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Walk Among The Abyss

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    A Dream Within A Dream

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  1. Eating duck was far from the worst thing he had ever eaten. “Quite tasty they can be,” murmuring to himself, staring off into the sky as the blue chickens of the air flapped around. His agreement was with moving on. Plenty of coin to give for someone else to do the hunting and cooking. Yate made sure to hang back. His adventurous spirit had his eyes roaming over the landscape, becoming acclimated to the lands and making mental notes of their path in the event he needed to trek back to this wreckage. His silence never broke. The others were quiet, quiet enough that allowed the sounds of the wilds to find his ears; birds singing songs such as Alexis had sung, but in bird language, gave him a cheerful smile. Freedom to roam the lands, to smell the fresh air, and to hear nature. This was and would always be his life. Hold on. Did she pick the right direction? A little perplexing. The mage’s character was easily understood. The square block went into the square hole. Was there mystery? Of course, absolutely. He was just easier to understand. Alexis though. She was an anomaly. The short period of time Yate knew, very short indeed, she managed to go in the wrong direction twice and had the makings of a cat stuck in a cardboard box. Miraculously she must have guessed the correct direction, all three were headed that way. The answer was obvious. She was possessed. Simple answer. Simple solution. They might have to exorcise her later. This thought made him smile but he contained his laughter. Unsure if small talk was appropriate, he remained quiet. Some uneasiness lingered. It was noticeable. Three strangers, each different from the other like the duck flying was to the lizard that scurried. In time he was positive it would change for the better. An idyllic calmness followed behind him. Understanding that he was far from home and with strangers was not enough to damper his mood. If anything, it was an improvement from previous occasions. Realistically, his choices were numerous but the sense that fate had intervened couldn’t go unnoticed. Doors closed. Doors opened. Sometimes the waves guided you along and other times they swallowed you whole. Why fight it? Go with the flow. Take the path of least resistance until it is no longer an option. Occasionally, when life got rocky, the dice in his head would rattle, chattering as they bounced, unsure of what they landed on. No dice. No worries. His companions were here for a reason. Fata viam invenient, he thought.
  2. His journey to the lands of Yh’mi had proved invaluable. New world, new people, new and exciting adventures. This day, his level of enthusiasm was near the peak. Once more he found himself in the region to the south with the taste of discover on his tongue. His journey with Yh’mi, the person, had been advantageous to the traveler. Van’s lust for knowledge and curiosity could and would always get the better of him. With her, he was anchored down, a comforting weight preventing his borderline obsessions from getting to far out of hand. “I highly doubt they understand the dangers such as yourself,” replying to her statement. There was an acceptance by now that came from Van. Her life was a jungle of vines that even she did not seem to be able to untangle. He accepted the odd things she knew about the land, her holes in memories, and those peculiar moments where he was unsure of who she was. The man’s appearance gave an impression of leaving a funeral, dressed in all black, except for his dulled, lackluster armor that enveloped his left arm up to his shoulder. The hilt of his sword peaked out from behind his right side like a game of peekaboo. Green eyes greeted those near the gate. Van tucked away the pack of material into his leather satchel hugging against his left hip and found a spot to stand next to Yh’mi as she sat on the rock. When had he become her bodyguard? Scanning around, he recognized no one out of the group. He expected as much. Stroking the small morning star sphere that was connected to the metallic chain that wrapped several times around his waist, he stood, waiting, deciding whether his choice to become involved was worth the hassle. As he stared off into space, his thoughts fluctuated. On one hand, you do get to see more of these cursed lands. On the other hand, do you really want to get close to The Order? But you might get a chance to bring back a specimen. That would be something. Some blood samples would suffice. Maybe a tooth.
  3. I've got my post, waiting on Noblis to clarify something - granted it doesn't necessarily pertain to anything major so I can edit later.
  4. With a grumbling he caught the book and stared at the cover, “Hmm. Can’t say I care to read this but, the truth of your statement is just that, true.” For laughs and giggles, he crammed it into is pack. The book could grant some insight in his mangled knowledge of the region. “Nighttime reading, I suppose.” “You're a smart man” That stoic composure of his, the rocky exterior shell, had started showing signs of cracks and this, those words, broke him. The laugh came from no where and with it a smile as his head tossed back. “The last time someone called me a smart man tried robbing my ship. Are you looking at robbing my ship?!” This one will do, picking up a second spear and breaking the blade once more. Two would work. In case his geomancy – he liked that word – wouldn’t work to his benefit here. “Oh, I managed to conclude that this box with a key…really is a box with a key in it.” He continued with his jocular mood. “I would say that she would prefer for this key to go unnoticed by the world. I infer it holds some power, not like an artifact with destructive power but, possibly, a key that opens something she doesn’t want opened.” With those statements, he removed himself from the shack, donned his mask and welcomed back the muffled sounds of his voice. “Inherently good sounds like an oxymoron doesn’t it?” Evie couldn’t see his smug smile, “Inherently good. Inherently bad. I’ve met people who thought they were inherently good, blessed by the Gods so they thought. Only purpose was to protect the weak, save those in need.” “What happens to those whose beliefs run into a mountain of evil and power? They crumble. No, no. I think people are selfish, lack discipline, lack morals. The same people who love you one minute will turn on you because it’s in their best interest.” Anger splattered from his words, a deep seeded hatred for those who stood for nothing to gain a little. “What you think is good, might hurt someone else. When a kingdom fights to protect its dominion and exclaim that it’s for their Gods and their people, well, it’s really for their wealth, isn’t it? For a lust of power? A lust for greed?” Outside, back in the light, he grimaced at his testimony. “I’ve met good people, who try to do good. But inherently good, no. I don’t think so. I believe there is true evil in the world, that demons exist for the sake of chaos and destruction but I’m not so sure I believe any human, is born inherently good.” His voice lowered, swallowed up by a cascade of darkness, “I’m not educated enough on philosophy. I just know what I’ve seen. What I’ve experienced. Good exists. Inherently…I have a hard time believing in it.” Brushing aside a twig, he stepped, moved forward then spoke once more, “ As long as innocent people are made to play in games for the sakes of others, Kings, Queens, Rulers, Gods and Goddesses, then I don’t see how being inherently anything matters. Everyone is someone’s pawn in my eyes.”
  5. Empty eyes stared back at the waitress. “Slot tokens…” Repeating the words back, slowly, creepily, as if they were new to him. “Lag-Ri-Mos-Ian coins?” More repeating. More confusion. Drift smiled, bringing his bald head closer to his mouth. “I find myself getting lost lately without knowledge of knowing why,” at this he chuckled. He knew why or, he felt it. It was getting better. His odd mishaps were less frequent. The randomization though, was more frequent. “Yes, yes. Thank you. I will find it.”
  6. @True Lycalo “Where are my manners?!” How could he have been utterly rude to the creature? An introduction was the policy no matter the culture or species. “My name is Baltrex Numitor. Call me Baltrex oh feathery one.” Baltrex grinned, his eyes lasering over the figure in front of him until he was satisfied that he could replicate the image into his sketch book. “Tharraleos, that name rolls off the tongue simply enough. If you consider my family has names such as Thorog and Asbjorn, pronouncing your name is a task that even the small ones should have no trouble with.” From the belly came a laugh, “Tell me. How many of your kind are in the world?” Producing a small, leathery notepad form his back pocket, Baltrex licked the tip of a pencil and began a quick sketch of the entity. Jotting down the words “Tharraleos” and “Griffin” to remind him of this encounter. The giant of a man glances at the female, who up until now was soaked from the outside. Good, he thought. She got some food. @notmuch_23 A womanly steward approached the female, handing a few towels to her. "Here dear. Dry yourself off." With a gentle touch before walking off, the steward whispered, " Have as many of those cinnamon buns as you wish."
  7. With a cheerful smile he answered, “My errands are finished for now. I will have to visit the shop once more to pick up the items I’m afraid. Hopefully he is able to expedite the shipment.” His eyes glanced at her sword as she explained her request. “I don’t think it’s a strange request. I’d say the word strange has lost its meaning currently,” he chuckled slightly, eyes staring back at hers. He motioned her inside the tavern, “How about first thing in the morning? I’d like to settle in, relax a bit. You may not be hungry, but I am a mere mortal, some food is required to regain my joyous energy back!” It was true that the trek had made him somewhat hungry. His body was silent, no screams of aches or pains. The driving force was the book. It tugged at him. Curiosity filled his head like water pouring in a cup. Stepping into the tavern, his eyes adjusted to the lighting. His ears picked up on idle chatter; locals talking about their government and how one candidate was better than the other. Old men, talking about topics that did not pertain to him. “Ah, this will do. Yh’mi, let’s sit here,” gesturing toward an empty booth, near the corner and away from straying ears. Once seated, Van asked, “Why that sword?”
  8. It happened suddenly. His entire being shifted, his body erupted with adrenaline. An unnatural force had blinked into existence and he sensed it. Hairs awoke, standing up, he could feel his veins becoming hotter as blood poured to his extremities as water going over a waterfall. Blue orbs scanned without hesitating until they fell upon Evie, the source of his body’s departure from equilibrium. A singular word struck his mind as he muttered through his mask at her, “You’re dangerous Evie.” The door was easily concealed. Built within a natural tree grove, the wood frame masqueraded as local trees. Evie’s wink was accordingly met with a chuckle, “I believe this is just an outpost but if you’re hinting at a place to murder someone, well, this could be a candidate.” Reaching out, he turned the cold, discolored lever acting as a handle and pulled it inwards, away from the strike plate. The rust of the hinges proved troublesome at first, but with a shove, Keldorl pushed open the door accompanied by ominous creeks. Glancing back at Evie, he uttered a word, “Luck.” Not expecting to find a building so quickly, the natural arch of the trees made it a good assumption that it might have been used at one point as a path. “Little one, grant me some light.” The tiny sprite fluttered above his head with a smile, as she began to glow, illuminating her entire body until she had become a flying orb. The tiny sprite floated forward into the darkness, Keldorl’s feet quickly behind her, “Let me go first,” his words aimed for Evie. Following the sprite, Keldorl’s figure evaporated into the wooden structure. Once inside, he was greeted with a boring picture as the sprite hovered in front. The interior lacked substance, furniture, rusted spears and swords, and some old books made the room appear disheveled. The upside was noticed, no flowers. Removal of his mask gave him a better view of the building he stepped into. Chairs scattered about, some broken legs of wood piled in a corner, desks with books on the top. Running his fingers over one, the amount of dust wiped off spoke of how long these had gone forgotten. “Evie, alls good. No flowers. Just looks like…an old outpost. Possibly a messenger building. I’m not sure though.” Once located, Keldorl opened the shutters to the windows, allowing what sunlight could penetrate the building to illuminate the dark world. Still, not much was noticeable. All he saw was a plain building. Snatching up an old spear, Keldorl gripped the blade and crushed it within his covered left hand, the dust and pieces falling to the ground. Old, very old. Time had not been kind to the poor metal. The staff though, the wood had been saved by years of oil. Yes, he would hang onto the staff for now. As the sprite dimmed, he couldn't help but wonder if all the buildings were this desolate and dreary.
  9. Gray, he tossed the word around a bit, concentrating on it. “I suppose,” what did he suppose? “Honestly, it’s difficult anymore to decide what the truth is. I believe in the inherently good. I believe in the inherently evil. I also believe that those two things are not always so straight forward. Life is, complicated, I believe.” Pulling down his mask, securing it tightly to his head. “You are correct, let us move off this pathway and make our own trail.” Keldorl was never one to follow preordained routes. The forest, the trees, and the land had been his home since birth. With his right hand, he gently touched her forearm, pointing to the right of the path, through two large trees that naturally made a small doorway, “That way, shall we?” The disconsolate landscape was a dreadful sight on the eyes. The trees reflected a kind of sadness, not the same as humans or higher intelligent creatures, but sadness, nonetheless. As though the world had forgotten about this lump of dirt, a shadow had crept in and blanketed the land from the sun. Dreadful and horrendous things had transpired here. There was assurance of that painted on the landscape. Gray. There it was again. He began to speak, his words were like distant sounds, “Little point in preaching to you. I’m sure you’ve witnessed your own life lessons. Where some see a woman stealing food, others see a mother doing what she must for her child. Where a gathering sees a figure protecting his kingdom, a select few see a tyrant robbing them blind. No. I do not believe in everything being gray. Except for maybe the somberness of this land.” Wearing the mask, he would tire quickly listening to his voice echo inside the chamber. “Once inside, let’s find a place away from melancholic flowers and remove these.”
  10. The salamander spirit vanished in a wisp of smoke. The time limit had been reached as well as energy needed to keep it corporeal. Darkness took over. His mind once more shrouded in the fog of words. As his mind slipped into unconsciousness, his body continued to advance. The sound of eating originating from Delonix’s figure. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
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