In Love and War...

[Urei]

Infinity crawled helplessly on her hands and knees, dragging her skirt of dreams behind her as a Devil stared deep into a glass of ale. Its contents swirled, a sickly yellow vortex as the demon's soft pallid hand held it before him. His nose ran along its edge, breathing deeply to take in its awful scent. Horridly it stank, but the smell overpowered the aroma of sweet ambrosia running powerfully through the heart strings of humans on all sides. Slowly an ache had churned in his throat as Leir sat at a bar stool in some lack-luster tavern on the edge of nowhere. Aimless wandering had taken his feet to this village's cobblestones at the first breath of night, now many hours later the itching in his chest had grown nearly to intolerable levels. He resisted, because none here had the odor of a feast worth fighting for. Several bestial species were also among the cattle here, and those he had no interest in nor fear of, individually. A half-ogre, an ugly beast of a man, tended the bar and kept a frequent check on the demon. It was the barkeep's nose for danger that had kept him alive his long fifty years, and Leir rank of danger. If it were to come down to it, he would run and leave the other creatures here to deal with the stranger.

Suddenly the door opened into the night and a fresh, vivid scent wafted across Leir's nose. Instantly the ache exploded into an uncontrollable pyre in his chest. It boiled up his throat and out his mouth, leaving his lips a shaking gasp. Swinging his head around to stare at the threshold his eyes fell upon a gorgeous human female wearing a long white dress. Mana seemed to pour from every vein of her being, but it was the perfume of her perfect, unspoiled and powerful blood that made him sway. The barkeep's nostrils flared, and his eyes widened, but his feeling came a moment too late to warn anyone. The demon burst forth from his chair, a blur of motion. The hearts in the room beat, for three seconds, in unison. One beat, his hands were on her. Two beat, her neck exploded crimson. Three beat, she lay dead in his grasp, tipped over under him as if he were kissing a lover.

Seconds passed in silence as the patrons watched him gulp her ruby life up eagerly, nobody sure of exactly what just happened. Finally reality hit someone, and a blood-curdling scream burst from their throat. It was shortly followed by a myriad chorus of fear and astonishment. Those who thought themselves brave and chivalrous drew weapons and two such men ran for the demon. They rushed in scared and on impulse, wanting to take the demon off guard. The devil acted without even lifting his lips from her neck. Long bone limbs burst from his back, their sharp ends piercing the chests of the unsuspecting fools. Blood ran down their chests and out mouths twisted into horrible surprise. Weapons and bodies crumbled to the wood floor, and the commotion and fear grew. Yet devil stood before the door, blocking any hope of escape. Finally he finished, letting the damsel fall gracelessly. Fire still burned inside him, eating up his insides and pushing him forward. With a guttural roar, Leir began his slaughter. The demon dined happy in their hell tonight.

The screams rolled out into the dark, spreading the plague of panic through the village. Many fled, having no ties to this place and knowing monsters were more frequent to Althanas than heroes. Others stayed and boarded up their windows and doors, hiding in corners and basements shivering with their family. Yet, for all of those it scared away, one couple drew ever closer.

[Koran]

The room stank, week old sweat mixed with dried blood and stale ale. Even the occasional whiff of cook meat, wafting from the swinging door leading to the kitchen did little to dampen the stench. The Shadow Meld curled his lips back in disgust, his glazed gray eyes staring murder at anyone brave enough to draw close to his person. A backwater bar, in a backwater town, in the middle of this god forsaken countryside, smack in the center of the cursed planet. His lips drew back into a full fledged snarl and he tipped his still half full mug of ale back and down it in one fell gulp. Slamming the pewter container down onto the hard wood counter top he raised his hand and his voice.

"Barkeep!" He roared, slurring the word only slightly. "Gimme another round of this god forsaken crap, and a chaser of whiskey, double shot." He paused for a fraction of a second. "And be quick about it dammit! I ain't got all night." The last was a series of mumbles, some of which even he didn't understand.

The barkeep, a middle aged man with a balding head and a constant sweat to him, jumped at the sound of the Shadow Meld's voice and quickly masked his obvious fear of the man by quickly setting about gathering the requested liquid beverages. He slide the double shot of whiskey in front of the tall silver haired man first and before it had stopped moving, had a new pewter mug in front of him as well. He then backed away a few steps, furiously cleaning a mug that had been clean for hours, his eyes flickering left and right, body quivering with fear, rage and anxiety all ball into one. The Shadow Meld only sneered and then tipped the mug back, swallowing its contents in three long gulps. He slammed that one back down onto the counter top too, shoving it hard in the direction of the barkeep and picked up the double-shot, sniffing it once before tipping it back as well. He exhaled nosily and set the small glass down onto the counter top, more gently than he had the mug, but still quite hard. He raised his hand to signal the barkeep again when a scream pierced the night, cutting all noise in the room off like a hot knife through warm butter.

The noise took a moment to breach the Shadow Melds hazy thoughts and he turned slowly to stare at the door leading out into the main street, blinking dumbly. A moment later another scream tore the night, followed almost immediately by the bellows and yells of men, terrified for their lives and obviously running. "What the fuck?" The Shadow Meld mumbled pushing himself to his feet, he only wobbled slightly, and opened the door to the street. He jerked back suddenly, just barely avoiding being run over by a panicked man making a beeline for anywhere but up the street, and growled a series of curses before making his way shakily into the street.

He spun around three whole times, his vision blurring and his backside almost finding its way to the hard packed dirt beneath him, but he was eventually able to find the source of all the screaming. It was a dingy looking place near the outskirts of the small town, all rotten boards and sagging walls, the glass from the front window laying in the street looking to have been broken from the inside. Probably from the screaming idiots attempts to get out of the place. The Shadow Meld continued mumbling curses and stumbled a weaving path up the street toward the still scream filled building.

He reached the still open door a moment later, the harsh yellow light from the lamps within spilling out into the street, elongating his shadow and cause it to flicker slightly. It took him a moment to see clearly what was on the inside and in an instant, well an instant for a man who'd practically drunk his own weight in ale and hard liquor, he had one of his two swords drawn and held in front of him. It only wobbled slightly as he stepped through the light and into the building.

The inside was a wreck, tables and chairs, most shattered beyond repair, littered the floor along with at least half a dozen bodies, their necks all appearing to have been ripped open. Blood lay in small pools throughout the room, some even appeared to be splattered on the walls and ceiling, dripping or oozing to the floor to create more puddles. In all, the room was the scene of a slaughter. A very brutal slaughter.

The Shadow Meld burped and stumbled over the body of a dead woman, her white dress stained red with blood, and heard a sickly squelch noise from in front of him. He looked, his face twisted in confusion and saw himself staring into the already glazing eyes of a man who had inadvertently run himself through on the tip of his sword when he had stumbled forward. The Shadow Meld grunted and with a hard shove against the dead mans chest, sent the lifeless body toppling backwards, pulling itself free of his blade as it fell.

"Idiot, deserved to die anyway." A loud crash erupted from a still swinging door to his left, the kitchen it seemed, and the Shadow Meld wove his way toward it. If there was anything still left alive in this place, it might be in there. He pushed the door open with the tip of his sword, not sure what to expect, but fully aware that it might not be something he'd get along with.

[Urei]

Man and wife, lovers in the most true sense, Jakob and Merisa were travelers. They donned the simple garb of people who did not believe in extravagant wealth, but still understood the subtleties of style. Feet well worn down from a lifetime of striding along roads, sidewalks, railways, trails. Hands that were callused and strengthened by daily labor, and minds that were set in their ways of virtue, honor, and exploration. Never had they stolen, even when luck failed to shine. Never had they murdered, even when threatened by highwaymen of the cruelest regard. Nigh death, they would fight and survive, for they were travelers. With only the strength of their feet and the cunning of their mind to carry them onward, Jakob and Merisa were satisfied with life.

However, they were not ordinary travelers. Just as every sinner has a future, each saint has a past. Jakob often remembered his younger days, as his deviant ways had lead him to join a infamous bandit brotherhood and learn swordsmanship from a master. His blade craft was sharpened to the finest edge, few able to stand up to him in an even fight. Many times he had pillaged and murdered, and now he traveled to atone for the sins of his youth. Walking the winding paths with Merisa, a witch and sorceress of the highest caliber. Many had died when she sought wealth and power and used her natural gift to carve a bloody trail to the top. After finding Jakob, and discovering the life-changing act of true, requited love, she followed him into the night. Using their skills and powers to hunt monsters, cure plagues, remove of bandits, and solve problems for the people of Althanas. If there ever were true living saints, the couple would rank among them.

Their days of traveling were coming to a close, though, and Merisa felt it with each day. Great tragedy loomed in the clouds and lurked between shadows.

As they approached a quiet, peaceful village that lay off the beaten trail the tense air felt as a barrier. Atrocity lined the voices and eyes of men and women fleeing the estates in a hurried panic. While it drove the denizens away, it lured the travelers in. With a sense of self righteous heroism, the two quickly found the source of fear and approached it's bloody threshold. Drawing his long elven scimitar, Jakob held one loving hand on Merisa's cheek before stepping inside.

. . .

Gore and guts hung like trophies from the walls, dripping slowly in a macabre waterfall down walls and cabinets. The crimson scene was paradise for the demon, watching his beautiful handiwork glisten. His tongue ran along the long ebony claws, cleaning them of any last remaining bits of the living before letting the monstrous weapons sink once more into his skin. Leir's burning ache had finally dulled to a low roar deep in his chest. Having fed on more than he could count in this night, the demon felt satisfied. This land was plentiful, and at every passing night he thanked the fates for awakening him to enjoy it. None yet had been brave enough to stand up to him, to end what was quickly becoming a blood-soaked massacre. This was not the first nor would it be the last time he left such a horrid scene to mark his passage. His moment of self-indulgent glory was cut short however as he heard the whimpers of the half-orc bartender. Having fled into the kitchen, the greenish hued man now regretted his decision and tried his best to remain quiet and forgotten. As the demon's glowing amber eyes set their gaze upon him, he knew he failed and decided to plea for survival.

"P-p-please, my great lord, spare me. I am fat and...and ugly...and I probably don't taste all that great either. I...I...I can get you more food! Humans! Plenty of humans! Just please, don't eat me! I...I beg you! I-"

Roaring he snapped his jaws at the man, growing quickly annoyed of his groveling, "Silence! I do not need a pathetic thing like you to feed me. I am not a baby. Be gone, Orc blood tastes like dirt. Foul thing." Grumbling, he turned to the swinging door of the kitchen, ready to leave, and noticed it was slowly opening towards him. The moment he turned away the half-orc burst unnoticed out the back exit. Still whimpering like a kicked dog.

A creature -Leir knew it not a man simply by his scent and height- practically fell through the kitchen door with his weapon drawn. He had the coordination and stagger of a man who drank to drown himself. Amused that such a fellow would draw a sword on a demon, Leir grinned and began to ready himself to kill another. However, after only stepping one foot towards the stranger he noticed fresh ruby liquid dripping from the weapon. Even over the overwhelming odor of the blood-soaked marble, the devil could smell that it was human blood lingering on that edge. With a grin spreading across his face, he instead held out a welcoming hand to the man.

"I am glad to see that someone agrees with me that these pathetic beasts do not deserve life. For a moment I feared you had the foolish notion of being a hero, but instead I find you a villain. Are you hungry? There is still some warm humans freshly killed laying somewhere around here, or some of their food still simmering in that pot." Casually he drew closer to it, treating the newcomer as he would treat one of his own people.

What harm would it be to make at least one ally in this world?

Sorry for the delay, I've been busy and I wanted to get this right. I decided to push back our departure another post, because it felt too rushed.

[Koran]

The Shadow Meld blinked, staring dumbly at the carnage dripping from the ceiling and walls around him. Stared, and had to blink again before he saw the strangely dressed man standing before him, his lips moving to form words that were up until that moment, unheard.

"Vvwhaat?" The taller slurred, hiccuping once, whatever the man had said escaping from his muddled mind. He raised his hand to wipe his mouth, all the ale he had so recently pored down into his gut was catching up to him, and quick. "Whhhat are yoou talkin' about? Hungry? I-i-i I'm not. Not- Not hungry." The Shadow Meld blinked slowly a few more times, then straightened abruptly. "What you - ? What are - ? Wwwhat the fixs going on heair?" He gestured wildly around at the blood soaked room, taking a few steps toward the man. "Havin' a partieeee-whoa!"

The taller just barely managed to catch himself before being unceremoniously deposited onto the bloody floor, his foot slipping in a pool of blood. "What the fuck? 'Oo put 'll that thur?" He bent to wipe a finger through a blood puddle beneath him, squinting at it for a moment before shaking his head. "I need a beer." Suddenly the blood soaked floor looked like a very comfortable place to rest and the Shadow Meld leaned further in toward it.

Groaning as though it were the hardest thing in the world for him to do, the Shadow Meld plopped himself down into a seated position and slid up against the nearest object suitable for a back rest. He then sighed heavily and leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. Clarity quickly began to return to his otherwise muffled senses and after a moment he opened his eyes and stared blankly at the man and the room around him.

"Yer gonna have lots of 'splainin' to do once the reinforcements arrive." He was beginning to speak a little clearer too, but the revelation was only dimly noted. He gestured with his empty hand, the sword having suddenly become too heavy to lift more than a few inches. "And now I'm stuck in this mess, cause I just killed a man walking in here." He paused. "Well, he killed himself really, but I'll still be blamed for it!" He let the hand drop and sighed heavily. "Seeing as we're in the shit together though, might as well find who we are." He smiled drunkenly. "If what you was saying earlier was an introduction, I apologize for not hearing it." He gestured sloppily with one hand. "Whoo! Ya know?" He laughed, then quieted quickly. "Anyway, I Jordhan and I am honored to be in the shit house with you." He paused again.

"Mister....?"

Again, I apologize for the long delay. Vacation is most time consuming.