we're brave
image credits
Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 35 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
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#11

Quite the empathetic creature, Remi's expression softly crumpled as the lantern light contoured the lines of sadness on his friend's face. Before he could ask what it was troubling the man, Rory provided the answer. Though the alchemist did not know Wessex, it hardly mattered. Inhaling sharply, his face a tapestry of sadness and sorrow, one of his hands instinctively reached forward. But reached to do what? To take Rory's hand? To place it on his shoulder? To remove the lantern and gently kiss the pads of his fingers which had lingered too long on the hot metal?

Remi didn't know, and so his hand fell back to his side. "I am so sorry Rory." He whispered, pale stare flickering to and fro from Rory's eyes, to his lips, to his fingers upon the lantern.

The wave from Phoebe caught his attention, and the alchemist hazarded a tentative smile her way just as Ronin joined them. As the former-captain began to address the room, Remi smiled apologetically at Rory before taking a breath and turning to face the crowd as well.

"There is more." Remi added, his thickly accented voice easily filling the space despite his utter lack of experience addressing a room or congregation of this size. "A number of us found a shrine in the Underground. There was a being there, she called herself The Voice and said that we freed her. Two of the ascended with us drank from her, and she offered to ascend another member of our group—" Pausing, Remi gave a sideways smile towards Amalia before continuing. "—who declined. It is possible that she is one of the New Gods written about in some of the books in the Atheneum."

Clearing his throat slightly, Remi swallowed hard feeling uncertain and uncomfortable about explaining this next portion. Perhaps it was because Jigano had made him to feel a fool for bartering for this information, or perhaps it was simply because the encounter itself was so strange to think of. Even so, the alchemist took another breath before continuing. "I spoke with one of the other gods here, Ludo. I asked about the barrier and how we might leave here—" Desperately Remi wanted to look towards Rory as if he owed the man an apology for this, but instead kept his gaze focused on the crowd. "—it said we would need help from the ascended...and that the answers about how to leave would be found at the Spire. It was a long shot, but given the creature that guards it, myself and two others flew to the top of the Spire to see if perhaps a way in could be found." Casting his eyes down, Remi frowned sadly and shook his head. "Unfortunately there was nothing to find."

So saying, the alchemist fell silent, glancing towards Ronin to see if the ex-captain had anything more to add.

remi
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Edrei Launceleyn
the Rapacious
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds / Rathskeller Owner

Age: 21 | Height: 5'7 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 21 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 3
BOBI - Regular - Bobcat
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#12
edy
stage direction: insert some heavily audio-engineered pop beat heard at least 3 drinks in
Edy had hobbled her ass in and slumped in the back. She was still recovering (a slow and fucking painful process), but perhaps not as painful as hearing Wessex's name.

Wessex.

That was the hot bitch's name. It stung like the monster's claws in her side to hear it, and something in the way the woman at the front so venomously responded to the claim made Edy wince and recoil. Edy was there when Wessex died, and here were these two sad-eyed idiots (Rory and Amalia) who actually knew her.

It felt as though their memories discredited her pain and longing . As if whatever she felt for the woman and the brief moment of sheer fuckery and then horror didn't matter.

But it did.

It fucking did.

"We gonna kill it or what, cap?" Edy barked from the back, arms wrapped around her healing body defensively. "Cause that fucker seemed not to like fire, and I got lots more with its name on it."
Messenger

Age: 21 | Height: 5'0" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 7 (lvl 3 Attuned) - Strg: 10 - Dext: 27 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14
PERCY - Mythical - Unicorn (Superspeed) SOOT - Regular - Wine Spider
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#13
   The day Ashe was later for something might arrive sooner or later, but today was not that day. She sat entirely still in a darkened corner, moving ocassionally so she didn't vanish entirely, brilliant eyes watching each entering figure carefully. Her corner was positioned towards the front, facing the gathering people, and she had no desire to expose her abilities. It seemed quite a few wanted to understand more about that vile thing that clung to the Spire. The thought that maybe the naturals must have something to offer, but she could very well be wrong about that. If they had been in this place for generations and still hadn't defeated it, then maybe they they had nothing useful at all to contribute. Either way... at least the turnout was promising. Then again, there had been plenty of meetings full of bodies that went nowhere and accomplished nothing. Ronin's arrival had her at least hopeful that this would be different. It had to be - no petty politicians and bluebloods that couldn't have cared less about the dangers plaguing them.

   Ashe cast her eyes up  at the still figure beside her. He might not have been able to literally vanish from sight, but he might as well have for how well he blended into stone and shadow. She stirred, uncrossing her arms and pushing off the wall with a glance at Kalt and a nod of her head. She hadn't spoken with him about the spire demon at length, not yet, but he knew enough to be interested and want to come with her. With that look, she moved forward until she stood nearby Ronin and off to the side, settling her eyes on him. Introductions later. She supposed having Kalt and Ronin meet was overdue, but now wasn't the time. Right now...

   She didn't know Wessex and didn't comment, tucking the information away as she wondered at how exactly the demon killed her. Then Remi spoke up, talking about the gods... the voice? And.. Ludo. Ashe crossed her arms over her chest as she glanced at Kalt, jaw feathering before she returned her attention to the discussion. She had long since suspected that the spire held the key to their freedom. Time to fry up a demon. She glanced at Kalt once more before she looked at Edrei, eyes sparking as she looked back at Ronin. "It sure as hell got pissed at my lightning," Ashe added. "Whatever that thing is made up of burns like tinder." She could still smell it's burning body, see whatever that shit was inside it. A muscle feathered in her jaw. She could still see it's face as it spun and screeched at her through her lightning, razor teeth saturated in Ronin's blood.


ashe
Welcome to my darkness
I've been here a while.


Always in a partial shift with fangs, pointed ears, and acute senses.
Force and magic may be used against her.
Click for Percy!
Alistair Valentus
Monster Hunter

Age: 25 | Height: 6' 0 | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
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#14
ALISTAIR
Gods were real, that much knew now. The world seemed so much larger now knowing something beyond existed. Involuntarily Alistair's eyes gazed upward when Rory and Remi spoke, especially Remi as he too apparently communicated with the gods.

He glanced around to see if Rexanna had by chance passed through this gathering as well, though her interactions with the gods seemed much more...intimate.

Alistair had lingered in the distance, away from the gathering but close enough to hear and see everyone in attendance. Fingers gently tapped the interior of his mask as he held it low to his thigh.

Dark eyes sifting through the crowd as he looked over Ashetta and the man that appeared to have her company in every gathering since. Not that he was a stranger to bodies keeping him warm since. He smirked to himself...misery loves company, he supposed before he looked over and saw Roana . Had she somehow spotted Alistair would offer a brief nod and smile before returning his attention to Rory, Remi, and his dear friend Ronin

Progress, in any shape or form was still progress. Perhaps now they could begin to piece together just what exactly had happened here.


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