A Storm to Remember (Closed)

[Shadowfang]

The tavern was getting even more crowded, with people still piling in with every passing second. Shadowfang even saw another Konti walk in, caked in mud for some reason, and begin muttering to herself in a gravely tone. Her voice was much unlike the honeyed voice of the Konti sitting at the table. Suddenly, a booming voice assaulted his ears. He winced in pain. The voice had come from another Myrian-looking brute trailing two half-naked women behind him. The first Myrian turned to him and began yelling back. Too loud. Entirely too loud.

Shadowfang listened in on their conversation for a moment. He picked up a couple of names but did not bother matching them with faces. He did hear one word that caught his interest. Crimson. The way the man said it, it sounded like some sort of organization. Shadowfang made a mental note to attempt to investigate the word's meaning later.

Someone had snuck up on him and he only moticed her when she was almost next to him. He stared at her. She was watching him with wide, innocent eyes. As soon as he had aknawledged her, she bombarded him with questions. Why? Why would anyone be stupid enough to approach him., much less try to strike up a conversation. Shadowfang tried to ignore her, but the girl was being persistant. How annoying. He simply shook his head in answer to her first question and refused to answer the second, looking away. Hopefully she'd leave him alone if he made it obvious that he would not talk. Not likely.

[Kit]

Kit's senses were assaulted the moment he entered the tavern. How was he supposed to find his human in this din? He couldn't even hear himself think. Wincing, he tried sniffing the air, to see if he could catch his human's scent. After a moment, he detected a faint trace. Following his nose, he noticed it was taking him past some rather large and scary stompers. Sniffing again, he realized he recognized one of them as the bouncy stomper. Cringing, he did his best to sneak past him (where "sneak" translates to "run"). Slipping behind the other big stomper, he scrambled up the stairs, following his nose to his human's room.

He was running so quickly that he actually ran into Kreig's door with a BANG. After shaking his head, he rattled the doorknob until it opened. There was his human, fast asleep and oblivious to the impending doom fast approaching. Shaking Kreig violently, Kit yelled, "Wake up! We have to go! Run! Hide! Take shelter! Underground, underground!" When this produced no obvious response, he dragged the brawler out of bed, intending to drag him all the way to safety if need be, even if the human suffered a few bruises along the way. It was better than suffering whatever was coming. Kit wasn't sure what exactly was coming; all he knew was that it was bad.

By the time he'd gotten Kreig downstairs, the human was still groggy, but almost seemed awake enough to be paying attention. Kit shouted into his ear, hoping that an increase in volume would get through to him somehow. "Bad things are coming! Very very bad! Must go underground, now!" He didn't care whether others heard his warning. All he needed was to get his human to safety. If his warning helped others too, well, good for them.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia’s world was taking a slightly strange turn after spending so long in secluded isolation, greeted by so many people who had a connection to her in some form or another. In many ways it was enjoyable to know that she possessed such material to rebuild herself with, however in other ways it spoke for how terrible she could be. Mok was a prime example of her penchant for using people for personal advancement, not caring for how they turned out after her usage. In her eye she had taken from him expertise and development she had no possessed the requisite knowledge for, then had left for her own ends without so much as a thank you in many ways. It was nice to see him, however when she measured herself against him and his new lady friend she could hardly find a comparison. It was then that the one known as Cade descended upon their group and her desire to seek knowledge of the Konti before her evaporated, drastically.

Bastard! Whores is all he bloody well knows I bet she seethed inside silently.

“Call me whore again, barbarian, and I might have to forgo rank and chop something off so as you can’t even use whores” she told him mildly, wondering if he would actually notice the anger building beneath the surface.

Still, they had little time for confrontation as Mok began to lead them towards the stairs, and from there onto the balcony. As the cold, dank air hit her full in the face she could only find within herself a sense of resignation to darkness, that her very soul had been warped beyond all recognition and would never return to what it had once been. It was a sad reasoning, one which was depressive if dwelt upon, and so she drank the rest of her cup of silt laden ale and refilled it expertly. Only then did she place both upon the rim of the wooden fence around their temporary domain and breathe deeply, her eyes closed as she sought for balance, for control. She had a tale to tell and it would not be a happy one in the least. She cared not if the others were standing, sitting or passed out already as she looked upon the vestiges of grubbiness that made up her viewpoint of Sunberth.

“No greater pile of vice, debauchery and destruction will you ever see, populated as it is with the very scum of humanity – and other species besides” she almost whispered, but still sure the wind would carry her voice to their ears, along with the thick layer of emotion contained within her tones.

“Mura,” she continued, her voice turning to bitterness now, “Mura was a place of wonder and beauty. I had hoped it could heal me, take away the mark of my past, but I was wrong. Its beauty was not enough to provide me with a piece of it to all my own. Bastard Konti wouldn’t even see me| she breathed, her back still to tem as her robes and cloak flittered in the breeze, her hood forced back by one of its tendrils to reveal her matted hair.

“I had so many plans, so many attempts. I searched high and low for a trace to pick up, using this thing to guide my paths,” she pulled her father’s book from inside her robes and tossed it behind her in case they held some interest in it.

“Success was far from what I would call my travels to Mura, Mok. I failed in everything I set out to do, returning now beaten and alone. My path is lost to me, hidden within a veil of bleakness that I cannot penetrate. I used to have purpose, but now am adrift” she ended, resting her hands upon the balcony and sighing deeply.

“So you ask me how it went…awfully” she finished, finally turning and leaning her back upon the balcony and not looking them in the eye as she could not bring herself to, her self-disgust too palpable within her form.

She didn’t much care how they would react to her words, there was little enough of her left to do so.

[Lessira]

During her time alone with Zandelia, Lessira did little but blush and stair absently at the table. Certainly, Mok had become someone... Imporant to the girl, but what this woman suggested... Lessira opened her mouth to reply to the strange woman's teasing words, but what thoughts she had were caught in her throat as Zandelia mentioned another so similar to herself. Her eyes widened and almost without thinking the girl's fingers found the mark at the neck of her shirt, "Who do mea--" but her words were interrupted by the booming words of another. Without her notice Mok had returned to the table, and Lessira's eyes slid over him and a smile touched her lips for just a moment before the man had turned to the one who had called out such vulgarities. Blinking, Lessira felt a bit overwhelmed as Zandelia made a quick retort to the barbarian's words, and suddenly she was following the lead of others as they made their trek upwards to the room above. Shaking her head, Lessira rand a hand through her hair, brushing back a stray lock behind one ear as she tried to stay close to Mok's side. Following the lead of Zandelia, Lessira made her way outside onto the balcony, leaning out over the rail and closing her eyes as a light breeze tickled her skin. As the woman spoke, the Konti absently touched the mark upon her chest, running a finger along the edge of the crescent moon pattern and humming softly under her breath, but then there was spoken a word that set the girl's mind singing. Mura... Lessira's sharp intake of breath and sudden turn of the head may have seemed odd, but that single word had sent a chorus of notes spinning within her mind in a harmonic mix of old and new feelings. Faint images began to arise within the girl's inner self, brief glimpses into the life of someone whom was at once a stranger and intimately close to her... Perhaps it would come as a surprise to those who were listening as well, but Lessira seemed to have focused on only a single aspect of Zandelia's entire story, "Please, what is Mura?" OOCSorry this post was kind of a dud. Just trying to get caught up to everyone else. Promise the next ones will be much better quality

[Andalusia]

Location: Northern Wilds Andalusia wrapped up what was left of the cooked rabbit she was having. Throwing whatever bones that were left loose to her dog, Dante, she stood up and began organizing the campfire. The dimness and myriad of sweet scents that the wilderness had enveloped around her left her unaware of the events transpiring not too far away. "I'd say we did well today, Dan," she murmured, giving the Luvanor a satisfactory pet around the ears as she looked at the set of rabbits tied along a makeshift stand made of fallen tree branches. Howlite, her Leopardbred, neighed with approval. Andalusia grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows and crept inside her tent to store it, when Howlite began to neigh restlessly. Dante sat up from his place beside the unlit bonfire, the smoke still spewing out of it in little swirled strings. "Howl?" Andalusia peeked out her head from her tent with a confused look. The horse continued to grumble and stomp frantically. Dante stood up and began to growl. "What? What's wrong?" Andalusia retreated back into her tent and began to gather her things together. With haste, she organized her backpack and secured it around her shoulders. She tied her beige, hooded cape around her shoulders, and then put on her quiver. Suddenly, the combination of neighing and barking had stopped. She stormed out of her tent with an arrow prepared to shoot, only to find two her two bewildered companions staring at her with urgency. "Seriously," she sighed and put the arrow back into the quiver as she slunk to the ground with a relieved sigh. Dante gingerly padded his way to her and began to nudge her repeatedly. "City?" she reluctantly inched her head to look at Sunberth. It stood not so far away from where she was, and it was actually a pleasant sight from this angle and distance. Her camp stood right at the edge of the woods; not too deep into the wilderness, and not too close to civilization. And she could see both. It was perfect. Howlite tugged at the loose knot that roped him around a large tree bark and set himself free. He pulled at the tent until it collapsed. "You want to go into town..." she trailed off, sitting casually by the bonfire, which was now cool and bereft of smoke, as she toyed with Dante's ears. The dog barked his approval and stood up. "Alright," she furrowed her brows in confusion, and began to pack up the tent and their food into saddlebags. "Howl," she called for the horse. Howlite walked up to her holding the rope that had him tied up just a few minutes ago. "You two better know what you're doing, because I have no idea what I'm doing!" she chuckled, securing the saddlebags around Howlite and pulling at the end of the rope that wasn't around his neck. Dante stared at what was left of their camp solemnly. Somehow, it seemed sad to leave it, but they simply had to. He trotted alongside Andalusia as she and Howlite rode down the rolling green hills that separated Sunberth from the place they called home. There was something incredibly off about the sky; its usual bright blue had been reduced to a sickly gray, and even darker so in the distance. "Maybe there's a storm coming, is that why you want us to go into town?" she turned to the two animals, yet none of them acknowledged her words. They've gone through storms before just fine, what made this one any different? Andalusia shrugged and slipped on the hood of her cape, just enough cover her head. Whatever was coming wasn't going to be good at all.

[Kreig Messer]

“What….huh?” Wondered Kreig, still half asleep as Mushakis got him moving and kept shouting what felt like nonsense in his current as he dragged him out of the tavern as the goers gave odd looks to the pair. It was by this time, still being dragged by the kelvic skunk, had become wide awake and glad he slept in his clothing well after yesterday’s end. Moments after he listened to the loud ringing caused by Mushakis, who kept repeating something bad is going to happen or something akin to a big disaster. As he knew Kelvics were more like animals who can change to the form of man, he knew their animal instincts were more acute then their human senses, and animals senses were quite good in forecasting terrible danger “Alright Mushakis, calm yourself, I’ll follow” He said in a sleepy voice, glad to at least have his clothes, gauntlets and mizas with him and followed the naked teen-age looking kelvic

[Andalusia]

"Everybody seems to be gravitating towards the tavern," Andalusia murmured to nobody in particular, as wave after wave, people began to crowd around the building. They were almost into the town, when Andalusia wondered how she was to keep Howlite at bay long enough to figure out what was going on. Whenever she would come into town to sell, it was easy to just lug her around, and when she'd come to visit the tavern, Howlite would stay at the camp to keep watch. "Howl," she turned to her horse, "I'm sure Hannah will take good care of you, do you mind?" The Leopardbred neighed and stomped her foot. "You trust her, don't you?" she continued to murmur soothing words to her as they made their way to Killroy's Kennel, bumping into a few people here and there, and even finding someone clad in nothing past by frantically. Andalusia nervously looked in the other direction, the blood draining from her face at the sudden sight. "Hannah," Andalusia called out. She and Hannah were decent acquaintances, and she could even call the girl her friend. She was just a little bit younger than her, and she trusted her enough to leave Howlite with her. She would come around occasionally to purchase things for Howlite, or even to keep him there when need be, and they had eventually formed a bond from mutual likes. Hannah appeared clad in her usual, although they were quite sodden from sweat. "Hello, Andal," she beamed, a natural sense of charisma oozing through her voice as she mate her way to Howlite. The horse did not object. "I'll need her in the stables for a while, there seems to be something going on at the tavern," Andalusia turned to the tavern, and the people that crowded around it. Hannah frowned as she pulled Howlite into the stables, "I'm not going to get involved in whatever it is, and you shouldn't either, Andal." Andalusia favored that nickname more than anything else, because it reminded her of her father, and her grandfather's friend. They usually called her An, as well, but Andal felt more endearing for some reason. "It may be something else," she turned to Dante, who had been terribly quiet since they'd left the wilds, "I think it's something I need to see." Hannah kept Howlite safe inside and came back out with a worried look on her face. Ever since her taking over the place, she's been a lot more expressive. Andalusia took it as a good thing, and in the little conversations that they have, she avoids any topic involving Killroy, or the other unpleasant inhabitants of Sunberth. "Whatever it is, stay safe, I don't know what I'd do if you were gone, there's barely enough people to trust around here, or at all!" she giggled nervously, placing her arms around Andalusia's shoulders. The affection of a friend was something she was never used to, however, and Andalusia could only give her a small smile as a response. It came off looking more like an uncomfortable grimace. Hannah giggled once more and made her way back into the stables without another word. "No goodbyes," Andalusia thought, "I'll have to come back, or else." The thought made her chuckle. The tavern smelled of smoke and alcohol. People here and there were cackling, shouting, and speaking boisterously, unbeknownst of whatever could be brewing outside. It took a while for Andalusia to enter the place, since a line had eventually formed somewhere near the entrance, but now that she was in, she couldn't even walk straight from the amount of people wandering about. Dante whimpered, although it was inaudible from the noise in the room, as he side stepped the careless stomps and kept his nose right behind Andalusia's walking feet. By the time she'd effectively stumbled onto a stool by the bar, Dante was completely exhausted from maneuvering around the crowd, piling himself in front of her feet, his back against the bar table and his legs curled around the wooden stool. "What's happening?" she questioned out loud to no one in particular. She pulled her hood down, her raven-black hair spilled around her shoulders in swirling waves and framed her face, brightening her sharp, striking green eyes even more so.

[Mok]

Lounging on the fat chair facing the sky, Mok peered at the bright blue sky. Painted ribbons of white clouds spanned the horizon. A storm was building up. It was rolling in from the north and the east. Strange. The myrian wasn't that accustomed to the weather patterns of Sunberth yet, but this was strange. It didn't matter. A light sprinkle would damper only his cloak, but not his spirit.

Opening the bottle of dark whiskey, Mok focused on Zandelia who followed immediately behind him and took her place at the balcony. Hooking his finger around the handle the myrian propped it on his shoulder and took a long draught from the alcohol. Chugging it like a champ, the myrian slowly put down the bottle and licked his lips. Delicious. The myrian was barely phased by it.

Intently listening to Zandelia's words Mok took each and every sentence into consideration. The myrian was not quick to judge when it came to his own family. His team mate looked like an old veteran and it showed through the haggled reflection of her face and eyes. She spoke of the debaucheries city known as Sunberth under her breath before beginning. This confused Mok. He was hearing her clearly, but he couldn't believe it. He loved this place. Here was his family.

Next she spoke of Mura. Her face bleeding of turgid bitterness. She had not let go of her dreams yet. The konti did not accept her, they rejected her. She sought the light, but found only darkness. In a way she was just like Mok. The only difference was that the myrian embraced it. The darkness in his heart fueled his actions. It allowed him not only to survive, but to prosper. Zandelia needed to use the darkness in her heart to inflict pain on her enemies, not on herself. This attitude would eat her up.

Mok would say nothing yet. He couldn't just come out and tell her off. The myrian had no right to tell his Crimson sister what was right and wrong. She had her own free will. The half-blood’s minds trailed off as Zandelia finished her story.

Zandelia had only found disappear and failure in Mura. Her mind and soul where now adrift. Mok needed to put an end to that. After waiting in awkward silence for a few moments, the myrian listened as Lessira broke the tension with a small assuming question: What is Mura?

Without turning towards the Konti sitting next to him, Mok mumbled, "It is the land of the Konti..."

Waiting until the conversation halted again, the myrian capitalized and finally stood up and said his part, "Zandelia...You are no longer adrift. You have found your way home! This is your family, Zandelia; we the Crimson are your brothers and sisters. We may not be able to heal your past," now Mok began to waive his right arm over the city, "But we got your back until the bitter end. And you know that! We will fight side by side until the BITTER END! Now drink!"

Taking his flagon over to Zandelia he forced the handle into her hand, "Zandelia today forget about your worries. Promise me?" Looking his team mate eye to eye, Mok waited for a response, "Tonight we are getting loaded! It will take your mind off this stress alright?"

Taking the pulp out of his pocket, Mok yelled, "Ya here yet Cade? Cade? Sally! Bring me a singing kettle and some cups! I'm tipping if you come fast!"

"Right away Mok!" she yelled back at him.

~~~~~
9:58 AM

It was time now. The myrian sat in a close circle with his friends now. He had boiled the pulp down into a thick tea. Pouring each member of the group a cup of pulp tea, the myrian drained the whole kettle. Turning the device over, he scrapped the wet residue of pulp and placed it in a small black pile.

The scene had changed dramatically though. Wind was blowing through the curtains and the sky was almost completely black. The temperature was still mild, though. The myrian just shrugged though. Looked like a storm had suddenly arisen. No matter.

Mok raised his glass, "Lets do this."

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Aerika]

Aerika frowned with disapproval as the interesting man turned to attempt to ignore her. The small kelvic went to tug at his wing but upon touching the skin, she froze in place, enjoying the silky softness of the strange man's wing. Aerika started to rub the wing, mesmerized by the feeling, slowly caressing the wing and eventually leaning forward to rub her face against the wing. Aerika's eyes closed as she continued rubbing, a soft purr like sound left her throat as she lost all of her thoughts within the wings of the strange, grey furred man. Several moments past when she finally stopped and realized that she had been drooling and rubbing against the man. She looked up, slightly embarrassed that she fell into such an easy trance. She carefully lifted her face from his wing, and looked at the spot that she had rested her face and spotted a solid patch of her drool. Aerika looked at it a moment longer and took her arm to whip it away, hoping to get rid of it all. She nearly felt the urge to rub her face against his wing again as she continued trying to clean it but managed to resist. After she thought it was clean, she placed his wing back where it was moved from and took a step back, only to continue her staring at her curiosity.

[Carina]

OOCJust writing this so I'm not locked out of the thread. I'll have a better post coming up. Carina's day had only just begun and she found herself out on the streets looking for something to keep herself entertained. Of course, if she could find a few members of the Crimson Edge, things were sure to be fun. So that's what she did, setting out to the most obvious of locations. One that any member, or at least the founding members, knew of. The Pigs Foot Tavern. When there wasn't coin to be made, or trouble to be had, that's where most of them hung out. They were great business for the place. In only a short walk she was at the tavern doors and entering. Things were as busy as usual.