Tunnel entrance to Kalinor depths
After last season's long weather, The Symenestra placed faith in the promise of a new year, of new challenges, and newfound prosperity for their people. But those hopes and aspiritions were reduced to naught as the snows receded, they left flood waters in their wake.
Tension amongst the Esterians had never been higher, and the ruling couple had begun to worry. One could not travel from place to place by the cords without catching a shrewd glance or turn of nose, and now there were rumors that the events of 513, including Vandalism, pranks, and the disapperance of a child, were owed to a new and mysterious group of Symenestra, secretive in their nature, and impossible to identify.
Faith in the city, the people, and even Viratas himself was wearing thin. Silent rules were being broken, and the people had grown to develope a voice. And to make matters wore, a surrogate had beed missing for five days now, and searches of the city had proven fruitless.
Solutions to the hardships of the people had to be produced. Starting with this missing surrogate. And so a community meeting was held, and select Symenestra have volenteered to enter the last place to be searched for the eloped surrogate. The depths of Kalinor.
--x--
Vass Verin gripped his spear proudly, Exoskeletal armor gleaming faintly by light of Opalgloam. He was nervous, no doubt, but the man feared little, and his metle shone through his anxiety. He reveiwed his companions silently.
Valydor Scarlett Stood with his own spear in hand, rubbing the tip with soft felt, reveiwing it as if it were some precious gem. No doubt the weapon was owed much by the man, feeding him, protecting him, sharing in the hunter's bloodlust.
Next was Demyan Anice, Who leaned nearvously on the cavern wall, maroon eyes scanning the rest of the group quickly. His hand grasped the hilt of his blade, and the other was resting against the wall, fingers splayed. He was still as a stone, no doubt a ruse to appear unaffected by the situation at hand.
And last but not least, Ranger Raeli Dionaea. This woman was unfamilliar to most, but Vass had known her well these last few years. Feirce Orange eyes peered from beneath a leather hood, a bolt of bleech blonde hair escapping from its cover. Her face was covered with a black silken cloth, and her armor alone, steel fused with black leather, was enough to disettle any Ochya who had worked with the Verkai in the past. Although the silence presented by the others bore a tange of anxiousness and uncertainty, Her's was cold and deliberate. She stared patiently at the rocky outcropping before the dark tunnel, a clawed, silk laden hand stroking the quiver at her hip.
Just a few more chimes, and the others would arrive. Just a few more chimes, and they would be well underway, into the depths of hell, in search of what was likely to be a dead woman. Just a few more chimes....
