Fantasy RP (In The Trees Do They Lurk..)

[Zaleramancer]

It was a beautiful scene.

A lovely spring morning, with the gleaming colors of the dawn painting the sky. A few beams of new sunlight shone from between the leaves of the many healthy looking trees around the faint path. The trees themselves are a million shades of brilliant emerald with a small burst of color in the form of a fruit or flower from here to there. Drops of dew cling to rosy apples and brilliantly colored blueberries sprouting from the undergrowth. Songbirds twitter as they dance from branch to branch, flashing in colors of red and blue.

The path wound through the trees, barely visible in some cases. Other than a few merchants and the occasional pilgrim, it was unlikely that anyone had come along this way in a long time. Ever since the hamlet stopped cutting lumber several decades ago it dropped off the map of most of civilization, except for a few traders who came for the plants that grew in the fertile soil. Of course, you'd heard a few rumors. Lots of nymphs and nature spirits are supposed to be around here, not to mention several tribes of elves. Most people are rumored to have a bit of fey blood about them, from the gradual... interactions with the locals.

Pleasant enough place, this Drathel. It is small, devoid of a real wall. Fertile looking fields sprang from near where the trees began and wrapped around the homes of the villagers. The hamlet itself was little more than a collection of cottages and what were practically huts gathered around a central plaza. Several small trees, bushes and gardens filled in most of the space between houses, with little room for a few crooked roads leading to the plaza. The Plaza itself was were many of the villagers spent time off, where children played and families ate when the weather was agreeable.  It was also commonly used as a staging ground for religious festivals, particularly those devoted to nature gods. Facing the plaza are the older buildings, made from imported stone from back when the hamlet was still a lumber camp. The largest of them is a two-story stone cottage covered in ivy, which serves as the house and office of the Lord Mayor.

Villagers of all shapes and ages wander around the streets and on the Plaza. However, a common theme soon becomes apparent. Almost all of them are energetic, youthful and attractive looking. Even those that display signs of age seem to have aged gracefully. In fact, an aged couple appears to be dancing in the center of the Plaza now, attracting attention and cheers from their fellows. Pointed ears and other odd features abound, exotic hair colors and strange features like clawed hands or oddly clip-clopping feat can be seen or heard around a few villagers. Few of them appear to be actually working, instead most lounge or talk. Music and laughter can be heard all the way across the fields.

No doubt that a weary traveler could find someplace to rest at, though anyone desperate enough to come here would surely be running from something, or perhaps coming on a religious pilgrimage. Though, there are rumors of the Adventurer's Guild finally sending someone to establish a post in this remote backwater.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

This was nice.

Yep, this was just fine.

A figure clanked down the sunny path, long face and leathery skin taking in the spring sunlight wherever it burst through the canopy. The pockets of her dress were filled with blueberries and the big pot strapped to her back, causing a hunched stance, had a good number of the fresh red apples that grew round here. Above it all, no one had seen her and screamed that a scaly old lizard witch had come to eat them.

Yep, Gretchen Crocker was just fine. The small hamlet loomed in the distance, open and inviting. Gretchen took up her wide brimmed straw hat, set it on her head, and tried to do the same as she walked in.

It didn't take long for a group of children to come screaming round a corner, take one look at her, then go screaming back around much more literally. Yep, that was to be expected. It's not that she looked mean or anything. She was always smiling, she couldn't stop smiling if she tried. Gretchen reckoned that that might be part of the problem.

Oh well, no need to get discouraged seeing as that happened pretty much everywhere she went. Somewhere, among these beautiful people was the woman who had changed her life. The very least she could do is find and repay her. At least, she might be here. Gretchen hadn't exactly gotten a name all those years ago, and to be fair all pointy eared folk kind of looked the same to her, but the butcher in the last town had said "If you need to find ya a half-elf, Drathels the place to look. The place is lousy with knife ears." He had been a nice dwarf, gave her a discount on meat. Very polite.

If the woman was here, then she she better get to asking around. Town squares were usually good for that. She went in that direction.

[Mik_Hael]

     G minor, A minor, C Major, G Minor, C Major, A minor, C major, G minor. The sound of a guitar drifts over the market place behind the background of the chattering creatures going about their way. The music is emanating from a lean hooded figure sitting in the eastern corner of the Marketplace. his guitar is mostly metal, save for the wooden finish, in which is a faded carved message "To my son Scourge, may you follow in your father's footsteps or die trying. Scurros." A passing vagrant pauses to d rop a few peices of copper into the small cup in front of the figure, before going on their way. me. "Nice," The figure pauses from his playing to pick up the metal cup and shift through it's contents throwing out a small rock that had been dropped in by a jokester. "...great, almost enough to buy half of a piece of bread." The youth sighs and leans back.
      "You know," A voice emanates from an oblong bundle on his back, roughly four feet in length, covered in brown cloth and bound with twine. "you could always kill someone and take their valuables, I'm sure no one would notice, and hey, maybe you can feed me as well." A red glow emenates a foot from the top of the bundle.
      "No, we can't do that, first they seem to have stricter laws her concerning death than they do in the demon world, and I'm not going to let Scurros or the rest of them have the pleasure of finding us in a human prison, and second, I don't care what mom says, we don't kill indescriminately.
      "What about the one who dropped a stone in our cup, I think that we can still see him from here."
      "....No. Now be quiet, no one is going to give charity to a traveller sitting in the corner of the market talking to themselves."
      "fine, fine" a red glow emanated from the cloth fades slightly, "But at least kill something, I'm hungry here!"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

She hadn't gone 5 feet into the square when she saw something that arrested her attention. She should be looking for leads, she knew, but it just wasn't in her to ignore something like this.

A shadow fell over the man who was talking to himself. If he were to look up, he would see a pleasantly plump bipedal alligator looking down at him with an unreadable expression. At least, until she began to speak, her tone almost disapproving.

"Land sake alive boy, how did you get ta be in such a state? You're nothing but skin and bones. There's plenty to ear round here if you just look, sonny. Though, I don't suppose you can live on just apples better'n I can. Here, you just sit back and let Gretchen fix you something."

She quickly set out her wood and made a small fire, before taking taking her pot off her back and pulling something wrapped in a red stained cloth out of it. She unwrapped it, and tossed the cloth into the fire, reveling two strips of red meat. Taking the large frying pan from her side, she laid it on the fire and, after some time, dropped the meat into it. The sizzling smell of frying meat wafted up from the pan, and Gretchen's eyes fixed on them with a great intensity.

"Got these off some sort of hog beastie I met on the road." she said out of the corner of her mouth. "Almost killed me that I had to leave most of it there, but I didn't have enough salt to save it all."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

A voice whispered from the silence of oblivion, Phasma...You hear us, Phasma...You KNOW you hear us, Phasma...

The spirit medium remained straight-faced, steady in her posture. She would not let them rule her day with their petitions.

Phasma...Answer us, Phasma...we will NOT be ignored, Phasma...

Her stone face cracked into annoyance.

Phasma...Phaaasma...PHAS--

"WHAT???" Phasma finally broke out of her meditation with an angry shout, scaring the patron who had scarcely entered the door.

You have a patron. The voice came again, with what sounded like a smile.

She blinked vacantly at the patron, who still was too startled to move forward or backward; she straightened her face, gently friendly now, and gestured to the patron, "I...apologize for that. It wasn't directed at you, I assure. You...you came for something?"

The patron smiled weakly, "Well...er, yes. My friends tell me that you have a connection to the spirit world."

"In my family line are exorcists, necromancers, spirit mediums, undead slayers; I am bound in my profession to matters of death and the soul, yes." Phasma straightened her dress, "Did you come to employ my services, or no? I'm not feeling particularly friendly to debunkers."

[Mik_Hael]

       "..."The youth looks up at the gator woman without only a small change in expression, leaning towards mistrust"...okay what's her angle..." he thought, "poisoned? drugged? .....maybe she's one of dad's...."  
        "JUST TAKE THE DAMNED FOOD BEFORE I GROW A MOUTH EAT IT MYSELF!!!" the voice interrupted his train of thought as the red glow intensified briefly into a bright flash.
       "Alright, alright, but if we end up being taken to a ritualistic sacrifice again, I'm not letting you forget this."Scourge takes the food and esamine it a bit before quickly devouring it. "Thank you...Demon?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Hmm? Oh, heavens no. Gator. Now don't go felling bad because you don't know us, we're a little race and pretty much live in only one place.'

She pulls an apple from the pot and hands it to him.

"Here, honey. Dessert."

[Mik_Hael]

Scurros snatches the apple and quickly wolfs it down, including the core, the youth wipes his mouth with his sleave before "Thank's, is there anything I can help you with? I don't like being left in debt."

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Olivia Descartes looked around the town. It looked inviting enough, but one could never be too sure. As soon as the previous town had found out that her family practiced Blood Magic, they'd been chased out of town, their house burned, and screams of "They're vampires that can walk in the sunlight!" flying after them.

Now her family was scattered to the four corners of the world with no way to contact any of them, since she'd accidentally dropped her Communication Gem during the confusion. She'd need to make another one, but she didn't know how to do so yet. She'd need money first, though. That was of paramount importance. Olivia walked cautiously into town, looking out for any Wanted posters featuring her or her family's faces.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

Logan trekked wearily through the maze of tree's, his energy severely depleted from his long journey. He grunted as he staggered from fatigue and knelled for a moment to catch his breath.

"Blasted town, where the hell is it? I've been walking for days" Logan groaned to himself beneath his breath before pulling himself to his feet and resuming his travel.

It was then then he smelled something cooking. He paused to sniff the air for a moment, the smell reviving him slightly. he set off once more towards the smell. Soon, he could here the idle chatter of several people in the distance. He picked up his pace, he was nearly there. Suddenly, he was through the trees and standing before Drathel. He'd arrived.

"Finally," he muttered to himself as he shifted the large bundle of cloth and leather on his back. Beneath the dirty cloth rested his only companion, Wayward Soul. He'd traveled here to escape the torment and ridicule he'd faced in his home town. As a half elf, they had never treated them as one of their own. He was "unfit" for both elven and Human jobs then, but here he was hoping for a fresh start.

Logan glanced around the square taking in the sights. He ran a hand through his coppery hair and strode purposefully towards the nearest building. He needed to find somewhere to stay.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Just pay it forward, honey. S'all I'm doing. Though, don't s'pose you seen a woman with red hair and pointy ears who's a better cook than me?""

[Mik_Hael]

"Not in this world, sorry."

[Marvelous Miscreant]

It wasn't long before the initial joy of finding the town wore off and Logan remembered that he was exhausted. He quickly slumped down next to a tree and dozed off for a quick nap. His sword tucked neatly beneath his arm.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The consult went well; Phasma made twenty copper pieces. And that would be rather handy. She was starving, and she was pretty sure Casper was, too.

Speaking of which--

"Casper?" She called out, "Casper, are you around?"

"I am." came the velvety male voice, "Who else would have gotten rid of Wilbur for you? Lord knows he won't listen to you...Now. What's for lunch? I've got a taste for tuna, myself."

The lithe, black feline form curled himself elegantly around a statue, purring gently, and then made his way into Phasma's lap. She petted him gently, and he looked up affectionately at her. She should have known better than to think Wilbur would leave her alone without the help of Casper.

"You read my mind, cat." Phasma spoke cheerfully, "We should get something to eat, before you go to skin and bones."

"I could actually go for skin and bones." Casper chuckled.

Phasma giggled; Casper always knew how to cheer her up. With that, she stood, and picked up the handsome black cat, petting his head gently. Hopefully, the tavern was animal-friendly.

[Philote]

Villagers give wary glances as Pion lumbers into town. This was the first leg of his heritage quest, and even though he had not heard anything of note from this quiet little village, Pion still had to prove his worth to his clan.

Pion was Pion "Flaskbone" of the Cauldron Clan, and he was at the age for the Goliath's of his clan to prove themselves for positions of honor. He wore a traveler's outfit decorated with the grey and light red cloths of his clan and a black cauldron emblem with spectral fumes rested above his heart. His head was clean shaven and his feet were left bare, most paths did not bother his stoney skin. A large backpack rested on his back filled with what adventuring gear he had managed to collect before his departure, and Pion's prized possession, a large, black, clan made Cauldron Shield, was strapped to his waist for easy access.

Sweet scents and strange tunes attract Pion's attention as he wanders through the town, but his interest is not peaked enough to investigate. Instead, Pion journeys to the town's inn and orders a cheap meal, making the innkeeper the first citizen to work up the courage to speak to him. The meal leaves Pion wanting more but he had to be frugal with his money if he was ever going to purchase resources from his clans special stock. After the meal, Pion relaxes in the inn to recuperate from his journey to the village, he could track down the Adventurer's Guild when he was back to full strength.

[Zaleramancer]

As Gretchen and Scurros spoke, a small wooden ball covered in worn cloth bounced from a gaggle of children towards them. It came to a slow standstill between the two.

A quick chorus of whispers and pokes later, and one of the children was shoved forward. He looked to be the youngest of the bunch, around six years or so. He stumbled forward and snatched the ball, glancing at the two strangers with bright green eyes.

"Why you covered w'th scales?" He asked to Gretchen, with the complete lack of propriety so common among children.

=================================

Oliva attracted a few stares, more because of the fact that she appeared to be fully human than anything else. In fact, she attracted the attention of one person in particular.

A tall, lean young man with dark brown hair and the startlingly green eyes so common in people around here. He slid up next to her with a smile.

"Hey. You visiting from far away, miss?"

================================


The tavern and the inn were one and the same.  Positioned within easy walking distance of the plaza, it was an cozy looking two-story building made of some reddish wood. Elaborate carvings decorated the doors and shutters, images of dancing forest creatures and swinging trees abounded.

Inside, the first floor was comfortable. Open windows let in the sunshine and warm breezes and tables were sprinkled liberally around the wide floor. An old looking bar stood at the back of the room, next to a stair-case leading upwards.

However, the tavern was nearly deserted. Evidently, everyone had opted to spend the day outside, except for a few old men playing some obscure dice game and the only present worker, a young woman with green hair and a relaxed expression. She eyed the mysterious stranger with a cat worryingly, probably thinking that she'd have to get her something.

Her expression got even more panicked when a large stone man entered the room, head nearly scrapping the ceiling.

She rushed over.

"A-Ah'm  Hazel. What can I get yew?"

============================

The half-elf slept.. and dreamed.

Something about this place echoed within his mind. It moved through his blood... At least, half of it.

Something echoed with the blood of the Elves.

Of moving through the endless green woods.

Wildness, growth, reaching towards the sunlight, passion, movement.

Images of fey creatures. Satyrs chasing Nymphs, Green Men tending trees, Elves partaking in some wild dance.

It calls.

Humans come. They attack the trees.

No, no. Come with us. Be us.

They change. Blood mixing, children born, axes thrown down.

A sense of passing. Of years flying by.

Something changes. Nymphs flee, Satyrs vanish, Green Men rage, Elves prepare for war.

Undercurrents of blackness, of something wrong. It moves through the dream, eating at the greenness. At the growth.

The humans that were feel it too. It touches their dreams. Unease in their bones.

Animals go wild. Safety vanishes.

Calling, Calling.

Help

Marv wakes up, jerking away from the tree. He's next to the tavern now.

Did he even fall asleep here?

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Olivia regards the man cautiously, "Yes, I've come from afar and was wondering whether there would be any work I could do for a few coppers or more if possible. Would you happen to know of any work of that kind?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Our god looked at where we lived, and decided we needed every 'vantage we could get. Don't suppose you know anyone in this town whose an amazing cook?"

[Mik_Hael]

Scourge glances over at the children for a few seconds before gathering up his things and wandering away into plaza slowly while the group is distracted.

[Philote]

(I already mentioned finishing the meal in my last post so I'm going to skip ahead, also, what race is Wulf?)

Finally growing tired of the strange glances thrown his way, Pion decides to start up a conversation. There were not many souls in the inn, and that was before he had come lumbering in. The innkeeper had already moved off after giving him his meal, leaving only a woman who was giving off as strange of a feeling as he was to the villagers.

"Hello there, you do not seem to be a local either. What brings you through this place?" Pion asks her. His voice was rough like all Goliaths, but it was not as coarse as some of the more secluded members of his tribe.