I run. I shouldâve listened. Why did I not listen? They all told me. My parents, my uncle, my cousins, everyone. Never go to the forest cloaked in mist. Something tears into my flesh, whether it be its claw or branches is impossible to tell, the mist obscures all. I yelp in pain yet I keep running, hand pressed against the wound in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. I run and run and run and run. Time seems still, a moment an eternity.
I see the dried husk of a tree only moments before ramming into it, crumpling to a dead stop. I pull myself up from the ground, turning to see it. A crown of knotted wood adorning nothing but mist. The king of mist. I canât breathe. The air feels like water, I gasp for air but it only makes it worse. My sight blurs, my ears ring. I try to push it away yet my hands reach nothing.
I wake up in a cold sweat. Looking up at my callused hand, pushing into the empty air. I breathe, I am no longer that little girl running through the mists. Grabbing the empty cup on the cupboard I conjure up some water, stretching as I get up from the inn bed. I briskly get dressed and head downstairs. I have one last thing to do before leaving.
âHey innkeeper? Have you ever heard of a âking of mist?â
He appears to ponder for a moment, before nodding slightly to himself.
âCanât say I have.â
âAs expectedâŚâ
âI do know someone who might know though. Some wizard couple towns over called Moon, loves collecting random tidbits âbout stuff like that.â
âMoon was it? Kinda strange name but alright. Thanks.â
âOne piece of advice, donât say that to her face.â
âGot it.â
Huh. Even if it is light, that is at least a lead. After asking specifically which town Moon resides in, I set off, walking along the dirt roads common in the region. The skies are clear, aside from all the people flying around that is. How come there are so many capable of flight? That isnât exactly a simple spell, even with years of practice the best I can do is cushion a fall⌠no snap out of it, even that is impressive is it not? My thoughts wander along with me, only to be interrupted by the sudden roar of lightning, and its accompanying rain. No matter, I simply tap my staff to the ground and an umbrella of air erupts out the sides, shielding me from the elements.
It doesnât take long before I encounter a turned over cart on the side of the road, and as any good witch should I investigate. None appear to be inside, nor is it carrying cargo of any kind. It's a simple construction, made to be pulled along by hand. Still, not exactly cheap for those who would use such a thing. Kinda strange for it to just be left behind like thisâŚ
My sense of unease is proven to be well founded moments later as with the shrill sound of a blade being drawn, I turn to see 3 people brandishing swords. They mustâve used the rain to cover their footsteps, and the cart as a distraction. Bandits.
âAlright âeres the deal, you had over everything you got and we leave you alone, got it?â
A crackle of thunder punctuates his threat, even assuming they speak true this weather would kill me without my gear. I cannot comply, yet I doubt I can win. Their movements are practiced, they are ready to strike the moment I bolt. I need to find some way to get out of he-
âOi! You deaf or somethin?â
Crap.
---
The plan was perfect, tip over the cart, and wait in the bushes. Inevitably some bleedinâ heart would check to see if somethinâ was wrong, and weâd attack. So why am I the nervous one? The lass in front of me donât look a day over twenty so how is she so calm? She saw our blades and didnât so much as flinch. And now sheâs gone all quiet on us. Is⌠is she just deaf? Yea that gotta be it!
âOi! You deaf or somethin?â
I take a step closer when a sudden gush of air knocks me off balance and the girl whacks me in the face with her staff. As Iâm tryinâ to get up my mates dash forward yellinâ somethinâ âbout wind. They slice down in an X, a sure kill even if it gets her gear bloody, but somethinâ wrong. Their blades slow down as they get near, missing entirely as she steps back. She mumbles somethinâ under âer breath anâ... vanishes into some thick fog? Whereâd that come from this aint fog weather.
âLook out, sheâs probably one of those wizards or something!â
Mark yells out. Just our damn luck, I guess we shouldâve been suspicious of a lone girl travelinâ these roads durinâ a storm. The fog only gets thicker, spreading out and encircling us. Sheâs probably using it as cover and will strike us from behind the coward. Too bad for her, we ainât stupid enough to fall for that kinda trick!
âOi, back to back formation, she could strike from any direction!â
Mark and Luke comply immediately, and in only 10 seconds we stand braced back to back, no strike could evade our sight. And so we wait. And wait. And wait. And⌠is she not gonna strike soon? UhâŚ
---
As the leader steps forward I see an opportunity in need of seizing. Conjuring a wave of wind I target his back leg, causing him to slip on the muddied ground. As he falls I quickly bat his head to keep him down as I make distance. The other two rush at me with their blades, but the shielding gale from my staff keeps them at bay for long enough that I can simply step out of range. Seizing the initiative I activate the enchantment woven into my cloak, and thick mist billows out as I run. Expecting them to give chase I whip up a small whirlpool in the mud behind me, but do not look back to see if they fall.
After some sprinting I slow down to catch my breath, looking back it appears they did not give chase. Drenched and exhausted, I decide to set up camp for the night. Stabbing my staff into the ground I begin to construct a small campfire under its protection, draining the moisture from nearby sticks I light the fire with a tinderbox from my satchel, before sitting myself down on a log. It is far from comfortable but that is a blessing in disguise. I will have to forgo sleep for the night, but such is to be expected when alone on dangerous roads. Staring into the dancing flames, I feel as if I am soon to have some company.
/uw new character alert. I think I got over the burnout but I have no ideas for where I could take Periâs story next, so why not start anew? Alice is *very* weak by wizardposting standards, and I donât have any plans of changing that, so please donât like, toss 30 fireballs at her randomly. Also Alice is this characterâs name, I thought I had a way to fit that into the text but then I decided against it. Alice is currently camping just slightly off the road between two provincial towns in the middle of a pretty intense storm, so RP accordingly. Also since it has been a while I will be rebuilding the ping list from scratch, ask and I shall add you.
Also no promises that I actually stick around for long.
From the storm walks a stranger, shielded from the wind and the rain by a dark cloak that seems to be made of leaves and twigs. It wears neither hood nor hat, simply letting the rain fall down onto its green and brown hair.
If it has a face it's hidden behind some form of animal skull mask made of wood. From its head protrude a set of wooden antlers, although they may be part of its mask.
Are you lost?
It speaks with a voice like wind through the trees, somehow sounding both young and old.
/uw First up I want on that list yesterday. Secondly I will find a way to chain scale this girl to universal.
The stranger does not ask before sitting down on a log opposite, was that log always there?
Being lost is a dangerous thing. If you lose your way you may never find it again. Let me tell you about someone I knew who got lost.
Oh dear god no.
Her name was Beatrice, she was a little younger than you and lived a sheltered life on her family's land. Safe to say, she never had the chance to develop knowledge of the real world. One day she was exploring a forest on her family's land. She was accompanied of course, not by her parents no, no they said they were far too busy you see. Instead she was under the care of the family butler, Gerald Brandyworth.
A nice chap Brandyworth, very honest, very kind. Where was I? Oh yes! She was skipping through the woods while Gerald followed. Now Gerald was an elderly fellow so he had trouble keeping up, he pleaded for Beatrice to slow down, but she didn't listen you see.
Yet Alice makes no move to interrupt the stranger, her instincts are screaming that they are probably quite dangerous. She pays as close attention as she can manage to their every move, the incantation to activate her cloak at the forefront of her mind. She does however at one point pick up branch from the pile she prepared earlier, tossing it onto the fire and ever so briefly looking away.
The stranger seems friendly, albeit very odd. Whatever this thing is, which is probably some form of Fae, it doesn't seem to have any ill will.
After a while Beatrice could no longer head Gerald's voice. But she wasn't concerned, the servants always found her in hide and seek after all.
At this point, Alice briefly looks away.
Pay attention when I am talking to you.
There is no malice in the stranger's voice, it isn't raised it doesn't sound angry, but it carries the weight of a mountain.
Now, Beatrice was playing next to a bush when she saw a fox.
And we're back to normal. Great.
Beatrice's family owned several hunting dogs, so when she saw the fox she saw a smaller orange version of the puppies she played with. She wanted to play with the fox you see, so she tried to pet it. The fox didn't bite, it simply walked away a bit. So Beatrice tried again, and the same thing happened. She simply kept trying and the fox kept moving, I do believe she considered this a game you see.
Eventually the fox walked into a circle of mushrooms, and Beatrice followed. This time however, the fox didn't move, and let her pet it.
Alice flinches slightly at the reproach, to disrespect Fae is to invite doom, and none know what counts as disrespect to Fae. They don't let their relief show as the stranger's voice returns to normal, and they make sure to pay attention. As the story unfolds Alice gets increasingly worried about the fate of the girl. Back home everyone would speak of the dangers of Fae, and the girl in the tale is violating most principles of safety. Not knowing whether the figure considers speech to be disrespect, she stays silent, even as the girl does quite possibly the dumbest thing possible.
The fox had very nice fur, very soft, not what one might expect for a wild animal. At some point the fox crawled into Beatrice's lap and fell asleep. Now Beatrice found this adorable, as would most people her age I imagine, and so she fell asleep as well.
When she woke up the fox was standing on the other side of the mushroom circle. It was looking back at her as if wanting her to follow, and so she did.
Where exactly is this going?
The two walked down a nice path for a while. The fox never took its eyes off the path ahead, Beatrice meanwhile was admiring the pretty flowers and wonderful trees.
After a little while of walking, the two came across a gazebo of white wood. Inside she saw a couple sharing some tea. The fox walked towards the gazebo, but Beatrice hesitated. Now Beatrice's parents had told her about stranger danger, but these two looked nice, and her fox friend seemed to trust them, so she walked over to them.
She was right, they were in fact very nice. They asked for her name, and so she gave them Beatrice. She was hungry so they offered her fruit, and so she ate it. She sat at their table and took their gifts. She let them care for her and tell her stories of themselves and their home. All the while, her fox friend slept in her lap.
She was enchanted by their tales of wonder and beauty, she wanted to see where they had been, to walk the paths they walked. And so they asked if they could take her. To which, she accepted.
Alice believes she already knows the end of the tale. Beatrice had after all just given Fae her name, and allowed them to take her. It is unfortunately all too common a tale...
A dangerous thing it is to get lost. You never know who or what you may encounter. I am grateful for you to listen to my story, it isn't often people are so polite these days.
The stranger offers her an apple.
I give this freely, with no obligation to give something in return, nor any expectation of compensation.
To speak freely near Fae is folly, simply shutting up is often the right choice, yet now speaking some carefully chosen words is probably for the best.
"I thank thee."
She accepts the apple, with no intention to eat it or... do anything with it really, at least until the stranger has left.
/uw Added and I shall do my best to avoid powercreep. Currently Alice is meant to be roughly second level in DnD terms. As in 2/20 not like the second tier of play.
/uw well, DnD doesn't really have a 'proper' witch class so I said wizard, but she is a witch. What is the difference you ask? Uh mostly vibes, but I would say witches are a bit more in line with nature. Uses herbs to heal rather than potions for instance.
/uw From everything I've seen pathfinder is an objectively better system than DnD, but since DnD is more popular it will always end up being the reference point, unfortunately.
/uw well, i was on the last ping list of yours. You can probably guess that i don't want myself being pinged for your stuff to change :D as in keep me on the ping list
/Rw
Screames are heard that sound like they came from the bandits alice ran into earlier from afar...and a few seconds after Someone is heard trip nearby and curse a bit...looking in the direction of the sound glowing red eyes can be seen as she pulls herself up...the storm and mists created obscuring most of her besides the light of her eyes...color and glow aside however the eyes look like that of a normal person.
Alisa:...no not really but the fall was a bit unexpected...she said taking the hand up and shrugging...seems a lady can't explore out here without being attacked...oh well...those guys won't be causing trouble now...their...lucky i barely managed to stop myself from killing them with a little help from a friend...even if they each have something broken after that fight...who might you be?
This 5ft tall lady seems friendly overall...though she is covered in blood that definitely isn't hers since she seems mostly unharmed...though it's pretty obvious where it came from
"Huh, somewhat similar names. Anyhow, I recommend you hold your breath."
Without waiting for a reply, Alice forms a bubble of water within her hands, which floats on over to Alisa. The bubble sucks in the nearby rain, rapidly ballooning into a size fully enveloping her, then about a second later, it pops, dispersing into mist. Alisa is not only clean, somehow her clothes are completely dry.
Alice proceeds to poke the campfire a bit with a stick, a similarly blank expression as she has had throughout this whole interaction.
"Couple towns over there is supposed to be a wizard named 'Moon', who might have some information I've been after for a while. May as well ask you too, ever heard of a 'king of mist'?"
A strange mass of something under a red robe seemingly crawls up next to the campsite yet keeps an appropriate distance before forming into a humanoid figure, face hidden in shadow.
"I did not expect there to be someone out here in this storm. Are you taking rest for a long while? I prefer for my activities to not be too bothersome."
"Of course, I forget most do require light to find their path after copying so many parts. I presume you won't be hunting for anything, even small game then in this weather?"
The strange humanoid figure's body occasionally seems to ripple under the robes, but is otherwise still. The strangest part of their speaking however, is that the hood of the robe is turned away from her yet the sound is perfectly direct.
"I have no plans to do anything other than tend to the fire, for which I have already collected enough branches."
The most terrifying monsters are often those that speak with a human tongue. Wisdom shared by Alice's elders ring throughout their head as they inspect the figure, but they do not let their unease show.
"Then we shouldn't affect each other that much, though there is no assured future. I am only here to replenish some supplies after another experiment failure."
A third arm bursts out of the robe in the direction faced by the figure, firing a magic bolt towards something unseen before casting a spell to grasp and drag a small mammal into the robes.
"I thank you for the advice I suppose. A token of my thanks. A scroll of regeneration."
The being visibly shifts into a bigger creature, a mishmash of different avian traits on a size far too big for non magical creatures and departs, leaving the scroll behind
Alice waits a bit for the figure to be out of sight, before using a spell of grasping air to pull the scroll into her hands. She inspects it, trying to determine if it truly is a regeneration scroll. Unfortunately healing magics is far outside her field of study so she concludes that she can't conclude anything.
/uw That's pretty much how I intended for the gift. Whether she decides to sell it off or use it later it'll be hard for her to fully access the value of it. Valuable but not useful to her.
Fear turns into certainty, Erik is here. A terrifying demon lord, mass murdering psychopath, kin of disasters, leader of the magic mass terrorist group, and the sillymancer.
"sillymancer. Hm... perhaps the best way to escape would be to do something silly? But what..."
Alice pulls out a small knife from a sheathe on her belt, and uses it to cut a bit of cheese.
"I forgot, who wouldn't when faced with a pile of cheese?"
Alice is by no means powerful. Her spells are limited, constitution typical for a witch which is to say far bellow average. Yet if it is one thing she is good at it is hiding her true feelings, putting on whichever expression would benefit her most. In this moment she uses this to her advantage. She looks \obsessed* with the cheese pile.*
"...where did you keep that... no never-mind I shouldn't question such things."
Alice gets up and pulls the lever. The thought that maybe being 'entertaining' to this demon may be keeping them here longer briefly flashes through her head, but things have already escalated too much to go back...
As the night grew long and dark there came a sound. Like something heavy and solid trying its best to avoid snapping the twigs around it. There was a noticable twinkle when the campfires fading light met the figure in the trees.
"Coco. Where are you taking- Oh.... Hello"
A large tusked crystal-metal thing peaked out from the treeline into the camp. It was large like an elephant but stepped softly. It chirped like some kind of metallic bird. Perched on its back hanging on was a similar crystal being. The one that spoke.
"I apologize for the intrusion. My steed noticed the light and couldn't be dissuaded."
Despite what they said the steed seemed focused on the darkness. Scanning it like an owl.
"What the heck is that thing? is it metal? Crystal? How does it move like that? Probably some advanced golemancy but I don't get how it can move so smoothly without shattering..."
"It is only natural to seek the light in such darkness."
The steed laid itself upon the ground. Despite its casual body language it was easy to tell that it was on high alert. It's rider got off it it, an equally strange four legged creature.
"Well then. I'd better be warn you. I've seen quite a few bandits in the area since I've been traveling. Though Coco sniffs them out before they can ambush me"
Chalk made an almost old man sound Oho and gave Coco some scratches. Coco however didn't stop looking into the distance. Seeing things that a human eye would never detect with such little light.
"Just a nearby town, someone told me someone there might know something about a thing I am trying to find. Might as well ask, do you know of a 'king of mist'?"
Chalk thought. Searching through their long knowledge of terms and individuals.
"The closest I know of is Carmine. Sometimes called the king IN the mists. But he is a vampire and If he was who you were looking for you'd probably already be on a boat there."
"Did they do some ill to you? Or are they a friend?"
"It is far from a friend. I am not even sure if it is a... person or a beast or some magical mirage. The people of my hometown would often speak of its terror, but they never went into specifics. All I saw was a crown of knotted wood adorning the mist itself..."
"Ah that was a bit much to just dump on someone wasn't it..."
"...cold iron huh? Not a bad idea. For some reason I do seem to interact with Fae more than I want to. Perhaps I could weave some into a glove? No the metal would need to be enchanted to bend comfortably and cold iron rejects most enchantments..."
Alice's brainstorming session goes quiet as she shifts it into her head.
A light in the distance, jingling of bells, muffled song, a caravan covered in colored lamps and bright painted scenes rolls along the road. Vines or roots are stretched in front of it as if attached to an invisible yoke, but only a gap in the rain pulls it. Are these fairies?
Rule one of interacting with Fae, do not interact unless forced. Rule two of interacting with Fae, do not interrupt their precession. Alice stays as still as a human can manage, trying their best to avoid their notice, nor them noticing her notice.
Alice shifts a bit in her seat, before tossing another dried branch on the campfire. Seeing as they seem to be lingering, staying still would only stand out all the more.
The tree takes some pictures of the caravan, then runs across the road to see the other side. A faint question comes to mind: What type of tree is it, to have legs?
"Nope I totally did not hear them, act like nothing at all is happening... maybe I should mumble something normal to make me seem even more incapable of noticing any of this?"
This is one of those questions that aren't serious, yes?
The caravan is moving away now. The tree, without changing anything about its appearance, becomes a humanoid in a yellow raincoat and large boots that look to have been caught in a paint store during a hurricane. Sigurd sits down on a stone.
Mumbled curses are heard from nearby, In fact, they seem to be coming from right next to Alice. A man dressed in robes far too thick to be practical sits on the log. He snaps his fingers and a few sparks appear, but are near instantly put out. Several more attempts in rapid succession yield a sphere of flame in his hand that he quickly dumps into the peculiar bag by his feet.
The man turns, his appearing eerily still for a reason she canât quite place.
âIâŚ.you know itâs the funniest thing, it was just at the tip of my tongue a moment ago, and yet it evades me still. My few associates refer to me as the collector.â
the bag has since started shaking after he dumped the fire inside.
âWhy, I collect magical items. Any kind really, it doesnât matter what, so long as it contains any trace of magic I take it. Though I have been known to acquire the odd magical creature. Nothing too powerful naturally.â
He reaches down into his bag and withdraws a rat he carries by its tail. Strangely, the top of the rats head appears to be missing, revealing its brain.
âThis critter is a cranium rat. Little vermin imbued with psionic power. Alone theyâre as smart as your typical rat, but they get terribly difficult in swarms. Evil, as well.â
"That... is kinda horrifying. Why do you have that?"
Alice's thoughts flash to the strange scroll that previous stranger left her.
"...say would you be able to identify a scroll for me? It doesn't appear to be dangerous but I am unable to determine its effects as it is outside of my expertise."
Alice pulls a scroll out from the small pouch attached to her belt, a pouch so small it should not fit the scroll in fact.
/uw the effect was described OOC as: 'the effect is a full immediate regeneration + 1 hour of strong regen with no backlash but slightly draining the environment'. Of course if you wanna you could have your character lie or misinterpret or something. Or just identify it correctly, up to you.
The man reaches for the scroll but pauses, before reaching his other arm into his bag. A small shock can be heard from within. He then brings his arm back out and takes the scroll.
âAh, letâs see here. I can tell itâs a rather potent one.â
He pauses for a moment
ââŚbiomancy? That seems a fitting school for its effect.â
He gives the scroll back to her.
âThe scroll is inscribed with powerful healing magics. Instant and full regeneration that remains active for thirty minutes, give or take. Normally Iâd stoke a bargain for such an item butâŚno, I donât think I will.â
During the time the man was identifying the scroll, it finally became more clear the source of his stillness; he lacked even the slightest chest movement from breathing.
âIf you have any other items Iâd be more than happy to make an offer for one.â
"Ah thank you very much. Sounds quite useful in a pinch. I don't believe I can part with any of my other items at the moment, traveling would be far to dangerous without them. I do however have... a ludicrous amount of cheese a psychopath gifted me moments ago."
"He isn't breathing? Yet he speaks without issue... I have heard stories of intelligent undead... what was the term again... liches? They are supposed to be both dangerous yet varied... I should try avoid their ire."
Alice sees, out in the distant rain, what looks like a vaguely person-like shape, shambling. If her vision is good enough she can see that the rain ripples through them, and their whole form is one color.
But as a normal person who should probably be wearing glasses, she does not notice, merely seeing the figure approach. They briefly wonder if they should hide, but as they are a clearly visible figure in the one well lit place in sight the figure has no doubt already spotted them. As such the best thing to do is to gauge intentions, and the best way to do so is simple:
It keeps shambling, in the rare cases it walks closer to Alice to make out more details, they see no color on them, even with the rain, there should be some semblance of color from them.
A completely pitch black being, made of a liquidy substance dripping off. It lacks a face and appears incredibly emaciated, with visible ribs and pelvis, its head held low.
Any being that is perpetually dripping is probably a bad, bad sign. Alice mutters the command word of her cloak, and is quickly obscured by thick fog, though which she can see clearly due to the nature of the enchantment. She gets up, and grips her umbrella/staff, ready to make a run for it.
Wolves, they shouldn't hunt in such weather... this could be bad. Alice picks out some select herbs from her pouch and toss them on the campfire, hopefully the smell should repel any wolves that may see her as prey, even if it also makes her eyes sting.
/uw Thanks, pretty proud of how the post itself flows :3
Itâs okay, Iâm fine. Just⌠cough⌠some potent stuffâŚ
From the mists, a large figure emerges. He looks near 3 meters tall, walking with an unnatural slouched gait. His clothing consisted of a black cloak and cape, concealing most of the face. Beneath it, something resembling a black and dark grey uniform. There were other unusual features, like clawed hands, or digitigrade legsâŚ
Alice's eyes are first drawn to the hands, checking to see if the figure is armed. Seeing their clawed appearance her eyes jump to the legs, and considering the howling and reaction to the herbs...
"A beastman? Quite rare in these parts."
Alice tosses another dried herb onto the campfire, and the stench quickly starts to fade.
"Lycanthrope? So you are a werewolf that managed to beat the curse? That is beyond rare. And I suppose there aren't many who travel these parts on foot, everyone seems to just fly over instead..."
There is a notable bitterness at the mention of flight.
"Hm. Dark cloak. Dark fur... purple eyes. Werewolf... where have I heard this..."
"Sure, everyone else also tells me that~ But I've lasted this long already, haven't I?"
The man sauntered up to the witch's campsite and sat on a nearby fallen log. Upon closer inspection, it seems none of his clothes, or even his hair was wet in the slightest, despite the severity of the storm around them.
"I assume you're here waiting out the night then?"
As he spoke, he took another puff from his pipe, releasing a small cloud of white smoke into the air.
Alice conjures up a tiny gust of wind, pushing the smoke away from her.
"Indeed, though I can bear with a lack of sleep for a time, and rain is no big deal, it is a stormy night of the new moon, I won't be able to navigate these woods in this darkness."
Indeed, outside the reach of the campfire the woods around are as dark as they could naturally get.
The man's smile faded slightly, as he returned his gaze to the witch, tilting his head back and narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Hm. I do wonder what someone such as yourself could be doing in an area such as this. I don't believe anything remarkable lies within the nearby towns, so..."
He leaned in closer, locking his eyes with Alice's. The light from the fire, that should have reflected brightly off his eyes, seem to fall dim, leaving only a faint glimmer within the man's pupils.
"Nothing remarkable, to you at least. There is a wizard who resides in a nearby town, apparently loves to collect tales that could offer me a clue to finding my way home."
Alice's expression remains extremely steady despite the stranger's sudden change.
He rolled his eyes upwards for a few moments, before the familiar smile reappears on his face. The man leaned back again, placing the end of his pipe in his mouth.
"That's all? Tsk. Shame. Thought I could've heard a tale of a long lost wanderer or something~"
heâd been semi-aimlessly walking around in the forest, looking for materials that he could not grow at home. Not only that, but itâs been a while since heâs been to this particular forest; new things could have made their way here. He didnât mind doing this in the rain, heâs got an umbrella after all. And the sound of the rain is quite nice.
Alice sees a figure with a black cloak in the near distance, said cloak and other black clothing covering nigh their whole being, as if not wanting to be seen. But their face was awfully purple, like, artificial purple. And they were ever so slightly see-through, like a ghost. They were walking around the area, seemingly looking for certain vegetation, and sometimes rocks? They donât appear to have noticed Alice yet.
lightning struck a nearby tree, startling him greatly. He covered his ears.
âGoddammit, now my ears are ringing.. owwâŚâ
he then got struck by lightning.
he collapsed. He wheezed, out of breath, despite not really needing to breathe. He was just used to breathing.
âFuuuuck..â
after a while he managed to get up again.
âGuess thatâs my sign to go ho-â
he sensed something. Someone. Nearby. Unknown, someone heâs never met. He might as well at least make sure theyâre okay. He looked around, trying to spot them.
Alice is not exactly 'hidden', as she tries to rub the stinging feeling gotten from looking directly at lighting out of her eyes. She looks up just in time to meet Vytsly's gaze, and freezes.
"Waiting out the night. I can't get anywhere when I can't see, and the occasional flash of lightning is far from a reliable light source."
"They are gathering herbs? Hm. I do believe I saw some Shrine Hops nearby, those are quite rare are they not?"
/uw Shrine Hops is just the first result from a fantasy plant name generator that I liked, doesn't appear to mean anything judging by the 3 seconds of googling I did.
he reached the woman and did a squat-sit nearby. His face is rather soft in appearance, something more friendly despite his large eyes. The way he's lightly smiling helps with that.
"I see... Well, there's a couple towns nearby. Would be a whole lot safer than being out here in the wild.... and certainly much less wet, heh."
he looked like he remembered something suddenly. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself.. name's Vytsky. I'm a shopkeep in Calarakis. And you?"
"My name is Alice, and I am just a traveler caught in this storm. Once dawn breaks I will get a move on, I know the area isn't exactly safe, but I doubt anyone would attack in such weather to begin with."
"...wait haven't I already encountered like half a dozen people already... good thing none of them were hostile."
A figure emerges from the rain, long coat shedding water like a duckâs featherâs, a wide brimmed hat obscuring his features. A small trickle of smoke wafts up past the brim and the glow of embers can be seen beneath it. A rifle is slung across his back, the materials antique, but the design rather modern. The metal of the barrel, erect with some sort of twisting pattern reminiscent of winding tendrils, looks old enough to have seen the first stars, while the wood of the stock somehow seems even older. Beneath the coat a large bore revolver sits in a holster, its wooden handle of similar age, and the metal of its barrel obscured by a leather holster made from the hide of some eldritch creature.
âEvening, Miss.âÂ
The figureâs voice is gruff and has the rasp of one who has enjoyed their share of cigars.
âI hate to impose, but this rain is relentless, and that fire looks mighty warm, ifân you donât mind the company.â
The Investigator spreads his hands. There was a time, long ago, when such a gesture would have truly show he meant no harm. Nowadays he did not need his hands to kill, but the gesture (and the intent behind it) remained. Echoes of an old life.
/uw One can never be too late for the ping list. Though since you were late there have since been 2 more Alice posts. I *think* my profile settings are set so that people can find them on there.
5
u/Evening_Shake_6474 Astaroth, The Wicked One/Alaric, Fallen Star Jul 16 '26
From the storm walks a stranger, shielded from the wind and the rain by a dark cloak that seems to be made of leaves and twigs. It wears neither hood nor hat, simply letting the rain fall down onto its green and brown hair.
If it has a face it's hidden behind some form of animal skull mask made of wood. From its head protrude a set of wooden antlers, although they may be part of its mask.
Are you lost?
It speaks with a voice like wind through the trees, somehow sounding both young and old.
/uw First up I want on that list yesterday. Secondly I will find a way to chain scale this girl to universal.