Ærworuld (Dark Medieval RP, IC) [Ended]

[Sarejo]

The world of Deorc Sceadu holds the remnants of humanity, nearly destroyed by a long forgotten apocalypse, leaving the Old World decimated and forgotten. What basic science survived the catastrophe is regarded as magic, and guns have been completely forgotten, replaced by steel and bows. A disease ravages the land of Ærworuld, the area once known as the Pacific Northwest, and only small communities survive, with a few banding together under various banners that constantly war with each other. The concept of Peace is a long forgotten ideal, with war, famine, disease, and death the only reality left. The tale of this dark land began long ago, but a new chapter in the story is beginning. Enter Wanderer, into Ærworuld.

Link to OOC

[Glendalia]

Harlot Town

Kevroyce Mehnew thanked the Captain of the caravan and bade him thank his other officers and guards on her behalf. As she did this, one of those guards lifted her wooden push cart off of a wagon that it had been secured to and gently set it down on the earth.

"It was my pleasure," said the Captain. "My thanks to you as well, your medicines have greatly eased my pain, especially in the big toes. I will do my best to abide by the diet restrictions that you've recommended."

"Remember that only in succeeding to follow my advice will the matter stop recurring," Kevroyce replied and blew him a kiss for good luck.

She turned away from the town's campground and looked at the scene. She tried not to judge and she pushed any disdain that she might have for the town's inhabitants to the back of her mind. Not everyone gets a nice path to follow and a body has to eat. So, she'd abide here for a bit. There were rashes and diseases and women having babies that needed caring for. Yes, there was always work in Harlot Town.

[Sarejo]

Aethlen, Kingdom of Bradkirk

Aldwulf walked through the village, sword strapped to his back, and enjoyed the sounds of life. It had been a lig while since he had been near civilization. Remembering his last hunt, which had been a very hard fight, he decided to make a stop at the village's blacksmith in order to sharpen his sword. He located it, Sé Rómig Hamor. He walked up the steps to the porch and approached the smith.

"Gréting Isensmiþ, éaðe icáscirpan mín beaduléoma?" he asked the smith.

The smith looked up from his anvil at the newcomer and nodded. "Gese, sé sy fif goldæht." he replied.

Aldwulf reached into his coinpurse and pulled out five coins and handed them to the smith. He sat down at the whet stone and pressed the pedal to get it moving. He then began to sharpen his sword, and when he finished it, he got up and thanked the smith. He then continued his exploration of the small village. Finding a tavern, he entered it and ordered a pint of ale and a room for the night. He then scanned the room, as he had heard there was a witch here, and he attempted to pick out the offender with an initial look over. He found no-one that stood out, which meant he would have to begin an investigation. The source said this one was also a very powerful witch, and headed the former coven of Bradkirk. Turning away from the other patrons, he focused on his drink. The tavern had nothing to eat, as famine ravaged the Kingdom at the moment, and disease had begun to seep into the Kingdom as well. He had encountered a few infected, poor souls wrecked by coughs and covered in sores and bruises, sho spit up their own blood after every cough. He had been smart enough to keep his distance, and said prayers for the afflicted souls.

[Ithalian Empire]

Mindel was following a trail of blood, a few hours prior he had wounded a small deer. Midel didn't particularly need the meat, he wanted the hid and the bones. These he could sell in town, along with the meat of course, but it was the hid that would make him more coin. Mindel heard thrashing in the underbrush. The blood splatters were getting smaller and smaller as well. His quarry was dieing.

Mindel found the deer, laying in a puddle of blood. The arrow was a quarter of an inch below it heart. Mindel unsheathed his knife and finished to poor beast's life. Mindel took some time to say a prayer of thanks then he went about the messy task of cleaning and skinning his kill. After disposing the entrails and cleaning the hide, Mindel made his way to the nearest town, a place called Harlot Town, Mindel could only imagine how the place got that name. Though he knew he was going to find out soon.

[Glendalia]

Harlot Town

Kevroyce Mehnew introduced herself to a Harlot Town resident doctor, Doctor Blucher, who was about to cut diseased tissue off a man, while the man bit down upon a thick wooden stick and the doctor asked her to assist. They spoke professionally while he worked and the patient occasionally winced and jerked. They were approximately halfway finished when a young boy, possibly ten years old, with dark brown, hair burst through the doctor's door and excitedly shouted, "My Mum! Her new baby's a comin'!"

Under his breath, Dr. Blucher cursed. The he said to Kevroyce, "Midwife Mehnew, would you please follow the young man and assist in the labor? I need to finish this patient's treatment and it will be some time before I can be there."

Kevroyce replied to the doctor in the affirmative and was soon following the young man back to his mother's location. It might have been called a tenement, if one was feeling generous. She reminded herself not to be so judgemental. She went inside and the smell was even worse. Still, she steeled herself and introduced herself to her patient.

Going straight to her work, Kevroyce discovered that the baby's head had not yet positioned itself downward. This would be a breech birth! Still, she knew what to do and positioned her patient to lay on her back with her bottom hanging over the edge of the makeshift bed. Eventually they eased the babe into the world of the living.

The grateful woman instructed her son to fetch something under a floor board. The boy brought back a small book, which the patient took and gave to Kevroyce, saying. "You're very learned and you speak well, so you must know how to read. I can't read, so it's of little use to me. Take this book as a token of my thanks". Then, "And here's some coin for the doctor. I know he wasn't here at the end, but he's been good to us and he sent you."

"Well," said Kevroyce, with a smile, "I am honored by the gift and will give the doctor your regards. And may God bless you and keep you all safe."

She gave the woman some suggestions, washed (or rinsed) the fluids off of her hands, tucked the book in her kit, the doctor's money in her belt and was on her way back to his surgery. Kevroyce didn't mention the book as she handed the money to the doctor. He gave her a quarter of it as her wages on the case.

Doctor Blucher invited her to return tomorrow, to discuss a position or at least some business arrangements. She replied that she'd be back on the 'morrow. As she was leaving, he recommended a place, a tavern, where she might find clean and affordable lodgings. It was called "The Rat and Rooster".

[Sarejo]

Aldwulf consulted the people of the town on the rumors of the witche's whereabouts. Most were either unhelpful or too scared of there being a Witchhunter around to be helpful. Frustrated, he asked a final person, an old man by the name of Caldael, who told him he should go to Harlot Town. Aldwulf recoiled in disgust at the name, as only the scum of Deorc Scadeu dared enter there. However, the old man persisted that if he wished to catch his fugitive, that was where he must go. Aldwulf thanked the man for his time and information, and set out to find the witch in the filthiest settlement in all of Ærworuld.

He mounted his horse and rode off on the rode to Harlot Town, stopping not to eat or sleep, only to drink and to rest his mount, whom was the only friend he had. The horse, though considered by many to be a dumb animal, shared a special connection with its rider. The horse knew where he wanted to go, and with a little encouragement readily complied without the need of a whip or kick. Dilthral, the horse, rode as fast as he could to bring his master to thr destination, as he knew that when Aldwulf was on a hunt, he spent no time milling around and only focused on the hunt, sometimes going days without eating or sleeping until he had caught the witch and beheaded it. They were a day's ride out, and by morn they should arrive in the Town of Whores.

[Beiarusia]

>SNIP<

Ennis Tallow // Harlot Town

It was a grey day. Clouds were hanging heavy overhead, dark and looming, but the threat of rain was beyond them. By dusk the sky would be clear. Not that Ennis minded such a shift. Grey days were and had always been her favorite, but the rain was only to be enjoyed with a roof above one’s head, something that was not guranteed to the traveler, and Ennis was oft traveling.

The girl had arrived in Harlot Town mere hours beforehand and already she was hard on the search for work. A self titled Jack-of-All Trades, there was little that Ennis would not do for coin, within reason of course. Most of her monetary endeavours were of the reputable sort, odd jobs and courier work and the like, but the redheaded girl was not above less notable affairs within justification. Once she had acted as a farmhand, and believing her wage to be unfair had felt obliged to supplement it with some thievery. As it was Harlot Town was a city of thieves and miscreants, and harlots lest their oldest of professions be forgotten. Difficult it would be to find honest work, and more difficult still for dishonest coin.

Not that it much mattered. Ennis was having no such luck, being turned away and, subsequently, invited in. Disgusted, and just a tad bit overwhelmed, the girl turned away would be “employers” and temptingly generous offers, choosing instead to sulk at the corner of the town’s main square.

“I hate it here,” she mumbled to herself, watching those who passed with a growing cynicism. There were no good stories to tell of Harlot Town; Ennis knew as much but only had the coin to go as far.

Watching a beggar stumble from drink Ennis couldn’t help but to catch sight of a woman making her way across the square, not so much prim but proper and well dressed and pushing a little cart. By looks alone one could tell that she was above such rabble as the townsfolk. An outsider.

Ennis was already approaching her. An odd sight, a shoddy vagrant and a proper woman. Ennis smiled, a crooked grin that was charming nonetheless. “Excuse me, miss. Could ya use a hand with ya wares? Only ask fo’ a meal and a roof fo’ the night.”

[Tayner]

The Caravan slowly rolled into town. The lead wagon full of arrows, and the second with minor fire damage. John was solemn as the rain had started coming down. His caravan had been attacked a few miles back, with most of his wares stolen, but lucky his stash, an iron safe in the third cart, was untouched. It was full of all sorts of currencies. Most, if not every, town had some form of currency. Some used paper, others used iron coins, but it didn't matter. The different currencies were accepted everywhere. There wasn't a set extange rate, but a gold bar would go much further than a dozen copper coins.

The waves could be heard crashing against the beach that wasn't that far away. John hadn't seen his home town in a while, and not everyone here was fond of him, but he insisted the men sleep in the inn tonight instead of setting up a camp outside town limits like usual. He sent two wounded to Doctor Blucher and warned the rest to spend their pay at their own risk. The Fair Seas inn was their home for tonight and maybe even tomorrow, but right now, it was a place where John had a 10% discount for being an old family friend of the owners.

He informed his right hand man, Adam, to sell the damaged wagons to any buyers, and the horses to the stable owner. It wasn't the first thing that came to mind, but selling off his assets was more profitable then repairing them. He had recently learned of a new way of trade, that was much faster and more profitable. Water. A nice long boat would set John back a pretty penny, but it would be worth the expenses. The remainder of his men, sat at the bar of the inn, and drank some sort of apple ale and told stories of their life before they met each other. Some of the facts were surely stretched, but who would actually check for the absolute truth?

He went outside, to their only wagon left, where a man was sitting on the back, selling of the wares of the caravan. The little supplies left from the two damaged wagons were loaded onto the good one, so they could salvage at least some form of profit from the trip. John walked over to the back of the wagon and asked the man.

"How the selling?"

"Good." He said, just completing a transaction, handing over two iron ingots in exchange for 25 gold coins. Harlet Town's local currency was gold coins, but all sorts of money were accepted here. The Harlet Gold coin had an H engraved on one side, and a random image on the other side. One would have two crossed swords, another would have a lady engraved in it. Each individual coin was different from one another, and that's how Harlet Town's currency is unique from the seas of other forms and fashions of money.

"What's our profit?"

"Well, I got about a hundred gold coins, some paper money from Oxford, some copper coins, and and even an emerald." He said, showing John the coin purse where they held the money they received before they put it in the stash.

"Good. Let me see the coin purse." He said, and the man closed it and handed it to him. He stepped inside the wagon, closed the flaps in the back, separating him and the safe from prying eyes. He opened it with the key he kept around his neck, and placed the profits inside. Inside the iron safe was a small fortune, John had been saving for years. He decided that sooner or later, he would buy a long boat, but a good one was costly. Soon, one of the guard dogs jumped inside the wagon, and wagged it's tail at John. He closed the safe, and petted the dog. He rummaged through the supplies and pulled out a little bit of deer jerky to feed the dog. The dogs, along with one man, would guard the wagon tonight incase any of the townspeople got sticky fingers.

[Lormandy]

Æsc:The Burnt Village of Piddleton

I'm not going to stand here! I need to know who did this. Æsc started feeling a pain on his chest, so he did what a reasonable person would probably do if it felt like he had cuts on his chest. Look Alright, i've got a scar. Maybe it's a taunt on what i've done to his people. Well maybe I will walk west towards the open lands and find someone to read it for me, since of course all I can read is my own name. Æsc looks around for the red painted rock he had placed for a signal for west, he found it and walked down the path to the west to maybe find someone who can tell him what the writing means. If it's writing that is. But he will travel that way.

On the Eastern Road

Turns out, Æsc went the wrong way, his enemy Ail must've known his tactics as if he were him. Then he sees an oak tree and stops Wait, this is no ash! It's an oak! Oh my, I believe i've walked out far east, where i've seen witches and weird warriors wearing weird metal on their heads and such. I should draw my sword. I believe these witches have a way of getting to the west. Let's just hope I don't mess this up. before he knew what was going on a paper flies under his foot, and he puts it into the ground on accident. A Man comes running up with hands out stretched, then he stopped and looked at Æsc's foot. The crazy man wearing scale armor with a weird and unknown hat looks at him and starts speaking. Surprisingly enough it's the same language. "Can you please step off of the paper." Æsc moves his foot backwards and looks at the man. The man goes and picks it up then realized that it is ripped from Æsc's boots. The man faces towards him, and suddenly draws his sword.

The sword he draws is curved in a away Æsc has never seen. The man swings the sword which cuts off Æsc's left thumb. Æsc yelps in pain and bounces back then advances forward and swings his sword at the man, which he deflects with such speed and power which is surprising. Æsc pulls his shield with an awkward movement. Now the fight is going to be easier. They swing swords and stab at each other which Æsc either blocks or dodges. When finally the sword stabs through the shield and is stuck. Æsc then takes his sword and cuts the mans chest, then swings another time, then another time, and after that he thrusts the sword into the man's stomach and kicks the body off the sword. The man's body falls hard unto the floor. "I've done a bad thing." Æsc sees a little pocket on the man and when he puts his hand in it he finds two coins. They have an eagle on them, and a head with weird hair. Æsc just picked up two clues. He noticed something weird about one of the coins. It has writing. Though he won't know what it says, until he meets a very interesting man. But for now, Æsc just needs to get out of the Eastern Road, and needs to get on the Western Road. So he turned around and just ran.

[Ithalian Empire]

The rain clouds were forming when Mindle made it to Horlot Town. It was bigger than any town he had been in for many a long moon. The deer was strapped over his shoulder and the hid was wrapped up tightly. His bow was unstrung and inits oil skin lest it get wet. Mindel knew this town only by its reputation, the largest den of vipers and thieves that has ever been on the earth. Mindel supposed it was because of its proximity to the sea, sailors tended to be attracted to these kind of places after all.

Mindel entered the town main square, brothels and shady shops lined up around it. A building proclaiming it to be a butcher's shop caught Mindel eye. As he made his way to the shop a strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Where yer goin' wit dat thar vittles ladie?" said the man who stopped him, Mindel could see he was around thirty years of age, his teeth were stained with chew tobacco."Just gives me them thar vittles an' yar can git goin' on yer way"

"And if I don't?" asked Mindel, fairly certain what this cretion had in mind.

"Then yar get a taste o' me knife" He said, drawing a rather nasty looking knife. Mindles right hand went to his own blade in its sheath.

The chew tobaco man was the first to make his move, lunging at Mindle, his eyes filled with bloody murder. Mindel grabed his attackers right wrist with his left hand and at the same time drew his blade. Mindel twisted the man's wrist sharply at a right angle, breaking it. He than brought the promel of his weapon crashing down on to of his head. Mindels attacker went limb. Mindel thought about leaving him there, but his sense of honor wouldn't allow it. Mindel looked around, seeing a building that called itself a doctor's office.

Mindel collected the unconscious man's body and began to drag it to the healers hows. Maybe the man who ran it still remembered to fix broken bones after years of birthing illegitimate children.

[Vacif]

Oswyn Vasey
Matlock

Oswyn had finished teaching his underlings how to operate, and handle the mechanisms inside the forge. He was going to be going away but he couldn't leave the forge in inexperienced hands. For how long he would travel he did not know, but when he would come back, he'd prefer his forge be intact. This was three days ago. All his belongings were packed, and now his friends, and family were at the gates to bid him farewell. It was dangerous to travel alone, so he'd tag along with a caravan headed for the coast town of Harlot town. He adjusted the straps on his satchel, and made sure the latches on his goods were secured. With the sound of snapping reigns, the caravan started their journey. Oswyn smiled as he started his journey to new lands. He'd never ventured farther than the mines, and the river.

[Lormandy]

Æsc:Old Friends, New Enemies

Æsc had finally found someone on his way on the western road. A young man going on his way to learn from the Master of combat and Guerrilla Warfare. Æsc looked at the young man and then cleared his throat "I'm sorry, but he is long gone, just like the whole village of Piddleton." Æsc notices the necklace which probably means he's nobility, especially with his rich looking clothes. He probably can read the words on my chest. So Æsc thought about what he'd say in a split second. "Do you know how to read?" the young man looked at him "No, I cannot." Æsc chuckled "You're either a thief or a liar." the young man stepped back one "Alright then I do know how to read, why?' Æsc opened up the view of the words. The young man looked at it for a little bit "That looks like the handwriting of my friend, the Town Captain who trains the soldiers, Ail." Æsc looked at the young man "Alright, since you're seeking training, i'll train you. After I kill my old friend Ail of course." Æsc then walked forward "Lead me to Ail and i'll go kill him with my sword." the young man jogged slightly ahead of Æsc. Then trying to keep his eye on Æsc of course, for all this young man, or better said Eadwine. Eadwine looked at Æsc "My name is Eadwine by the way, I am just going to assume you know my father. The Owner of Monmouth Castle." Eadwine then awkwardly kept walking without an answer from Æsc seeming not to care, his mind is far too clouded with hatred for his old friend Ail.

[New Grestin]

The Outerlands | 536 A.C

Snow fell lightly on the ground between them, a cool breeze brushing along the white earth. The two stood, a few paces apart. The man, clad in the fur of a bear and brandishing a long sword, breathed heavily. Blood flowed from the cuts across his body, from the stump where his right hand used to be. Only adrenaline fueled him now. It was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. He brought the sword up, leveling at her before taking a long breath. Then, with the grace of a dying animal, he sprinted at the woman. She merely stood there, wearing little more than a hooded coat, a small sword in hand. As he ran, he swung his towards her, only to miss by almost a foot.

She ducked down and pounced into him, knocking him to the ground. The man's sword flew off to the side, landing in the cool earth as the woman pinned him to the ground. Then, he barely had a moment to scream before she plunged the blade into his head. A loud, sickening crunch permeated the air, echoing for a moment then falling silent. She laid atop him for a moment. The man's gurgled breathing finally ceased. With little ceremony, she rose. She reached out a gloved hand, gripped the blade, and-

It was stuck.

She sighed, pushing her hood off. "Come on," she spoke, planting her boot against the man's head. Once more, with gusto, she yanked on the blade. It would not yield. The woman yelled out in anger, seemingly at nothing, then grabbed the hilt of the sword and wedged it around. The man's skull crunched and popped, but the sword remained stuck.

"For fuck's sake!"

Lilith kicked the dead man's head, only for he sword to snap, shattering the blade in two. The pieces glittered in the sun as she stepped up to them. Her blood boiled. She kicked the man once more, then started to comb over his things. It was fairly standard witch-hunting fare. A knife, some kind of smoke-bomb, even a few vegetables. Everything else was worthless mementos. Pocketing the rest, she mused over the knife for a moment. It was quite old and quite large, slightly larger than her own hand. She figured it was probably for skinning deer. With an air of frustration, she stepped into the trees and gathered her pack.

Another name could be marked off the list. A list she was getting quite close to finishing. With any luck, the Inquisitor would be pleased. Good, she thought. She'd need that if she was going to worm her way up the ranks. Lilith snatched the paper from her pocket and looked down the list.

Alan Karkadian
Derek Mann
Charles Joffress
Jennifer MacDaniel
Sanjay Hargrave
Aldwulf Huntsman

Half a dozen witch-hunters and one remained. Most had barely put up a fight, save for the corpse that had begun rotting behind her. She'd even caught a few completely off guard. Drowned in a tub, poisoned drinks, she'd even found one with a prostitute. Post-coitus stabbing was the best kind of stabbing, at least in her experience. Fixing her hair, Lilith let out a deep sigh and started heading through the forest. There were a few towns outside the Outerlands, but the nearest one was "Harlot Town". The name was both amusing and indicative of it's quality of life. It was a grimy, dingy little hole with little to offer than whores and wine. Even still, she figured, it was a decent place to start.

As she walked, she looked over the blasted landscape. The Outerlands were a lawless place, one of the many between the towns and kingdoms. If one wasn't killed by the feral animals, then the cold would certainly do one in. It was a long way from the comforts of the Commonwealth. Turning her attentions to the sky, she found the sun was directly overhead.

With any luck, she'd get there before nightfall.

[Glendalia]

>SNIP<

Kevroyce stopped in her tracks, hands firmly upon her push cart, and with her right eyebrow rising slightly, gave the bold urchin before her a hard and appraising look. The girl she spied appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years old, at most. There was some dirt on her, but the midwife reckoned that she'd clean up nicely. But there was something amiss about the young girl that Kevroyce could not quite put her finger on....

"Ach, me first day in town," replied Kevroyce, "an' the locals are tryin' ta part me from me hard earned wages." The she smiled and continued, "I've been pushing me cart by me lonesone for some time an' I've the strength to prove it, me little lass. Nay, I don't need that kind of help. On the other hand, I do have a long term position open for an apprentice. Someone to fetch for me, to pay attention an' learn from me, to assist me an' not worry about gettin' her different kinds of 'goop' on her person. An' I can be a very demanding person, because the consequences of mistakes are costly. The wages are thus, I will share me lodgings an' meals with you, I'll keep you in decent clothing, an' every once in a while I'll get you some coin of your own to spend as you like. It will be good, honest work an' when the apprenticeship is over you'll be having skills with which to earn good wages."

Kevroyce kept her eyes locked with those of the raggle taggle girl and wondered if the girl had it in her to soldier through the learning and the tasks necessary.

[Sarejo]

Aldwulf entered into Harlot Town, in what was obviously the poor district. Mud filled the streets, instead of dry dirt, and the huts common in all towns were makeshift and shoddy. Women in revealing clothing stood on the sides of the street, dancing suggestively to entice a man or two to enjoy her services. As a sanctioned man of the Church, he looked down on thd immorality of it, but he knew very well that more than a few of his fellow Hunters enjoyed the forbidden pleasure of an experienced woman. Passing through, he found the actual town, which was not much better, seeing as the world was a hell hole all around, but respectable for how much life was terrible in this God-forsaken world.

He prepared to round a corner, and all of the sudden the stench hit him. He turned the corner and was greeted by a horrific sight. Bodies lined the streets in piles, whilst the dying lay helplessly gasping for breath and coughing up so much blood it was a wonder they hadn't passed on yet. A priest in a mask walked down the street, administering Last Rites to those who either were faithful or too weak to protest. Not very many protested anyways, as even in a town such as this, God held some power and esteem, even if the Church herself was not a prominent force. He kept moving, with his winter bandana tied tightly over his face while he made the Sign of the Cross as he passed the afflicted.

He finally made it to the tavern the old man had described to him, with a Hog's head on the sign. Aldwulf dismounted and tied up Dilthral, and entered the 'establishment' if it deserved such glory. He went up to the bartender. (Translated from common tongue)

"Have you seen or heard of any witches near here?" Aldwulf asked.

"No, and even if I had, I wouldn't fucking tell you. Church has no power here, and by extension neither do you hunter. So either shut the fuck up and order a drink or get out of my tavern." the bartender reported with contempt.

"Fine then, have it your way." Aldwulf said, and acted to turn away. Instead of completing the motion, however, he grabbed the bartender and dragged him over the counter, throwing him to the floor and straddling his chest.

"Now listen here you ignorant bastard-child, I know you know where a witch is, and I know you're going to tell me, otherwise you'll never tell a soul anything again, you understand?" Aldwulf said, drawing a rather large skinning knife and brandishing it rather close to the bartender's mouth. The bartender nodded in acknowledgement.

"Alright, I know of a witch here. He goes by the name Aldren, and he's a mean bastard. Pays for his drinks, but he kills anyone who doesn't leave him alone with fire. Fire, lad." the bartender told the hunter.

"Thank you, and where is this Aldren?" Aldwulf asked.

"Somewhere in the Whore's district. I don't know where, but you'll have better luck asking the girl's over there. He's tall, dark haired, carries himself like he owns the whole bloody kingdom, and limps a bit." the bartender said.

"Thank you, now was that so hard?" Adlwulf asked as he resheathed the knofe and brought the bartender to his feet. He then turned and left the tavern without a word and began his search of the Den of Thieves.

[Beiarusia]

>SNIP<

Ennis Tallow // Main Square, Harlot Town

This was… unexpected.

Ennis had anticipated either a quick coin to be made or a sharp rebuke. Instead she had been offered an apprenticeship. Promises of hard work and of longer hours but with food and shelter and knowledge as payment. The latter benefit was the most enticing to a curious mind. Alternatively the need to scavenge for whatever coin needed to survive would be made a mute point, and life could potentially be easier than it thus far had been.

The girl shifted unconsciously, the thick bundles masking the movement to some degree.

A golden opportunity but not one without risk. Ennis had for so long been a drifter, the lifestyle playing well with her avoidance of certain topics pertaining to her past and to current situations.

And of her arm, metal and clockwork, a gift from the family but one that would quickly see her hanged by the neck until dead if she be so lucky. Should this woman – or anyone else for the matter – discover this secret it would spell the end of her. To discard the stigmatic mark would be to free herself of the burden, of the fear of uninvited doom, but the loss of the same limb twice in one lifetime would be too much to bear. Removing herself from close society had proven beneficial thus far. To change now could well bring misfortune. But the chance to live comfortably was too much to ignore.

“I be a hard worker and one that does not fright at dirt or whatever else ya have mind. Thank ya fo’ such a chance.” Ennis held out her left arm, flesh and blood, to properly introduce herself. “Ennis Tallow.”

[Ithalian Empire]

Mindel burst into the office of Doctor Blucher, the unconscious man still draped of his shoulder. The good doctor was not busy, save for staring at Mindel in surprise. Mindel was lightly amused by his sunrise.

"I broke his wrist, hit over the head with the propel of my short sword and am bringing him here to see you." Mindel said, doctor Blucher just stared at the woodsman. Something inside the doctor snapped and he came out of his trance.

"Um, just bring him into the surgery room"replied the doctor, sounding unsure of himself.

Mindel did as he was told and left the doctors office. Finally Mindel made it into the the butchers shop. The man who ran it paid Mindel three gold for the deer meat and another five for the hid. Mindel than made his way back out into the town center, a few drops of rain fell from the sky, splattering on the hard packed dirt. Mindel made his way to on of the Inn's, the one with the least amount of whores hanging around it he could find. Mindel did not bother to look at the name, he just paid for a room. No one wants to sleep outside in the rain.

[Vacif]

The excursion had made good distance to their destination. They were roughly halfway there by the time it was sundown. The hoarses required rest, and the men were eager to get out of the wagons, so they'd decided to set up camp on a ridge near the road. Their position had a fair view of the surrounding area, and it's position elevated. A pond of fresh water was near as well. All the more reason to set up camp there. The wagons formed a semicircle facing the "path" to the camp. Tents were set up around it, and a nice sized firepit was in the middle. The Matlock natives were gathered around it chatting, or stretching their legs. Several men at arms watched over the camp dutifully while a small detachment in reserve hid away either down the hill in the bush, or up it armed with more ranged weapons.

[Glendalia]

>SNIP<

Harlot Town, the town square

"Very well, Apprentice Tallow," the older woman replied, taking the outstretched left hand in her own and dropping the affectation of an accent. "My name is Kevroyce Mehnew, but you are to address me in public as 'Mistress Mehnew' or 'Mistress'. In private, you may also call me 'Mistress Kevroyce'. I will call you, 'Apprentice Tallow', or 'Apprentice' and perhaps 'Ennis', if I feel the need. That's the kind of relationship that we'll be having."

Kevroyce had clasped Ennis' hand firmly, not trying to crush it but letting the young woman know that her hand was firm. She was pleased that her new apprentice mirrored her grip and looked her in the eyes while doing it. Whatever else the girl might bring with her, she had some judgement and character.

Releasing her apprentice's hand she said, "Lesson one, cart pushing. There are things in the cart that are fragile and hard to replace, so move it like you would a cart with a baby in it." Kevroyce stepped back to let Ennis take charge of the cart and so the girl did.

"Good," said Kevroyce as the beginning of a rain began in the town square. "Now, apprentice, let's make our way to our inn, 'The Rat & Rooster', have a bit to eat and rest ourselves for tomorrow. We'll see about what you already know and get you some good clothes then."

[Beiarusia]

>SNIP<

Ennis Tallow // The Rat & Rooster, Harlot Town

The formality to be demanded of the girl would no doubt be tiresome, what with proper titles having already been assigned, but Ennis, candid in character, was in no position to protest such a grievance. Good fortune had smiled upon her and it was hers alone to seize should she bear the peculiarities asked of Mistress Mehnew. Not that there were many. Ennis simply was not of a rigid nature.

Their greeting done and over with Ennis was summarily given her very first lesson. Instructed to act with the utmost caution – lest she break something of value – the girl took hold of the little cart and followed after her new mistress.

‘The Rat & Rooster’ was a simple place of rest, though in Harlot Town it was, perhaps, the most extraordinary of places, free of the taint so common in the seaside town. Clean and well maintained, the little inn held all sorts of travelers, from rugged adventurers to seedy merchants to sailors and ordinary folk. The innkeeper was a greying man, jovial but with the look of someone accustomed to harsh physical labor. He greeted us upon our entering, and after speaking a moment with Mistress Mehnew led the pair to where we would be the staying the night: a cozy room that was neither extravagant nor underwhelming. A single bed but with a small sofa that Ennis assumed would be her own. Dispensing of the cart they headed for the kitchen to dine.

Dinner was a thick stew of questionable meat that was delicious nonetheless. Ennis, having not yet eaten for the day, nor much the day before, was eager to fill herself, caring little for proper etiquette. A sharp contrast to the mistress.

The meal was punctuated with various questions directed at the girl.

“I can read. Know me numbers too,” Ennis stated in-between bites. “I know a lot of things. Like… uh, stuff.”

Ennis, uncomfortable, broke from her statement. Knowledge was something she cherished, but others were less kind of the matter. A simple slip of the tongue could be all that was needed to lay accusation.

The mistress pressed further. Ennis felt obliged to answer.

“I… uh, me family taught me.”

The mistress seemed well educated, mayhaps more so than anyone Ennis had yet to meet, and behind her strict exterior the woman seemed genuinely kind at heart. Maybe a risk could be taken. A prod that could potentially lift a great weight from the girl’s shoulders. As it was she would be living with Mistress Mehnew from now on. If she was different, could be trusted, then maybe Ennis wouldn’t have to be alone, wandering from place to place with little guidance. At the very least she could have someone to talk to.

There was only one way to find out.

“Actually, I have a question… uh, Mistress.” The word felt odd on her tongue. “Me mum, she was accused of being a witch. I… I want to know ya feelings on such things. It means something dreadful to me.”

[Glendalia]

>SNIP<

The Rat & Rooster, Harlot Town

Upon hearing the request for her opinion on witchcraft, Kevroyce briefly shuddered and then reasserted her control. Ennis was clearly distressed on the matter and Kevroyce truly wanted to comfort the girl, but they were in a public place and one could never be certain who might be within earshot and be sympathetic to the witch hunters and their cause.

"I think," Kevroyce leaned forward and replied in a soft, hushed tone, "that the dining room of a public inn is not the place to be having such a conversation. That answer will have to be enough for now. More can be said, later and in private. Midwives and clever people have a long and sad history running afoul of 'certain' people, apprentice."

[New Grestin]

Harlot Town | 536 A.C

The entire town smelled, felt, and probably tasted foul. Lilith sighed, looking over the dilapidated buildings and the haggard masses. A caravan had pulled into town, along with a few people and some dogs. Without paying much mind, Lilith moved on to what she figured would be the best place to start. A tavern. Alcohol was a fairly reliable way to force information from others. She threw her hood down and started off towards the building.

The room was warm, inviting, and yet had a sense of cold unease about it. It was quite garish, decorated with relics of the Old World. Ancient statues and newer paintings. The head of a Great Boar sat mounted on a another wall. It's dead eyes stared forward; both at everything and nothing. She'd always found them unsettling. The Inquisitor wore his royal garb; a layer of woven fabrics with accents of fur. Lilith, on the other hand, sat draped in a long gray dress. Her dull brown hair was tied off into a ponytail. It had been some time since she'd bothered to cut it down. Even if it had a habit of distracting men, it was more of a hazard then it was worth. The pair sat at opposite ends, her at the head, him at the other. Between them was a table and two glasses, both filled with a near ancient wine. The man, the Inquisitor, took a long sip and spoke.

"I'm sure Catherine informed you of the discovery."

She nodded. The Inquisitor leaned in, threading his hands together. It was a tell that she knew. He was nervous.

"Then I'm sure that you know that the Witch-Hunters are going to be very interested in what they found. We can't have that."

He pushed himself off the table, taking on an air of the dramatic. Lilith desperately wanted to roll her eyes, but it wasn't the time to throw away the good will she'd earned.

"The Library is the first real chance we have to take power. The Witch-hunters, the heretics, they'd burn it to the ground before they'd let us even get inside."

He paused for what seemed like an eternity.

"That's why I want you to kill as many of them down as you can. We need to keep them distracted long enough to get inside. Not to mention that it'll encourage the others to keep their head down if 'The Silent One' is hunting."

Then, the Inquisitor smiled, reaching into his pocket and tossing her a list.

Lilith had just entered the building when two men flew past her, beating on each other with anything they could find. She sighed and moved past them, turning her attentions to the bar, she eased up to the wooden structure. Behind the bar was a rather shaken looking man, constantly wiping the same glass with shaking hands. Lilith smiled.

"What, uh, what can I do ya for, miss?"

Trying her best to keep the man calm, she leaned in closer.

"I'm looking for someone. Someone from the church. Think you can help me with that?"

The man sighed and mirrored her, leaning in.

"You talkin' about that asshole that was just in here?"

"Witch-hunter?"

"Yep."

Her smile grew. The man's unease seemed to waver as he set the glass down.

"And who the hell are you, anyway?"

The smile grew ever larger and she leaned in closer, resting her head in her hands. In a mocking, strangely flirtatious whisper, she spoke.

"I'm nobody. Now, where is he?"

[Beiarusia]

>SNIP<

Ennis Tallow // The Rat & Rooster, Harlot Town

The mistress was right. While Ennis saw no harm in discussing such a topic others may well misconstrue their words. Not everyone acted rationally when faced with what they did not understand. There was a fear, and that fear could lead to baseless accusations.

Ennis nodded and continued eating. She had since slowed her ravenous pace.

Not much longer passed before the two were down with their meal. Thanking the cook – the innkeeper’s wife – the mistress led the way back to their room, allowing Ennis to duck inside before closing the door behind herself. The girl fell onto the sofa, likely her bed for the evening, and removed the worn satchel hanging limply from her shoulders. She studied it for a moment before stashing it safely underneath the furniture less its contents become known. Ennis next removed her overcoat, a ratty thing that had seen better days, and draped it over the sofa’s arm. Another jacket was underneath, keeping her covered.

Living in close proximity to the mistress would be difficult if Ennis wished to maintain her secret. Should she be discovered likely she would need to flee, but the mistress’ words in the kitchen gave the girl some hope that not everyone in this world was as barbaric as the next, but relying on luck would get her nowhere.

But one never knew.

[Sarejo]

Aldwulf trotted on Dilthral down the streets of the Whore's district, pausing to ask a prostitute once in a while if they'd heard of Aldren, but as of yet he'd had no luck. Finally he reached the end of the street, with no more information than he'd previously had. He sighed in frustration and decided to find an in, as it was dark and a torch here and there on the street only does so much to discourage banditry, especially in a town like this.

Aldwulf reached the inn, and bought a room and a stable gor Dilthral. After making sure that Dilthral was taken vare of, he went up to his room and settled in. After he'd undressed, he sat in the old chair in his room and let his mind wander. The most prevalent thought on his mind besides the Hunt he was on was the Hunt he knew he was the prey of. The Order, blasphemous bunch of whores they were, wanted power and nothing else. They wanted to rule this wasteland, for reasons unknown to him, but he assumed they were not benevolent by the way they attempted to gain it. Assassins, blackmailers, bribes, whatever dirty tricks you could think of, they'd done it. Now they knew of the Library, a place rumored to contain knowledge and weapons from a time long ago, supposedly from a race that created us. The Church knew of the dangers of such place, and knew it must be destroyed at all costs, lest it fall into the hands of the Order. Aldwulf knew that he was being hunted know, because of the Church's knowledge of the place, and he was one of the last remaining Hunters in this area of Ærworuld, if not the last one, and more Hunters could not be spared from other areas of the region. He had to find this place and destroy it at all costs, even of it cost him his life.

[Glendalia]

>SNIP<

Kevroyce Mehnew // The Rat & Rooster, Harlot Town

Kevroyce was thankful that her new apprentice, truth be told she'd never had an apprentice before this one, had not pressed her more on witchery in the dining room. She recalled when she'd been so headstrong and persistant in her questions to her father, and so she handled the girl the same way her father had treated her. With a warning and an enticement to wait a bit.

Sitting on the bed, she sighed and removed the woolen cap from her head and shook her head, vigorously, freeing her hair to fall about and lay below her shoulders. She looked at the girl, Ennis, on the sofa and addressed her, saying, "Ennis, I am sore and sorry that your mother was accused of being a witch. It's a terrible thing and my family, because of our knowledge and skills, ever had to be on guard against doing things that would bring suspicion upon us. The Church isn't prominent in Harlot Town, but wherever else we went, one of the first things we'd do was to go to the local priest and ask for his blessing in our work as healers. Some were impressed and let that settle the matter while others kept an eye after us."

The girl was clearly paying attention, so Kevroyce continued. "My mother and father, when I was very young, would tell me tales that they said were passed down from their parents and grandparents and ancestors for generations. Tales of marvelous cities, carriages that could be driven without horses, medicines much more powerful than any I know how to concoct, and great fiery ships that took people to the moon and brought them home when they'd seen what they'd gone to see. But they also told me of terrible weapons: wands that spat sling bullets capable of tearing up a person's insides, powders nearly invisible that would float in the air making blisters on any open skin and in the throat that could make one drown on dry land, and a weapon that could raze a city in the snap of fingers and leave nothing behind but a plane of glass and death for those that visited or stayed there too long."

"So here's what I think about the witches of our times. They are people. Humans like you and me and every other human. But they know things or have artifacts or tools that very few people living today can understand. The thing that makes them different and either divine or diabolical is whether or not they listen to angels or devils whispering in their ears."

Then, the mistress said, "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's another day. We'll get you some better clothes and see if Doctor Blucher has any work for us." The room was pleasant for now, but Kevroyce suspected it might get colder, so she added, "if you get cold in the night, you may sleep in the bed with me and we can share each other's warmth. I have some things to straighten out before sleeping and you're not familiar enough with my ways to do it for me."

Kevroyce turned down and extinguished almost all of the rooms oil lamps, except the one at the little desk, near the bed. She then went about reorganizing her kit from the days work. When that was done, she opened up the small book that her patient of today had gifted her. She briefly scanned the pages and her eyes grew wide with astonishment. Kevroyce whispered in amazement, "Nonnatus, Raphael and Christ Jesus!"