Edited my character sheet. Changes include a slightly expanded backstory and some further clarification as to the extent and limits of his powers, as well as some general housekeeping.
Well, Sir House linked me, so I might as well make a sheet...
Name: Josslyn Irma
Age: 14
Gender: Female
Profession: Merchant
Superhuman Ability: Environmental Manipulation
While not strictly natural things, Josslyn has only mastered the power up to the point of using it to change simple things in minerals and plants, and even then it's quite hard. She hasn't branched out or trained with it much due to the monks not allowing it, but she still uses it every now and again on rocks to reshape them.
[link]http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Environmental_Manipulation[/link]
Personality (Angry): Josslyn is largely bitter and angry over losing her father at the age of eleven, and has lashed out at people that remind her of her past ever since. She does calm down sometimes, though, and is especially calmed by the natural world and quiet. She's nervous at night, however, and tries to stay indoors. While not a practitioner of any real religions, she enjoys the simplicity and symbols, as well as the idea of peace and prosperity in a land of the religion of the Iyou Mountains.
Background: (Happy, Iyuo Mountains) Josslyn was the daughter of a merchant in the Iyuo Mountains. She never knew her mother, only her father (her father said that it was because she was taken by an evil wizard, but Joslllyn realized later that her mother had simply left soon after her birth), and they moved around the area, going from monastery to monastery and selling simple trade goods and tools to the monks. This filled a niche in the market, as her father like to tell her, and was actually far safer than selling in many other areas of the world. Josslyn enjoyed the travel, but also enjoyed the time spent with her father, as it made her a stronger person. She grew used to the rugged mountains and lack of civilization, and has a love of nature.
One night, three years ago, though, while camping in a mountain pass near the Reaak border, Josslyn's caravan was raided by bandits. Her father and several other men of the caravan fought against them. The bandits quickly killed them, stole anything either useful or worth anything, and left. While the caravan managed to make it's way to a nearby monastery, Josslyn has been an angry and bitter young woman, striking out at anyone who reminds her of her father, the members of the caravan, or the bandits ever since.
The remainder of the caravan, having no clue what to do with Josslyn, left her at the monastery and continued on. While the monks do take care of her, she doesn't participate in the religion actively, instead preferring to brood in her room most days. She did have a small garden that she takes care of, and it's one of the few things that gave her solace and calms her.
It was during a when she was gardening that she discovered her powers. She was working on a rock garden, but couldn't quite get it right. One of the rocks needed to be slightly larger and sharper in order to allow a water feature to go through at a proper speed. After a half hour of trying, she threw a stone at a wall in anger. While it did not break, it instead molded into the exact shape she needed. She tried this on several other things, turning an area where sand and soil met into just one of the two, turning a blue flower red, and rejuvenating a dying plant.
While at first she was joyed by this revelation, Josslyn's power was soon discovered by the monks, who saw her as a descendant of Loae and disallowed her from dirtying herself with the soil and took over her garden, making it far more beautiful, but also impersonal and surgical, where every flower was arranged perfectly. She now mostly spends her time either in her chambers, in the main chamber of the monastery, or in what was formerly her garden, and she occupies her time by reading and taking walks through the garden.
Appearance: Stands five feet six inches tall, has a slim build, long brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. She looks in age to be roughly fourteen to seventeen, depending on clothing and care for appearance. She prefers to not wear jewelery, finding it uncomfortable and abrasive. Her face is often at least slightly made-up by the monks, which she dislikes, but puts up with.
Additional Information: Wears largely the robes of the monks she lives with, as they buy few clothes for her that are different from their own. The few she does have are mostly conservative dresses purchased from other traveling merchants. She has one pair of working and traveling clothes, those being the ones she arrived in. They fit poorly, but could still be used if need be.
Superhuman Ability: Second Sight - The ability to see into the future, as well as seeing otherwise unobservable events. Naturally, his powers have limits - omniscient heroes are no fun. He can only see a few seconds into the future with true reliability, and his visions become vague and incomprehensible the further he casts them into the future - his ultimate limit being two days for self-induced visions. However, he occasionally has premonitions in his dreams that cast much farther forward than several days, though he has no control over their frequency and topic.
His powers also give him the ability to see into the past, but also with a limit - he can only see details when he has something in the present to act as a focus, the more directly related to his intended vision, the better. For example, he can't just 'see' the person that assassinated a noble out of hand, but if given the dagger accused of being the murder weapon he could.
BackgroundExile) Garret's seen it all. Growing up as a scribe to the Jeenda, a prominent family in the Reaak Kingdom, he's hardly a stranger to greed, cruelty, and political intrigue - but nothing could have prepared him for the day at the ripe age of 17 that he published a treatise condemning the actions of another powerful family - the Bavvard - at the behest of his employer. Furious, the Bavaard family used their many connections to the king's court to have Garret arrested, any copies of his treatise burned, and moved to usurp his employers as formal rulers over the county.
The night before, however, Garret had a strange premonition in a dream - his first ever - that warned him that great danger awaited him if he stayed in the Reaak Kingdoms. As he fled, he had another vision, this one of the present, showing his former employers being dragged away in chains. Disillusioned with his homeland and fleeing for his life, he ran to the Iyuo Mountains, where he stays to this day.
Today he trains in hand to hand combat and meditates with the monks of the order to hone his powers, ever vigilant for the inevitable Bavvard assassin - or for the opportunity to take his revenge.
PersonalityPessimistic) Deeply pessimistic after being ran out of his homeland, he hides his fears and insecurities behind a thick veneer of sarcasm. He's pretty convinced that the world is a nasty and unpleasant place. Much of this sour attitude has to do with the impact his powers have had over his psyche - his prescience causes him a feeling of dread whenever somebody nearby is about to experience ill fortune. The resulting pall of gloom hangs over him like a dark shadow, and has stressed his ability to emotionally cope. As a result, he avoids population centers where he can.
Still, he has a strong sense of justice and will help the oppressed and downtrodden where he can. Utterly reviles those that take what they have by force or through dirty politics. Often comes across as mildly paranoid, particularly in large crowds. His abrasive nature is difficult to get past, but is a fiercely loyal friend once you do.
Other information - 5'11" and of average build. Black hair, Brown eyes. These days he's usually seen in the white robes of the order of monks that took him in; they offered him room and board and assistance in controlling his powers in exchange for his services as a scribe in copying and translating their holy texts - or so they say. In reality, once Garret demonstrated his powers and asked for assistance in controlling them, the head monk of his monastery proclaimed that Garret was a herald of Loae's return their world. He offered Garret his assistance on one condition - that he would not hesitate to take up his destiny when Loae called.
One of his most prized possessions is a satchel his father gave him before he died, stark black and roughly the size of a backpack. He takes it with him wherever he goes.
Personality: (Cheery) Amata is most definetely the cheery sort. Ever smiling, keeping a good attitude and hardly ever found to be in a mood lower then rather happy. She completely believes that all people have good in them, that nobody is truly selfish and will always have the will to do selfless acts of kindness within them.
Amata has dedicated herself and her Ability to helping other people, seeing it as the very reason she was given it. However she doesn't always like to be the only thing to sort out people's problems, as she thinks that if she fixes everything then people would end up dependant on others and worse off in the long wrong. While she does sometimes sort things out on her own, if she thinks the person can fix it themself then she does her best to make them be the ones to sort it out so they can become better for it.
Background: (Survival/The Iyuo Mountains) Born in the Iyuo Mountains Amata always expected to live a "typical" life of simple living and meditation. She did things like any other child in the Iyou Mountains would, not entirely happy but certainly not sad with her life. It was just how things were to her, she would live like this for the rest of her life... Well she thought she would at least. Up until the point where she found that she could change her size at will.
While some would have assumed they were something special, perhaps a member of one of the five families, Amata had no such beliefs. Neither did she particularly think she was less then Human. In fact she purposefully kept her powers secret in order to make sure nobody thought of her like that. She didn't want to be treated like that, she knew for sure that she was no greater or lesser then the average person. Still she was clueless on what she should do.
That was when she decided to go further away from society, higher up into the mountains, to meditate on her situation on her own. Without using her powers once she spent a whole month on her own meditating, surviving just on the brink of life, until she came to a conclusion on the path she felt she should take.
It was obvious to her in the end. This power was meant for helping people! Perfect! Believing that with the title of a "Knight of the People" she would be able to better help people she took it up, calling herself a Knight from then on.
Name: Rafiq Alves Gender: Male Age: 31 Description: Rafiq stands at 6'2" (188 cm), making him a rather imposing figure when combined with his muscled physique and a large coat of assorted furs and hides. He has short, black hair, though it is barely visible under a hood. (Yeh, this is going to be not as short later. Gonna go into detail about facial features and the rest of his clothing most likely) Profession: Hunter Superhuman Ability: Lateral Repulsion [http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Lateral_Repulsion] Personality: (Optimistic) Rafiq is a true optimist, seeing the brighter side of every occurrence and believing that even the bad things in the world happen for the sake of the greater good. This isn't to say that he is always smiling; even an optimist knows that bad things happen in the world and that they are nothing to be pleased about. One cannot ignore the suffering of people in other lands, but Rafiq is sure that the awakening of his power signalled the beginning of the end for that suffering. It will all be worth it in some way, even if he has to make it so. (Also probably going to be not as short? I dunno. We'll see how it pans out)
Background: (Hidden) Rafiq has lived in the Iyuo Mountains from the day he was born and not even once stepped off them. His family has made up generations upon generations of hunters, sampling the very worst of the Iyuo's weather to get furs, hides and meat for others.
The first and by far most important milestone of this man's life was the day on which he awoke to his innermost power. He did so at the innocent and young age of 11; he became unable to pick up his hunting supplies as they shifted away from him. The more annoyed he got at this, the more they rushed away from him. He only really caught on when he gave up and managed to knock himself over by repulsing himself from the floor to his left. Though completely unsure of what might have happened and what he might have just done it would be many more years before he learned to harness the power.
By the age of 15 he had integrated the power into his work, repulsing arrows to give them much greater force and travelling to new areas of the mountain that he had only been able to stare at from across valleys before. By 20 he had mastered such skills, able to kill his prey with no bow at all by repulsing arrows, rocks and even sticks straight from his hands with deadly force. Being able to hunt with no weapons to worry over gave him a huge advantage over other hunters, allowing him to make a much better living than his parents had. For the rest of his life he has kept mainly to the status quo, using his powers to indirectly benefit those around him without letting them in on his secret.
Name: Jordanes Roi
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Occupation: Tailor
Superpower: Spiritual Meditation
http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Spiritual_Meditation
Background (Excitement/Wanderer):
Jordanes Roi was born in a small village into an average family, with the exception of his mother dying when she gave birth to her son. His father was a tailor, and his son was intended to become one as well, but one fateful day the 7-year old Jordanes awakened to his powers of spiritual meditation during a small fight with a local bully. Later that day, he explained his father how he closed his eyes during the fight, felt absolutely serene and was able to draw strength to defeat the physically superior bully with.
His father realized that there were supernatural forces in his son, and both confused and scared with this he told his son to never use his powers again, knowing that would people find out that he was a Scion, he could never live a normal life in the village, the life he wanted his son to have.
However, Jordanes did not listen to his father but instead attempted to explore his powers and draw as much power as he could from the spiritual world. His father, thinking the best of his son, threw him into the cellar of their house for three days as a punishment for disobeying his orders. Little did he know, the boy was possessed by the excitement of this new world he had discovered and could not leave it be. During his time in the cellar, he reached even farther to the spiritual world, and found "enlightenment" which he had been craving for. But the little Jordanes' mind was not ready, not developed enough to be able to process what he had learned....
After his father opened the cellar door 3 days later and was about to let his son go, Jordanes leaped at his father, slashing his throat open with the sickle he had found in the basement. The next day, other villagers came to Roi's house, worried about the family. They found little Jordanes on his knees next to his father's body, holding his head, rocking back and forth while mumbling "The spirits told me to do it...". Horrified by the act, the villagers locked "The Demon Child" into an abandoned shack on the outskirts of the village...
Jordanes eventually escaped his imprisonment and wandered ever since that day. He has no goals or dreams, all his actions are driven by what the spirits tell him to do, resulting in him being extremely unstable. Whether or not the spirits are real or fabrications of his twisted mind is anybody's guess.
Now he just spends his life trying to unlock the secrets of the human mind and body with the help of his god-given powers and attempting to satisfy his (endless) wanderlust and making the most out of life through simple things like food, while still trying to do his best to adhere to every whim of the spirits shrouding his mind.
Personality (Insane):
Jordanas Roi is a man of earthly delights. Never turning down a good meal or a feast, the wanderer is always looking to fill his stomach, resulting in his slightly overweight appearance. His hunger is also what has resulted in him being a "sword for hire" on multiple occasions as nothing in this world is free, yet his irrational nature and the whispers of the spirits have ruined many of the aforementioned jobs (For example, Roi was once hired as an escort for a small time merchant; the gig ended on the merchant having his neck snapped, because that was the wish of the spirits).
Roi however seems to have a soft spot for animals, preferring to avoid using violence against them.
But even as a man of simple things, he has no interest in women, as he seems to be unable to view them in any way as sexual beings. His appearances keep women away most of the time however, as an insane, overweight and poor man dressed in rags he looted from some poor monk's corpse is nothing to be sought after. Both women and children are just smaller men to him; he doesn't care about the age or the gender of those he meets.
The only loyalty he knows is for the spirits who have shrouded his mind; do not expect him to follow you through fire and flames unless that is the will of the spirits.
The man is rather calm most of the time, however questioning the existence of the spirits he claims to hear angers him, and that action is rarely left unpunished.
Despite being an irrational maniac, he is very trusting in others. Rarely suspecting others of lies or foul play, he takes most things at face value.
The spirits do not often interfere with his actions; most of the time he is acting on his own accord, and only for his own good. Ready to even kill innocent children for a good meal, this man with no compassion or morals is hard to understand for many, and therefore often feared.
Additional info:
Dressed in raggy, dirty clothes of a monk who's been long dead, he is a short (5'6), overweight man with a bad posture and a long, greasy black hair flowing down his back. Most of the time he covers the majority of his face with a hood. He carries a staff decorated with strange carvings on his back; other belongings he does not keep with him, preferring to keep his load light while travelling across the lands. The only thing that catches the eye of the common folk is his only accessory, a silver pendant with the sun carved on it. Otherwise an unremarkable piece of jewelry, it feels out of place on the neck of this ragged wanderer.
Name: Redd Van Nifterick
Age: 28
Profession: Hunter
Superhuman Ability: http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Speed_Force
Has superior perceptions to a normal human being, time compresses for him by a large factor and his movements become moderately faster as well, however the main thing that his power greatly enhances is perception.
Personality (Depressed): Redd's experiences in the world have left him cynical and rather antisocial. He has never truly experienced friendship and never had a proper loving family, as a result Redd rarely has any emotions that surface, but has learned to fake them excellently and act graciously in society despite hating it. Redd sees very little in life but does not entertain suicidal thoughts as he has no reason to believe the next life could be any better. The only thing Redd desires is freedom from other human beings.
Background (Exiled): Redd was born as a minor noble in the kingdom of Reaak. His father, Alexander Van Nifterick, was a viscount and as a result Redd enjoyed a fairly opulent life style. Redd never met his mother, he was told that she died at birth, which is a common thing in this age. Around the age of 14 he was invited alongside his father to one of the king's hunts. The thrill of the hunt soon infected Redd and his favorite activity became hunting. Much to the dismay of his father, instead of caring about financial issues or bettering his status amongst nobles, Redd had a care-free spirit and mainly desired to learn archery and hunting. After fruitless attempts to control his interests, Alexander gave up and allowed his son to do whatever he wishes. A rift formed between Redd's father and himself as Alexander was very much business minded and did not care for "petty distractions" that would capture Redd's attention. The atmosphere between the two was tense from that point forward.
4 years later, Redd not only became rather skilled in hunting but became immoderate even for an adolescent. Alcohol and women were the main attractions, though his interest in hunting did not completely fade. This further estranged Redd from his father. Redd's wild child phase diminshed significantly when he fell in love with Areeya, the daughter of the Duke of Nasphor. Redd was a barely tolerated presence there due to the fact that the Duke's daughter was also madly in love with Redd. Lacking any proper prudence Redd had several affairs with Areeya, unbeknownst to the Duke or Alexander. As a result Areeya became pregnant and when that became apparent the Duke immediately knew that Redd was to blame.
The Duke was outraged and out for blood. His influence was significant and Redd sought help from the only person who could provide it - his father. Alexander has incredibly disappointed, furious and hated Redd for wasting so much of his time and resources. He revealed that Redd was actually adopted from a woman of common birth and that he no longer had a place in his house. What Alexander did not reveal is that his impotence was the reason he was forced to secretly adopt a baby, bribe several midwives and murder his own wife when she threatened to reveal the whole charade. Alexander invested and risked a lot in adopting a commoner to continue his bloodline but he came to hate his investment. In the end the only help Alexander gave Redd was a boot in the arse and a pouch of money. None of Redd's friends desired to help either.
Redd was shaken by recent events. He had no idea how he would sustain himself. Would he ever be able to see Areeya? And more importantly would he be able to evade the Duke's wrath who vowed to make Redd pay with his life. Redd decided to head to the region of Vendrad. He arrived at the city of Venith, reasonably far from the Duke's influence but not completely out of it. The Duke would surely not leave this grudge be for years to come, he was famous for his vengeful nature. Redd started earning a living the only way he could. Hunting. He had no other worthwhile skills besides knowing to read and write and no one was interested in those.
The difference between the lavish lifestyle that he led and the poverty he now faced greatly depressed Redd. He started living in Venith in the slums paying monthly rent to the landlord and constantly fearing that the Duke's men might find him. One night they did. Redd was alone in his house when the Duke's men suddenly broke into the place. Redd didn't know what to do, his chances of defending himself against several mercenaries with a dagger were nil. Adrenaline started rushing through Redd's veins as the mercenaries approached him ready to run him through without any mercy. Time compressed, Redd clutched his dagger tightly, feeling the leathery grip of the weapon, his pupils widened and simply stopped thinking. In an instant all of mercenaries had their throats slit. The bodies fell to the floor emitting a sonorous *thump* alongside the heavy clinking of chainmail smashing against the ground. Redd could fully grasp what he had done only once all of the mercenaries had hit the ground and bled out. The realization hit him like a a ton of bricks. Redd immediately had an uncontrollable reaction to puke at the sight of so much death. Before he could properly collect his thoughts Redd decided to flee the city.
His saving grace was finding an abandoned cottage in the nearby woods where he again sustained himself by hunting while slowly discovering his amazing powers. Little did Redd know that he would stop being a hunter of animals and become a hunter of man.
Appearance: Redd has a thin, slightly muscular build and stands at 165cm / 5' 4". His hair is pitch-dark, of medium length and tied in a pony tail. Redd is clean shaven and has somewhat of a baby face with fine features and youthful appearance, but contrasted with his extremely tired eyes and dark circles under them.
Additional Information:
Name: Judah Eldad
Age: 26
Profession: Guard
Superhuman Ability: http://powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Fire_Sealing
Personality: The things which Judah has experienced in his relatively short life have left him rather bitter and jaded. Though he tries not to let it consume him, and for the most part it does not, it still seeps into his outward face in the form of frequent sarcasm. He tries to be charitable and kind but is quick to being snarky, and in extreme cases, incredibly angry. Though he hates the world he hates himself even more, prone to self loathing quick to shoot down his own ideas. Paradoxically he is also rather self-pitying, of the ?No one has it worse off than me? kind.
Background: Judah had a fairly easy life in his early days. He lived in one of the smaller monasteries on the Reaak border. His father, Isaac, was a doctor who was charitable enough to help anyone who came to the monastery, even if they did not have the coin. His mother, Judith, was a herbalist and spent her time preparing and gathering herbs for his father?s medicines. Judah would often help his father in less severe cases that came to the monastery but spent more time assisting his mother in her work. They grew their own crops and were fairly self sufficient, never going hungry and living fairly comfortably.
One day, When Isaac was 18, a battalion from the Reaakan army arrived at the monastery and barged in oafishly. They demanded that the crops be given to them as rations and Isaac tend to their wounded. While having no problem with the latter, Isaac and Judith protested the former, as they needed the crops to survive through the winter. They suggested instead that Isaac tend to the wounded, they be given and few herbs and a few supplies, then they would be on their way. The Battalion agreed, took what they could get and left. Isaac and Judith feared the return of the Battalion, as they did not seem particularly pleased about the compromise, and so set about packing up their things to leave before they came back.
While they were about to leave one of the Brothers of the monastery ran in and declared to everyone that a band of raiders were approaching, and demanding that the monastery give them Isaac, along with all their crops and supplies. The Iyuites were opposed to the idea and so told the raiders that Isaac had left earlier that day while the family made their escape. The raiders seemed to not take kindly to being refused and so slaughtered the monks and burnt the monastery to the ground, taking the crops and salting the earth. Judah?s family watched from a nearby pass. They waited until the raiders had passed on, prayed to Loae that the monks be taken into the second world for their mercy, buried the bodies, and moved higher into the mountains.
Judah and his family moved into a village higher into the mountains, rumoured to be the home of a Scion. They prospered there and hoped to be kept safe by the descendant of the Families. Things seemed to be getting better when Judith was found to be pregnant. Joyous months passed as Isaac and Judah prepared for the child?s arrival. However, when the day came, Judith died in labour, and Judah?s sister was stillborn. Isaac, mentally weakened by the Monastery event, was crushed by this and later poisoned himself. Judah went on to become extremely depressed, blaming himself not only for not trying to defend the monastery, but for not being able to prevent his father?s suicide. Deciding to try and find redemption, he took up the life style of a monk, but found it to be too passive and did not consider it to be redeeming himself at all. Becoming a guard was his next decision, trying to become a guardian of the people. He came ahead in his troop in training, but he wasn?t considered good enough to become part of the Abbot?s guard, and so was assigned as a recently discovered Scion?s guard.
He was happy with this decision. He believed that if he guarded the Scion until she grew strong enough to help others, he?d be a guardian of the people by proxy. When he saw his charge, he was reminded of his mother and how he?d imagine his little sister would. Judah was overcome with a brotherly instinct for her, replacing the younger sibling that he had lost years before. He discovered his powers recently when he lost his temper with his charge massively and sealed a brick he punched, causing it to explode. He has been trying to keep it a secret from the monks, so they do not smother him with concern, but has been practicing control of it.
Appearance: Judah stands at a size that is actually rather tall compared to the average Iyuite, which many have taken to mean he?s actually a descendant of one of the other lands, mostly likely Reeak. Due to his profession, regular exercise and limitation of diet, he has a rather skinny figure that still packs some slight muscle in his limbs. He wears his uniform of a monk?s white and blue robe, with leather armour and plate pauldrons, gauntlets and boots. His hair is long and naturally black, tied back in a long pony tail. As is traditional with guards of Iyuo, his hair is dyed blue and white, with bits of his natural hair colour showing. His face is clean and round, but his green eyes are dark and baggy due to a lack of sleep (Guarding is a full time job). He has a few nicks and scars on his face from training. He is rarely seen without his Aspis Style Shield and his Dory Style Spear, standard guard equipment.
Additional Information: Still meditates regularly.
I need you to do an opening post of your character in their natural environment being knocked out and captured by bandits, anyone who does not post in the next 2 days will be out of the RP and replaced by the runner up applicant.
He sat, cross-legged, in a field of ethereal grass. The form and shape of the ground around him shifted and twisted at the ebb and flow of his mind. It was still when his was clear, violent when not. Normally, the grass cut at his mind, constantly shifting at the borders of his consciousness, but not today.
Today, his meditation was silent. The grass laid still, his mind clear and and his purpose singular - to keep it that way.
"Garret."
The call seemed distant - shouted from a voice miles away. Garret paid it little heed and continued.
"Garret!"
This call was loud enough to jar his focus, though only briefly. After a quick spasm, the grass resettled.
"GARRET!"
At this, a flash of pain erupted at the back of his head, and all at once, he rejoined the material world, sitting, cross-legged, in a patch of very real grass.
"SON OF A... That hurt!"
"I wouldn't need to do that if you'd come when I call you." The man standing over him, the head monk Master Shen, in his late fifties and garbed in white robes, motioned for Garret to stand.
"I have an errand I'd like you to run in town." Garret visibly tensed at these words.
"In town? Uh..." He briefly cast his vision around the monastery courtyard, his eyes landing on a fellow monk. "Brother Tai doesn't seem busy. Why not send him?"
"Because I asked YOU do to it, not Brother Tai." Seeing Garret's growing distress, Shen sighed and put his hand on his shoulder. "Garret, I know it's hard, but you can't run from your problems forever. Consider it a part of your training."
Garret made a motion to protest, but realized the futility before he finished. With a resigned sigh, he asked, "What would you have me do, Master?"
"Just head into town and talk to Mordekai. He's just gotten in our shipment of ink and parchment, and I want you to inspect it before it's sent in."
"Yes, Master Shen. Consider it done." With a bow, he gathered his satchel and left the monastery, trekking down the dirt road that lead to town.
.....
'Don't panic. DON'T PANIC. My meditation went well. If I focus, I can block it out.'
No sooner than he had that thought, however, and the familiar pall of dread began to creep into his mind. 'Deep breath, Garret. Block it out.' He paused briefly and centered himself, and relaxed as it left his mind.
However, as he returned to himself, he realized he wasn't even halfway to town. 'It doesn't normally start to come until I'm at the outskirts. That means...' Alarmed, he tensed himself and surveyed his surroundings frantically.
From the corner of his vision, he saw a club coming down on him. He dodged it with a step to the side, lunged forward at his assailant, and with a brief flourish, tore the club from his hands. With an equally swift swing, Garret slammed the club into the man's head, who feel the the ground, alive but unconscious.
"Impressive. I suppose the monks around here aren't as weak as we assumed." A bear of a man emerged from the shadows along the road, standing at least six feet tall with a large scar running down his massive arms. At his sides stood a dozen men, each armed with a weapon of some sort. They quickly rushed to surround Garret - he was trapped.
"Garret Josiah. Wanted in three counties down in Reaak. There's an awfully large bounty on your head, boy. More alive than dead, though, so I'd appreciate it if you'd come quietly."
"Did Emilio Bavvard send you?"
"So THAT'S the guy you pissed off. Nah, he didn't. But I'll say it again: Come quietly, or this'll get ugly."
"Fuck off."
The man sighed and motioned to the men immediately at his side. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
They charged at him - Both armed with spears - and Garret assumed his fighting stance. His prescience told him that they'd motion to surround him - and there wasn't much he could do against two armed opponents once they did.
He ran, twirled and dodged, moving as fast as he could to dodge the constant onslaught of thrusts and swipes. It continued until, in his growing exhaustion, his prescience overlooked a simple stone in the side of the road. As he slid to the side, Garrets' foot caught it, and he tumbled to the ground. No sooner than he was on the ground, he felt a boot stamp down on his back, knocking the wind out of him.
"Slippery little shit, aren't ya?"
Garret felt a dull blow to the back of his head, and the world around him went dark.
Josslyn Irma walked through her garden. Night had only come an hour or so before, and she was using this time to cool down and relax after a day of listening to prayers and mediation. Her guard's nearly endless sarcastic comments didn't help, either, and she felt generally dejected and bitter about her whole situation, having to sneak away from her guard just to get some alone time in her garden. She kicked a stone into a pool of standing water and kept walking, the torchlight closer to the entrance fading as she walked deeper into the garden.
As she kept walking, she changes a few things around her. The flowers change and grow, tree branches form an archway, and the ground seems to warm with her steps. She reached a small pool of water and sat by it, legs pulled to her chest. She mulled over the events of the day, thinking of questions asked, ideas shared, and events that transpired. While in no way an oracle, she was respected by the monks, and often was consulted on important matters of the monastery, such as disputes and holidays. This wore on her, and today was one of those days.
She sat there, in the slowly dimming torch and moonlight, until she heard a rustling in the brush. It was like the patter of small feet, a weasel or a rabbit, and Josslyn felt like seeing if this furry creature could offer her any respite. She edged towards the sound, and saw a small white blur move in the brush. She stood and followed it, slowly. She at first said a few reassuring, soft words to the creature. ?It's okay, I won't hurt you... I just want to see what you're doing...? After several minutes of trying this, she began cursing and almost screaming at it, attempting to find the illusive vermin that was likely taking home in her garden.
Finally, she did come across it. It was curled in a ball in a clearing between bushes. Josslyn knelt down next to it and poked it's side. The creature was surprisingly cold, and didn't even flinch when she poked it. She held her hand over it and felt no heartbeat, no breath. She slowly moved her hand off of it, a frown now taking place over a once victorious smile.
As she began to stand up, she felt a hand grab at her from behind. It cupped around her mouth, and then a second came from the darkness behind her and grabbed at her slim stomach. She let out a scream, but the hand grabbed her face hard, silencing her cry.
?Girl, we can do this nice, or we can do it hard. Don't scream, don't run, don't fight back, and you'll get away without getting hurt. Run, hide, or scream, and I will hurt you.? A deep, dark voice whispered in her ear. The man pulled a string with the hand on her stomach, revealing the weasel to simply be a puppet tied to a string. Josslyn's eyes watered a little, and she made her hands into fists. Creeping vines began to encircle the man's legs, which was supposed to keep him in place. Instead, it merely alerted him to her attempts to fight back. He twirled around with great speed, faster than a man with hands this big should, and pinned her to the ground, hitting the cold dirt hard.
?Girl, I told you, fight back and we have problems. I can't rough you up too much, you're supposed to be left alive, but that doesn't mean I can't hurt you, I just can't leave scars.? To prove his point, he twisted her arm hard. Josslyn heard a light snap, as though a joint was put out of place, and a great pain. Her eyes began to water uncontrollably, and she shook her head, indicating that she wouldn't fight. The man let go of her arm, and it popped back to her side. It stung and burned, but it wasn't broken, as far as she could tell. She knew, though, that she wasn't giving up.
She opened her hand to the ground, palm down, and vines started to form around her, supposed to make a cocoon. This, sadly was also noticed, and met with a swift punch to the face. Before she could even feel the pain, Josslyn was out cold.
"So, what brings you here, traveler?", asked the tavern keeper while bringing Jordanas the meal he had looked forward to after a long day on the road. "Apart from the merchants who wish to do some trading in Adorján up north, not many people pass through here anymore. And it is obvious that you are not a merchant", he continued while quietly evaluating the man dressed in rags sitting in front of him.
He had no desire to satisfy the tavern keeper's curiosity. He dropped a few coins from his pouch on the table as a payment for the food, raising his head and looking at the fat, bald man in front of him:
"Here. Now leave me be... I'd like to enjoy my meal in peace."
"... Fine, have it your way", he scoffed, annoyed at the unfriendly attitude of this ragged stranger.
Without paying any more attention to him, Jordanas began devouring the delicious stew in front of him.
After a good night's rest at the inn, he was on the road again. He had been traveling towards north already for a week or so, and for what reason, he didn't know. Maybe it was just his constant need to be on the move; He could never stand being at the same place for too long. All he knew was that he had a "hunch" about north. Maybe there he would find a new dish he hadn't tried yet, or something exciting to keep him entertained for a while.
The "spirits" had been quiet for already a month however; this made him feel uneasy, as they always needed something to be done. He meditated every evening, trying to make contact with the spirit world, but still he received no word from them. While he was happy to have a small vacation from the life of a servant, he could not help but wonder what was going on.
Completely lost in his thoughts, Jordanas had entered the Northern Forest just up the road from the tavern before even realizing it.
'I am here already... I should be able to make it through here and reach the town before sunrise.', he thought, happy at the chance of being able to spend at least a part of the night sleeping in a comfy bed at the local tavern. 'It's a shame that I am running low on coins again... Oh well, there are always plenty of foolish noblemen looking for people who can do their bid-
*Crack*
A loud noise from the surrounding forest alarmed him. This was a not a sound made by the creatures of the forest; they were far too skilled in maneuvering through the woods without making a single sound or leaving a trace. These were outsiders, lurking in the woods. Readying himself for a confrontation, he gathered all his concentration, readied his body and kept standing absolutely still, waiting for the unknown person or a creature to make his first move.
A man stepped forward from the shadows of the trees and from the safety of the forest. He looked like a regular bandit; the kind that is after the unsuspecting merchants passing through in hopes of petty wealth.
"Jordanas Roi", the man said. "You are going to be coming with us."
Five more men appeared from the forest around him, and there were most likely more lurking within the shadows.
"Pitiful thieves. May the spirits grant you rest.", muttered Jordanas and in a blink of an eye he leaped at one of the men surrounding him, grabbing his throat and slamming him into the ground knocking him unconscious in the process. Despite instilling terror in his opponents with such a sudden attack, he was still heavily outnumbered, and he knew he would not be able to keep his concentration up for long. The remaining men charged at him with their batons, throwing a flurry of strikes at him and despite of his desperate efforts to dodge the blows, one of the men managed to hit him straight in the head, making him lose his balance and fall over...
Everything turned slowly black as the blows kept coming and coming...
A crowded market street filled with the bustle of regular day life was where Rafiq currently found himself. He could usually set up a stall here, flog a few furs and then call it a day well spent but, as it just so happened, a tailor of this city had put in quite the order for furs and hides. They'd called for him personally too. He couldn't very well disappoint.
He took a moment to go over the directions he had been given. Past a butcher's, across from an armourer, a few doors down from a house with white roses. They were unworthy of praise, so vague were they, but he had a hunter's instinct to help him along the way and eventually reached his destination, a shop with no name, pushed to the back of the market street by the less fiscally challenged shopkeepers. It was not a large shop, budged between two other small buildings so snugly that they may very well have been joined. He approached the front door and knocked.
And then he knocked again.
And then he tried a third time.
Usually there was some sort of indication that someone had heard the door by now. He tested the lock and, finding that the door was unlocked, decided to poke his head inside. "Oi, anyone in?" Following the all too familiar ring of a bell above the door, all was quiet in the shop. No-one was here, especially not a shopkeeper. He'd walked all the way here and the guy couldn't even have the decency to stay in? Honestly, what sort of tradesmen was he expected to cater to these days? They were all so complacent and disrespectful, leaving when he had business with them... He let himself inside, eager to get off the street.
A few racks of clothing were around the shop, obscuring the path from entrance to counter. There was a pedestal in front of a mirror, a counter, a staircase to an area marked Staff Only, and a long bench situated in front of the window.
Rafiq let out a sigh and sat himself down on the bench, willing to stay for as long as it took his prospective employer to return. At the very least he would be handsomely paid for this endeavour. On top of the fee for his work, he'd get money for keeping the place burglar-free, which was surely worth a good few nights' travel about the continent. He laid down on the bench and shut his eyes for a bit.
[hr]
Before too long the door opened again, quickly followed by the sound of shoes on the floor. Without the chance to even sit up, the footsteps streaked towards him and a knife was held to his throat. The scruffy bloke holding it had a mixed expression on the visible half of his face, of both anger and relief. Through the scarf drawn over his mouth he uttered, "Found you."
"Didn't know I was lost."
"Real funny. See if you can laugh along with this, funny man: your job's cancelled, if it was even a real one to begin with, and I've got orders to get you to come along with me 'beaten to a fucking pulp if I so choose,'" he recited the quote from memory, "I have to keep you alive, but I'm only a guy. Accidents happen, if you know what I mean, so how about you make this easy on the both of us and come along quietly?"
Rafiq appeared to mull over the idea for a few seconds, "Okay." The man was taken aback somewhat, but Rafiq put up no resistance. Either one of them could have easily killed the other if they had the intention, but neither did.
They left the unnamed 'shop', Rafiq leading with his wrists tied behind his back.
And then the hit came from a hitherto unknown bandit hiding outside. The hunter went down straight away, offering as little resistance as he had when concious, and hit the ground with a thud.
Judah had spent a great deal of the night looking for his charge, though he knew in the back of his mind that she would be in her garden. He refused to look for her in there on two grounds. The first being it was an invasion of her quiet happy place, and secondly that if she had become angry enough to slip away from him it was probably a good idea to leave her be for a little while. Oh yes she has such a hard life he thought to himself, waited on and doted after by every monk and villager in the town. Feeling bad for this comment almost immediately afterwards, he looked to the sky. The stars were clear and bring over the mountains. His father used to say that the stars were Loae's way of letting the second world's citizens look down on their descendants, and tell them they were alright. He said that if you ever saw something in the stars, it would have been from your parents, or your grandparents, or your great grandparents. He said that all the way to the second worlders your entire bloodline was descended from would send you messages.
Judah dryly laughed and scoffed at this idea almost directly afterwards. In the years since his family's almost collective death, he had stared at the sky every night, and saw nothing. This meant one of two things. Nobody in his family was good enough for the second world, or they had nothing to say to him. There was also the almost impossible possibility that the second world didn't exist, but Judah dismissed the thought almost immediately. If the second world didn't exist then everything was for nothing but itself, and then what was the point of suffering? This led to questioning about Loae's benevolence and power, which, as all Iyuites knew, was boundless and for all things.
Many a night Judah had stared at the sky at the sky and wondered about these things from the bottom of his charge's tower. While he was distracted two monks arrived, their robes slightly dirtied and torn. Judah stopped them, and asked what business they had with the Scion of the tower. Steam rose from their hands as they pulled something from their robes, revealed to be a token of tribute, in the form of some soup. Judah looked at them somewhat suspiciously, their faces cloaked in the shadow the robe brought. Offerings of soup were not uncommon however, so Judah attributed it to paranoia and escorted them to his charge's room. He rapped on the door once or twice before asking if she was in. Seemingly gone, he shrugged to the monks.
"Not much I can do for you gentlemen." He said resignedly.
"Ey, do you 'ave idea where she might be?" The Soupless monk questioned. Judah looked at him curiously again, his accent being reminiscent of the Reaakan battalion, which he believed was a lower class Daelia accent. Now slightly more alert and cautious, he answered slowly.
"I'm afraid I don't know any other places she might be, maybe you should leave and come back tomorrow" he answered, his hand sidling down to his spears fastening. The "monks" noticed this and threw off their robes, revealing a pair of poor hygiened thugs.
Before Judah could react properly a baton came crashing into the side of his head. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he heard the door to her room be beat down, and he saw a large, ugly face come down and grin at him lopsidedly, before fading away into blackness.
"Sweet dreams, witchboy."
After spending a few uneventful hours on a stone slab in the cell a guard walked up to Redd's cell and smirkingly informed him that he'd be getting a few other 'freaks' to keep him company shortly. Redd's been in this predicament for years now. He was unable to find any way to kill Cyrus or escape but now that these scions are entering the board things might change dramatically. Their chances of escaping the prison are still slim and their chances of staying alive against Cyrus and Marius are even smaller. Redd decided that he wouldn't gamble his life away unless he had a very good chance of taking Cyrus out. The Duke of Nasphor would still be a problem, but Redd had gained a lot of experience evading his enemies. He certainly couldn't stay in Reaak anymore though. But he'd be safe in any of the two other realms, whereas Cyrus would be able to pursue him to the end of the Earth. Redd stood up and started inspecting his cell for weaknesses. He couldn't find any, a few loose rocks, but not of interest since he did not possess any digging tools. Redd looked at the tattoo on his hand, he had tried scratching it off repeatedly, cutting his flesh off, the thing just slowly grew back. It was a reminder that his real prison was much harder to get out of.
Redd still lamented his decision to trade his liberty for a ball and chain even if it got him money, power, women. These things were meaningless to Redd. He thought he missed the luxury he lived in back when he was a Van Nifterick, but that wasn't it. He missed having control over his own life, something that had been stripped away from him ever since he made the fatal mistake of antagonizing the Duke. Above all Redd valued his life however. He was pretty sure there was nothing beyond death and even if there was, only Hell awaited him there as he lived for no one but himself.
By the sounds of it other prisoners were being brought in. They were blindfolded and put in different cells but within talking range, rather inconvenient, but workable. "So it begins."
Your characters are now being brought and thrown into the jail. We are inside an expansive castle with ample garrison, fighting all of them head on is not advised. You can begin your escape plans now, you are all within talking distance and were brought in blindfolded, so you do not know where you are.
Garret awoke with the feeling of a vice on his arms and a searing pain in the back of his head. With a pained grunt, he opened his eyes, but saw only the red fabric of a blindfold.
"Oi, I think dis one's comin' to."
"Keep your grip on 'im! I heard he beat up a bunch of lads before he went down."
'Am I... moving? I'm not walking. Ugh, I can't even feel my legs...'
At that thought, he heard a creaking sound, and was tossed to the ground immediately thereafter.
"Oi, Redd, 'ere's the last of the company I promised ya! Now, you freaks play nice, ya hear?"
The voice broke out into a hideous guffaw, and Garret heard another creaking sound behind him, followed by the familiar click of a lock.
'Oh, SHIT.'
His senses returning to him full force, he bolted upright with a small node of panic welling up in his stomach. He tore the blindfold off, and looking around his cell, his fears where realized: he was trapped.
'Don't panic. DON'T PANIC. Take stock and... wait a minute. Freaks? Plural?'
Taking a closer look at his cell block, he saw that he was, in fact, not alone. Five others, all in their own cells, and sitting directly across from his own cell was a man roughly Garret's age, with black hair tied back in a ponytail.
Garret's mouth turned to a smirk. 'Well, this just got interesting.' He turned to the man. "So, what are you in for?"
Redd decided to adopt a slightly humorous stance, after all, making friends with his fellow inmates was the best course.
"Theft, murder and loitering."
"No need to be glib, pal. I'm willing to bet that you're in here for a bullshit reason, same as me." Redd quickly drops the comedic undertones, they don't seem to be appreciated.
"So let me rephrase the question - who'd you piss off?"
"Nobody, I was minding my own business, did some... more or less petty theft, but that was some minor noble. The guys who kidnapped us look like much bigger fry if you ask me." Big fry indeed, Redd says to himself.
"Any idea as to the identity of our esteemed hosts?"
"I was blindfolded when they brought me in here, but I did hear the sound of clashing swords and shields when we arrived. I'm guessing we're in some place that has an active garrison. That would indicate either a high ranking officer of the army or a noble, but no way to be sure."
Garret lets off a laugh at this. "I think I might have a way to find that out, but before that... our guard referred to us as freaks, so I'm going to assume you're a scion too. What's your deal?"
"I'm inhumanely fast to put it simply, it works pretty well with being a thief, present circumstances excluded." Redd lets out a short laugh before readjusting himself.
"Interesting... and I did promise I'd show you mine." Garret rips off a piece of fabric from his robe and bites down on one of his fingers, smearing the resulting blood on it. He holds it to his forehead and takes a deep breath. Redd observes intently. Garret's eyes glow with a gentle blue light, then his demeanor shifts - his gaze half-lidded and unfocused, like he's listening to a particularly boring lecture.
"We're on the deepest level of this prison block. Directly above us are the... 'interrogation' chambers. Above that are the guards' quarters, and the ground floor houses their armory." He doesn't break his trance, he's still looking. "They're keeping a very tight patrol schedule. Just about every path in and out of this place is kept under constant guard." Redd is silently impressed by these feats of clairvoyance, he would certainly like to know more about the limits of such an ability, it could turn out to be a huge problem.
"I sense... 4, no... 5 thousand men. All armed. As to the identity of our hosts..." Redd had to stop himself from starting at that. This isn't going to be a pleasant thing to discover... Garret casts his second sight towards this subject, but seems to recoil as he does so.
"SON OF A FUCKING... We need to escape as soon as physically possible. I don't know who has us locked up, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."
Garret certainly wasn't lying... "Impressive power you have there, and I agree, if someone was specifically looking for us, we're in trouble." Redd articulated.
"Oi, the rest of ya! Your skins are on the line too! The name's Garret, by the way."
Redd scratched his head in disbelief. "Why yes, it seems I've forgotten my manners. You can call me Redd."
"I'd shake your hand, but well... you know." He sticks his hand out the bars of his cell and waves it around a bit. The guard comes up to their cells rather irritated:
"Shut up! The lot of ya' two! No more chit chatting". After yelling sufficiently loud enough he returns to his patrol rambling curses.
"Not the nicest fellow I'd say." Redd says that with an almost palpable disgust on his face.
"See that? On his belt? A ring of keys."
Redd leaned forward and whispered. "Yeah, I bet I could snatch them if I had the opportunity. I've been following his behavior, he compulsively checks his belt every now and then, if we get them we won't have much time before he realizes it."
Garret closes his eyes and seems to drift off. "About... one minute. Not much at all. We'd make way too much noise if we took them by force, too... and even then, there's a patrol once every 5 minutes. I'm serious, you lazy sods! Sound off! Names and powers!"
Did some cooperative writing with Arcanist here. It's my work as much as it's his.
So it's about time other scions woke up or arrived.
Before the last of the imprisoned had been herded into their respective cells, Rafiq had made himself at home. He had been 'lucky' enough to have been brought in near the beginning, so he didn't really need to make a huge struggle to remove his blindfold, instead calmly untying it. In his eyes there was no need to rush just yet.
He managed to catch a glimpse of the final prisoner being brought in, by Tweedledee and Tweedledum no less, and leaned as far up to his door as he could. The prisoner was off down the far end of the cell block from him.
As the two brutes disappeared, leaving only the guards on patrol up and down the block, the new prisoner seemed to start getting along smashingly with another. Although Rafiq couldn't really see either of them he could hear what was being discussed, short of some whispered conspiracy.
"Oi, the rest of ya! Your skins are on the line too!"
Sounds like someone was getting impatient. To be honest Rafiq wasn't exactly looking forward to those 'interrogation chambers' either, nor a meeting with whomever was hosting this impromptu get-together. It was about time to get out of here, and those two already sounded like they were formulating a plan of escape.
"I'm serious, you lazy sods! Sound off! Names and powers!"
"Rafiq Alves. I push things." He couldn't get much further out of his cell door without falling through it.
The world was a deep shade of red and Judah's head was feeling several sizes too big. He was vaguely aware of some people talking, and then somebody shouting. He could feel that his face had been dirtied and his robe torn by the feeling of the wind rushing over his skin. Where he was there was quite a strong draught, which helped Judah figure out he was in some kind of poorly built building, or a well built one not built for comfort. This further removed Judah's hope that this was a really stupid practical joke by the monks. They never did have a good sense of humour, in that it was twisted and warped beyond all non-solitary beings idea of humour.
Groggily, he raised a hand to lift the blindfold and saw blinding, painful light strike his eyes. Angrily he tore off his blindfold, which burst into flames and incinerated next to him. Light was not going to stop him from seeing where the hell he was. So he stared directly into it, eventually becoming accustomed. To an observer this would seem odd, but luckily, Judah saw, the person opposite him was looking down the row.
From the bars he was able to infer this was some kind of prison. He stumbled to his feet while moving to the bars, tripping on nothing a few times on the way. Clinging to the bars for dear life he tried to make out what the people were saying, failing miserably. After a few seconds of this, sobriety hit like a stone to the head when one of the various people talking shouted as loud as possible. Judah heard this man's voice loud and clear, cursing under his breath after a bit of a pained groan. "Oi, the rest of ya! Your skins are on the line too!"
Though Judah wanted to say something very inflammatory, he collected himself and tried to massage his temples until the pain went away. However, no sooner than he had fell on his arse while leaning against the gate did the same inconsiderate voice yell. "I'm serious, you lazy sods! Sound off! Names and powers!"
Fuck you I'm a lazy sod, I only just woke up from being smashed in the face.
"Yes, shout, I'm sure that wont annoy the guards or anybody suffering symptoms of being smashed in the head hard enough to black out..." Judah spat caustically at Garret.
"But since you ask so nicely, my name is Judah Eldad, and I can set fire to things I touch. Truly the most useful power among us I'm sure."
Josslyn's vision was blurred, as though someone had smeared grease across her face. She heard voices, mostly unfamiliar, but there was one that had a ring of familiarity to it. Her senses were still stunned, however, and she still couldn't quite make out a word he was saying. One thing she could understand at the moment, though, was that she was very, very angry at the moment. She wanted nothing more than to break the rope around her wrists, beat the first thing she saw to death, and then run back home. She knew, though, that this was something that a man three times her size couldn't do.
She was lead into a room, most likely with the others, and finally was thrown into a cell. She did not impact the ground hard, but it startled her. The only color she could see was a deep red with a few speckles of light and color coming through. It took her a few moments to realize that she had cloth tied around her head. When she removed it, she shut her eyes immediately, the bright light blinding her. When she opened them, she saw that she was behind bars in a gray, stone cell. She sat on the floor, bringing her legs up to her chest. She thought about the events that happened before she arrived here, but then realized that she couldn't remember much. She was in her garden, chased a creature, was grabbed, and then woke up, the sound of a wagon on the road being all she could hear.
Josslyn was jolted out of any daze she was in as someone in another cell screamed that ?Their skins were on the line,? and she bolted upright. She was going to yell, but heard more talking and waited for it to end before she would speak. Eventually, the man yelled again, this time asking for everyone's name and power. She was shocked that this man already knew that they were Scions. The monks had told her that there would be others like her, but she didn't expect to meet any, let alone meet several in one room. She stayed quiet, though, and waited for others to answer, then spoke up herself as a silence dulled on the cells. She said, in an annoyed and clipped voice, ?I am Josslyn Irma, and my power is to change the environment around me.? She lowered her head into her knees and waited for anyone else to speak, wanting to do anything but talk at the moment.
"Yes, shout, I'm sure that wont annoy the guards or anybody suffering symptoms of being smashed in the head hard enough to black out... But since you ask so nicely, my name is Judah Eldad, and I can set fire to things I touch. Truly the most useful power among us I'm sure."
Garret balked at this response. He'd had the crap kicked out of him, same as him, and you didn't hear him whining.
"Well, pardon me, princess! I didn't know I'd woken you up! Did you chip a nail, too? You should really get that looked at."
Another man, this one further down the cell block, piped up.
"Rafiq Alves. I push things."
"Care to elaborate, mister Alves?"
Garret then heard yet another voice speak up, this one belonging to a young girl in the cell adjacent to Redd's.
"I am Josslyn Irma, and my power is to change the environment around me."
Garret cracked another smile at that. 'Excellent. If we play this carefully, we might just get out of here with our hides intact.'
"That might come in handy in the not-so-distant future, provided that means what I think it means. My name is Garret Josiah, and I'm a seer: past, present, and future."
Amata walked along the top of a stone wall, holding her arms out eith side and doing her very best to balance on it. Every so often she would slip slightly and nearly fall off only to balance herself out again and stand straight. It was rather amusing to her, this little game she was playing. The best way to keep herself occupied while she waited for something to happen; she didn't want to end up getting bored and fall asleep when danger was about. She'd miss out on helping people! That'd be terrible.
Over time, however, the game slowly became boring. It was only for so long trying to keep your balance would amuse anyone, it was quite a repetitive actvity after all. Eventually Amata let out a bored sigh and let herself fall to one side and land on her back. "Ow!" She went. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to let herself fall off onto a path. She made a note of not to make the same mistake again.
Staring up at the sky she noticed that it was getting rather late. Yet again she had gone a day without eating, her stomach growling at her for such crimes. She put her hand over it and sighed "I'm sorry." She apologized. "I'm sure we'll find something to eat at some point. Maybe a grateful person we save will feed us! That'd be great..." With that she put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, preparing herself for sleep. She was sure that tomorrow she'd have something to do, find something to eat, but for now she'd have to wait. It'd pay off eventually!
[hr]
The night had been calm but Amata still wasn't able to sleep. She was too hungry, her mind was filled with thoughts of glorious food that were not allowing her the sleep she wanted. This wouldn't do. Not at all. Plus she was getting bored. She moved her hands over the hard ground which she had decided to make her bed. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to just try and sleep her. It was neither comfy or safe. She'd been through worse though, her time high in the mountains was a testament to that. She'd live through whatever came her way.
And, as if by magic, at that moment something did decide to come her way. Amata could hear the light footsteps of someone sneaking along the path. That was kind of them; doing their best not to wake her up. Too bad she was already awake. Alas she thought it'd be nicer to pretend to be asleep, that way the person could feel gratification from their attempted kind deed!
The young girl listened carefully to the person as they came closer, the footsteps getting louder and louder only to stop right next to her head. The person bent down and examined Amata, holding their hand over her mouth to feel her breathing. "Good, still alive..." Amata heard them mutter. How nice of them to think of her. The person picked Amata up and slung her over their shoulders, causing the girl to wonder about their intentions as they carried her off.
It was at this point she decided to stop playing dead, jumping off the person and landing on her feet. "Hi." She said to the dumbfounded man who could have sworn the person he was holding was asleep. "I'm fine look, you can go away no-" The man raised his fists. "Oh." Amata shook her head and smiled at the man. "I don't have anything of value, there's no point in fighting me. You should reconsider your line of work, though, this kind of thing isn't helping anyone!" The man continued to stare at her. "... Fine..." She muttered as she raised her own fists. The man smiled at her, probably thinking that fighting this girl would be easy for him. Well Amata was gonna prove him wrong! She was going to beat him up and make him see the error of his-
The young girl felt a great pain at the back of her head as things began to go dark. She lost her balance and fell to the floor to look up at another man who was behind her, apparently holding a stick which he had used to hit her on the back of the head. Oh. Well at least now she could get some sleep...
[hr]
Amata sat up straight as soon as she came to, looking around at where she found herself. A jail? Now... That wasn't right was it? Who thought of putting a Knight of the People like her inside of a jail? Probably some bad guys. Silly them. She stood up quickly only to stumble about and end up crashing against the bars, deciding that getting up so fast after being knocked unconcious as she was might not have been a good idea.
The first thing she noticed was other people who, apparently, seemed to be talking. Judging by the fact that she was there Amata assumed that these other people weren't bad, even though they were in a jail. Though they may not have noticed her presence before Amata decided that this was a good time to introduce herself. "Hello!" She said rather loudly. "I'm Amata. Nice to meet you all." They seemed to be talking about powers... Maybe they were like her. Scions. Amata went silent, not really wanting to talk about what she could do. It's not like it upset her or anything; it's just that she didn't like what people thought of it. So she left her introduction at that.
Garret craned his neck as far out the bars to his cell door as he was able and identified the speaker as a very young girl, no older than 12. 'Another child. What on earth could these people want with us? It's not like we're conspiring against them. Well, not before now, at least...'
"It's nice to meet you, Amata. Would you care to tell us what you can do? I'll tell you mine, if you hadn't heard before."
Garret slumped back into his cell as he saw Amata retreat back into hers. 'Guess the kid doesn't feel like talking. Not that I can blame her...'
Garret turns to Redd, clearing his voice to get his attention. "I don't get it. What reason would they have to round us up? Hell, two of us can barely tie our own shoes. Whatever their motivation, I can say with near certainty that I wouldn't have been their enemy before today. If we're a threat, why go through the effort of taking us alive and imprisoning us? And if we're not, why bother with us at all? Something here doesn't add up, and I don't like it one bit."
Redd turned back, keeping up his pretense of boredom and disinterest. "What makes you think we were a threat or an enemy to them prior to being kidnapped? People have harmed other people for no justifiable reason since the dawn of time. That's just how humanity is." Redd certainly didn't put much stock in the innate goodness of the universe.
Garret furrowed his brow at this remark. 'He's dodging the question. I'm starting to get sick of this.'
"They hired bounty hunters, well over a dozen in my case, to track us down and then went through the effort of imprisoning us. If we were such a threat to warrant that expense, why not kill us? Somebody wants us caged. Badly. I've got a really bad feeling about this whole affair, and my gut's never wrong."
Redd chuckled at this remark and gestured towards Garret. "Look at yourself. You're hardly an ordinary human being, and neither am I. That's reason enough for most people."
"I told nobody my status as a Scion, bar the head of my monastery, and he never left the place. How'd they find me? And in my experience, people tend to handle 'problems' like us by eliminating them." Garret gestured to the dank cell around him. "Why cage us, when they could have just killed us and been done with it?"
Redd greatly enjoyed this exchange. A sort of cat and mouse play, Redd know he was being suspected, and he didn't care, this was certainly an interesting change from the rather antisocial activities Redd had to complete. A breath of fresh air; A breath of freedom; it was a very strange feeling to have in the middle of a jail. Considering how things we're going, an attempt to escape was imminent. Redd wasn't sure of their chances, but he was willing to try now, something about this rag tag group, or perhaps the fact that they're all scions, made Redd want to assist them instead of giving them a shiv in the back. Redd resolved to offer a thinly veiled piece of information.
"Where are you from?"
"Don't change the subject."
"Answer the question, it's relevant."
"A county on the Iyuo border."
"Well, judging by the architecture, and how there are no prisons of this kind in Iyou, we're in Reeak. Let me tell you a thing or two about Reeak."
Garret slams his fist into the bars to his cell door, his face drawing back into a frustrated sneer. "Don't lecture me. I know damn well how corrupt his place can be."
"Then you know that every noble is ready to cut the throat of his competitor in a moment's notice if they know it will advance their station. They will take any advantage. People like us are valuable in these shadowy wars."
"Hell of a way to hire us. They could have asked nicely."
"Who said they wanted to hire us? Perhaps they want to dissect us." Redd smiled mischievously.
"Again, they could have asked nicely. I'd still have told them to fuck off, but it's the principle of the thing."
"Oh yes, they're very big on principles." Redd chuckled a bit at Garret's joke.
Garret cocked an eyebrow at that remark. 'He definitely knows more than he lets on.'
"They?"
'Really?' Redd thought to himself. 'We've been using the word "they" since the beginning of the conversation, Garret really wants to pin me to a proverbial wall here. I'll move at my own pace, not his.'
Redd decided to respond in a rather snarky manner. "The lizard people! No, I'm referring to whoever is keeping us captive." said Redd still in a slightly amused state. "If they're the kind that kidnaps people, and if they're Reaak nobles or military, I'm sure that principles are not their strong point. I'm not sure who else could have a prison at their disposal, or so many people training... Perhaps one of the bandit clans? I've heard rumors they've been rather active, but they're usually limited to maim, murder and pillage, this is a bit too subtle for them." The bandits were indeed relevant to this, not simply a wild tangent.
"Hm." Garret leans in a bit and lowers his voice. "I know you know more than you let on. Now, I'm willing to overlook that for the moment, considering our present circumstances, but when we get out of here, I expect an explanation."
He gestures towards the girls. "If not for my sake, then for theirs."
"I wouldn't dream of withholding information from such sweet hearts."
Garret frowned at this coy response. 'Dammit, he's still not talking. Well, I have other ways to find out, but that can wait. For now, we should focus on getting out of here.'
"As long as we understand each other, Redd."
Redd nodded grudgingly, then thought to himself. 'There's just no pleasing some people.'
Again, a collaborative post with the Arcanist.
Also, OniaPL has a two day time limit to get his/her post in or be replaced.
"I am Josslyn Irma, and my power is to change the environment around me."
Josslyn! what was she doing here? Well that answer was obvious, she had been captured. Hoping that she could hide from their captors as well as she could hide from him was obviously fruitless and foolish of him. Though feeling a sudden injection of fear and worry for Josslyn, he did not want to betray this to her. He picked his words carefully to not be viciously sarcastic, but just enough to mask his concern for her safety. Craning his head through his bars to look at her he adopted a look of annoyance.
"Oh, I see you did not evade capture like you evaded my protective eye, mistress Josslyn" He felt as though he may have put too much venom into mistress but continued. "Surely running away from your personal guard was the most brilliant idea you could have had."
Josslyn clinched her fist, finally recognizing the voice that seemed familiar. She waited for him the finish, her teeth gritting all the while. She stood from her sitting position and moved to the bars, her long dress getting caught around her feet. She grabbed the bars and glared at Judah. Despite her anger, she could only think of questions to ask.
"Oh, you... come to berate me more? And, if you're such a wonderful guard, then how did you get caught? Did you use your mighty spear to gut them, like you always say you would do? And what's this about being able to light things on fire? Why didn't the monks put you in one of those thrones, then?" She was not attempting to hide her contempt, letting the bitterness of her words echo through the cells.
"To answer your questions in order, mistress, berating seems to be the only way to get you to respond, the bastards clubbed me before I could get to my spear. I was not allowed a life of pampering because I only discovered my abilities recently, and hid them to look after you, rather than be forced into uselessness." Judah calmly spat back at Josslyn.
Becoming a target for Josslyn's aggression was not something he had done accidentally, as it allowed for her to have a healthy outlet for it rather than killing herself by trying to keep it down. Judah was glad to see she had not been harmed enough to not be able to reply with appropriate vitriol to his spite.
Josslyn pressed herself against the bars of her cell, ready to scream. She wanted to hit Judah for his words, calling her useless. He was the one that couldn't protect her, after all. If he had been doing his job, She thought, then I wouldn't be here. He wouldn't, either, so he's just some idiot who can't think five minutes into the future in order to see why protecting me is worth it and...She breathed deeply. One, two, three... she continued counting to ten, then continued to speak, her voice no less bitter and resentful.
"Judah, I'm not some little kid that you have to lecture to in order to get to listen. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't even have been out in the first place. It's all your fault that I'm here, so just shut up and get me out of here."
Judah smiled, then tried his best to try and make it look like a smirk. He was slightly amused at the fact that Josslyn seemed to think that he had the ability to get her out of a keep that, by the sound of the seer, was filled with thousands of thugs, likely armed to the teeth. This was even more ridiculous because it meant that, for that many bandits to be in a single place, they'd have to be somewhere deep in bandit country. Perhaps they were even...Judah's blood ran cold. That must be it, they must be there. Right in the heart of the Bandit territories, where the biggest collection of thugs, murderers, rapists and thieves liked to call home.
"Not to alarm anybody, but I think we might be in Vendrad." Judah said in a breathy tone, showing noticeable fear.
Onia has been replaced, Zombie Fanatic will be writing up a capture and waking in the keep post. Also, being in the heart of Vendrad is something you all have cause to fear. This was a collab with Clogged.
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