• Closed • Burgeoning burglars

Noth

Rising from the stony plateau overlooking the rivers and plains of the western continent, and growing wealthy from the gem stones pulled from this same rocky soil, Etzos is a bastion of independence, eagerly spreading its belief that man should rule Idalos, not be servants of the vain Immortals who nearly destroyed it. But can the different factions set aside their agendas long enough to see this through?

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• Closed • Burgeoning burglars

Postby Finnegan O'Connor » Sun Oct 29, 2017 9:14 am

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Finn O'Connor :: 81st of Vhalar, 717
His friend, the vulture with the crimson eyes, had left him a message. As befitted an outcast, the crow had not shown himself but instead seen a crumpled note slipped into his pocket. Finn only discovered it when he’d buried his hands into his pockets on his way from the tower of ministers and back to the orphanage and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there, waiting to be read. Noth’s handwriting was sharp and aggressive, some pent-up rage shone through the lettering. It took Finn a moment to decipher and even longer to decide whether to heed the Avriel’s call, but then he considered he still owed the unfortunate bird a favor. Besides, he wouldn’t mind seeing Noth again. Outwardly, the resembled each other as much as night resembles day, but beneath the surface, Noth wasn’t so different.

And so, after another long day of work in Doran’s laboratory, he took a detour. The caretakers at the orphanage expected him to return at nightfall, such had been the agreement between them and Doran. It was beneficial to all. If Zipper would’ve had her way, he’d have been tied to a bedpost in the orphanage and been fed bugs until she decided to come back from pissing off to Foster’s Landing. What she had failed to realize was that by throwing Finn back into the orphanage, she had surrendered her claim on him and Doran had made good use of the opportunity to recruit a mildly reluctant helper.

The overworked caretakers were rather pleased with this arrangement too, glad to only have to cope with Finn’s antics at nighttime. To their pleasant surprise, Finn often returned worked beyond exhaustion and simply didn’t have the energy to cause any problems, except for simply plonking down on his bed the moment he returned.

Yawning, Finn made his way to the location described in the note. He didn’t often walk the richer circles of Etzos where he stood out like a sore thumb, even if he went through the trouble of trying to look decent. Fortunately, the same problem wasn’t as prevalent in the semi-dark of night.
He rounded a narrow corner, stopping a moment to check he’d come to the right place. From what the letter described, a rich merchant lived closeby and the back of his house could be reached through a narrow alleyway, shielded by a wooden gate that was always closed but never locked.
Finn looked around and spotted the lightly varnished door easily enough. Blood-red rose vines arched above the gateway, just as the letter had described. After checking if no one was looking, Finn pushed the door handle down and slipped through. A dark, narrow path, shielded by high walls on both sides, beckoned him closer. Finn stepped forward quietly, expecting to see two glowing embers emerge from the dark any moment.

It wasn’t until the pathway took a lazy turn to the right that he finally spotted the strange silhouette that was Noth and his glowing eyes. There were two more shadows, a burly man wearing a thick cloak and a mean looking woman rummaging through a collection of tools. Neither bothered to introduce themselves and Finn returned the favor.

“This the place?” Finn asked as he came up to Noth. They stood before a wrought-iron gate, flanked by tall hedges. Beyond the bars of the gate, a dirt path crisscrossed through a well-maintained garden and out of sight behind the trees that grew there. It had to be one of the largest houses in the entire city.

His eyes fell to Noth. “I’ll help you get in, but that’s all. I don’t want any trouble”

The burly man chuckled coarsely. “You’ve come to the wrung place then.”

“I say snot-nose is a liability,” the woman stated coolly as she sorted her tools and approached the gate with a lockpick. She shot a sideways glance at Finn, and bared her knackered teeth at him before resuming, “kids talk too much.”

But while she turned her head to the burly man, seeking his support, Finn had already made his move and squeezed himself sideways between the bars of the iron gate. He unfastened two bolt locks on the gate that would’ve been impossible to reach from the approaching side and nudged his head to the remaining lock. “Your turn.”
Defier's witchbrand:

A frigid, salty air accompanies Finn, his hair is dark as if wet and his skin is clammy to the touch.

Common, Ith'ession

"He's as creative as a thumbtick in a world of magnets" - Robin The Unkilled
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Burgeoning burglars

Postby Noth » Fri Nov 03, 2017 4:21 pm

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It had taken surprisingly little effort to have the tiny message sent to the young orphan boy. In another time, he might have gone through a surprising amount of time attempting to quietly coerce some drunkard or another into delivering the letter without reading its contents, or without simply abandoning it the trill that he was out of sight. Now, however, he had a somewhat more devoted entourage of criminals and scum, and whilst not all of them had originally joined him willingly, there were still those amidst his growing organization who could be trusted to stealthily plant deliveries and messages throughout the city without attracting the perspicacious and observant eyes of those who worked for the assorted political factions of the city.

Naturally, there was always the chance that those he had forcibly recruited would prove to be utterly perfidious in their behavior, but such treacheries would be dealt with once they threatened the stability or effectiveness of the group. A couple of whispering complaints hither and thither about their pressganging was to be expected, and to crack down too fiercely upon his subordinates would make him a tyrant in their eyes. True, he fully intended to become a tyrant in the future, but the greatest dictators and leaders knew that it was best to refrain from cruelly oppressing those whose presence was necessary to facilitate the enforcing of their will.

The hybrid trusted that the orphan he had met so many seasons ago would not betray him by revealing his exploits to the Black Guard. No, if their conversation had imprinted anything about the young fellow’s personality, it was that he detested the authoritarian stance that had been placed over him, and whilst the twilight hybrid was personally a fan of more orderly affairs, he could understand why the boy felt chafed under the unpleasant hand of the government. That was fine, in the end, Finn held the potential to be incredibly useful to Noth, and that meant that he was more than willing to overlook any minor shortcomings such as how he perceived the world or where he intended to be in a few arcs.

He would not have known of the location of the home of the merchant if it had not been shown to him by one of his recently acquired subordinates. It had apparently been a place that the crew had been planning to hit in a quick bout of thievery before they had been roughly assimilated into Al’Angyryl and forced to temporarily put their plans on hold as their prior leadership were broken under the heel of the monstrous Avriel. As time passed, however, they were able to return to their ways, and so the plans had been brought forth to the Prince so that he might assist in the operation. He had made some slight alterations to the plan which had initially frustrated those involved, but the promise of valuables and nels quickly alleviated any perturbed agitations on the part of the underlings.

The Avriel walked with a slight clink to his step from the metallic suit he wore upon his form, his crimson eyes blazing like a mighty fire from behind his steel armet, seemingly daring the world to speak derisively to him and see how their fate would be affected by the arrogant notion. Wicked talons passed in and out of vision as the moonlight glinted off of them, revealing their vicious edge in an appropriately grim setting. Crimson eyes flickered towards an empty space in the darkness, barely illuminated by a nearby lamp as the sound of footsteps reached him, and a small childish figure appeared from the gloom.

The boy’s voice was light and gentle as befitting his age, but it was also surreally corporate, as though Finn had spent many trials of his life performing similar jobs, and now saw this as only another employment opportunity as opposed to a potential felony. The hybrid nodded at the question, gazing towards the gate before them, and the dirt path leading off towards the massive home. The boy spoke once again, making it clear that he was only available to assist with the entering of the place, though it stood to be answered whether he meant the gate or the house proper.

Before the Avriel could alleviate his suspicions as to the nature of their nighttime escapades, the burly man; one of those acquired during the liquidation of Jag’s old gang, a fellow by the name of Gent who possessed nearly as much intelligence as he did syllables, spoke up, making it clear that the child had clearly come to the wrong sort of operation. It seemed liable that he had been taught to react so roughly through a poor experience as a child, because it was a common roughness among those who had sided with Jag before his untimely demise.

The woman was far less emotionally invested, but was just as scathing with her professional dismissal of his capabilities, citing that he was nothing more than a liability, and yet, for all of her scouring through her intricate bag of tools, she was unable to perform the work needed. Crimson eyes met her own for a split-trill before she returned to her fastidious checking and rechecking of equipment. Jessamine had been recruited from a mercenary band which had been guarding a caravan nearby, and had been astonishingly quick to acclimate herself to her new employer after her previous one went the way of the economy; that is, into the ground.

“Silence.” He uttered, killing the vibe of the pair in an instant. “The child is useful to our purpose. If he were not, he would not have been summoned.” He intentionally avoided referring to Finn by his name, knowing that it could potentially incriminate the child should one of the pair at some point prove to be disloyal or traitorous, though it seemed unlikely. They were obedient, and one had nowhere further to turn, whilst the other was satisfied with her employment.

Finn was quick to eliminate a pair of locks on the opposing side, and it took a minimal amount of effort to unlock the final one located upon their side, allowing the gate to swing open with a gentle creak, unlikely to be heard by anyone not listening intently for it. A short traipse through the garden yielded the presence of the massive home, standing a few dozen feet above them as a monument to the wealth and influence of its occupant.

The door seemed surprisingly unguarded, though there was the possibility that there were guards waiting within the doorway, taking in the comforts of the interior temperature as opposed to waiting outdoors where they would be exposed to the gradually more frigid winds of Vhalar. The hybrid waited patiently as Jessamine meticulously worked to pick through the lock of the doorway, Gent acting as a lookout near the gate for the group, ready to alert them and then retreat at any sign of the dreadful Black Guard.

“Finn. I trust you have been well?” The hybrid idly chattered, surprisingly uncharacteristic given his usual authoritarian manner. “I would not fret about getting into trouble… this is not exactly the type of visit you likely envision it to be. That said, your services could prove useful, and I’m certain there could be reward. Have faith, Finn. I would not lead you into danger."
Image

Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Noth
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Burgeoning burglars

Postby Finnegan O'Connor » Tue Nov 28, 2017 6:46 pm

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Finn O'Connor :: 81st of Vhalar, 717
Finn shrunk a little as the gate creaked open, and expected sound of barking and snarling guard dogs in reply. But all remained quiet, save for a rustle of cloth and the sound of boots crunching down on the cold dirt path slithering toward the mansion. He shot a cocky grin at Jessamine as she passed, though his smile faltered when Gent, that brute, shot a silencing glance at him. Finally, Noth joined them on the other side. In the pale moonlight the Avriel looked to be some nightmarish creature. A vicious, cruel monster straight out of grannies scary stories. Had he not seen him in a similar light before, Finn would've though him a hell-bird borne from evil womb ready to lift young'uns from their beds with his dagger-like talons.

Noth spoke calmly, almost casually while Finn bit down on his lips and nodded. "I'm. . . well," he said with some trepidation. He'd learned long ago that one needn't answer truthfully to such trivial questions. Wrapping his arms around himself, he stalked after Gent and Jessamine as they sneaked further into the garden. A trail of condensed breath followed him and he shivered when they halted again and crouched behind some tall, potted plants. Finn quietly spread the foliage apart and peeked through the gap.

The mansion counted not two, but three levels. The walls were made of bright, white stone and tall windows gazed back into the garden, their eyelids drawn closed with heavy curtains. All except one. A single light, too faint to have reached their eyes before, shone from what Finn guessed to be the living room. Shadows moved across the light and when the wind layed low, he heard voices, at least a dozen of them, humming, singing almost, muttering words in some ancient tongue. They were yet too far removed from the mansion to make out any features beyond the simple shapes of heads and outstretched arms, as though the shadows were praying to something in the center of the room, hidden from sight.

He turned to look at Noth, and searched the Avriel's bloodred gaze for a hint of surprise. "What are they. . ." he began to whisper. "What are they doing? Who are they?" Surely, Noth had no intention to steal gold and silver while the house owners were still present? A hard elbow poked into his side, but when he turned to familiarize Gent with some profanities, the brutish fellow simply pointed upward. "What?" Finn hissed through his teeth. Then he saw it. A small window sat directly under the crest of the roof, presumably leading into the attic. It looked to be opened just a smidge, judging by the ragged curtains that fluttered in the wind. A thick colon of ivy climbed up against the corner of the house. A small and light enough person could theoratically scale the overgrowth and hoist themselves up and through the window.

"No way," he muttered under his breath. He turned to Noth. "We should head back. There are people there."

"They seem pretty busy," Gent countered.

Finn turned to Jessamine "Can't you just pick a lock?"

"It's likely locked from the inside too," she said as she nodded towards the backdoor of the mansion.

"How would you know?"

"Do I look like I'm doing this for the first time? Do you think we just pick some house, unprepared?" she bit back. Finn considered a rude reply, but swallowed the words before they rolled off his tongue. "That's right," she added. "Stop whinging and get up there."

"Should've gutten sumone else, Noth," Gent huffed. "This one's wetting himself."

"Am not!"

"-too scared to climb an inch off the ground..."

"Am not!" he seethed as he jumped up from his crouched position and glared at Gent. His jaw clenched. "I'm not a coward." Then he turned to Noth. "I'll do it, but not for free," Finn said as he crossed his arms over his chest. Fearsome though the Avriel was, Finn knew that tonight's heist depended on his willingness to squeeze himself through the attic window and unfasten the backdoor from the inside. A promise of shimmering gold nel, along with a promise for his safety was all he needed. That, or a few more insults to his pride would surely see him clamber up the ivy and fullfil his purpose tonight.

The monotonous tones of men and women, muttering to the flickering light drifted into the air as Finn awaited Noth's answer.
Defier's witchbrand:

A frigid, salty air accompanies Finn, his hair is dark as if wet and his skin is clammy to the touch.

Common, Ith'ession

"He's as creative as a thumbtick in a world of magnets" - Robin The Unkilled
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Finnegan O'Connor
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Burgeoning burglars

Postby Noth » Tue Dec 05, 2017 10:54 am

Image


It was a logistical certainty that the twilight hybrid could not be everywhere within his fledgling organization. It was true that its relatively minor size made it far easier for him to police and to ensure that everything was running as smoothly as it could, but he had yet to master any of the technics that allowed for instantaneous teleportation, and so there were certainly still some facets that he was unable to oversee continuously. One of those minor details that he had overlooked had been whom the mansion they were going to be looting actually belonged to, and what that meant for any intrepid thieves intending on burglarizing the establishment.

He regretted that now.

It seemed as though there were an assortment of figures scattered throughout the inner room of the mansion, the only one that could visibly be seen from the outside, the light bleeding through the window like it was an open wound, pouring out in the world and revealing the treacherous anomalies occurring within its depths. There was movement, and when the wind died for a few trills to regain its stamina, he thought that he could hear some semblance of chanting, the voices rising in unison in low reverberating sounds as though they were all attempting to enter a trance with an unknown divinity. There was little doubt that they were worshippers of something; an offense punishable by demise in the eyes of the twilight hybrid, but one which the corrupt state had recently mandated as acceptable so long as it was practiced within the privacy of the home.

The Avriel cast another glance down at his accomplice, the young orphan boy who would certainly be pivotal in allowing their entry into the home. The almost total lack of response that he had gotten after his inquiry into his life made it clear that he was here solely to repay what he perceived as a favor, and that he did not consider the hybrid to be anything more than a vague acquaintance he had met once in the midst of the woods. He wondered whether he had been warned against associating with dreadful beasts by his upstart scholastic instructors, and if that had perhaps led him to grow colder towards the twilight hybrid.

“Worshippers of some kind if I were to make an assumption, Gent?”
“Aye, e’rry few trials they go ‘un do this.”

Noth sighed at that thought, though he supposed it was reasonable enough that they attempt to rob the establishment whilst they were preoccupied with whatever blasphemy was keeping them distracted. Nevertheless, he would have greatly preferred if they had simply waited until the owners had left the home, and then proceeded to enter so that they would have less potential problems, but he supposed such critical thinking escaped the simple minds of those like Gent.

The hybrid sat thinking, considering the assorted options that were presented to him as his companion goons and the childish Finn began to argue among one another. It seemed that they desired him to reach a window which likely led into the attic of the building, and then to work downwards so as to unlock the door for them. It was not a terrible idea, but he was uncertain as to the stealthy capabilities of Finn, and he would absolutely detest losing a potentially handy agent to such careless planning. Gent called upon him, mentioning that he should have picked someone else for the work at hand, and the hybrid might have been compelled to react in defense of his choice if Finn had not retorted an instant later with another childish remark. Such an affront to the young boy’s honor was not taken lightly, and he seemed ever more compelled to commit the deed just so that he might not be muddied in the minds of others.

“Perhaps you are correct, Gent…” He muttered softly, taking a step back and glaring down at young Finn. “You want a prize for your efforts? Fine. You will have it. You will receive a share of the profits for your effort. Something like fifteen percent.” He uttered, knowing that Finn likely had a very little grasp upon mathematics, and so he could simply give him whatever seemed ‘correct’ once the operation had been concluded. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure of how to count fifteen percent either, but he supposed it sounded correct.

“Do not fail me, Finn.” He ordered darkly, gazing upwards at the attic once more and motioning for the pair of companions to assist him upwards. Once he had departed, he would turn to Gent and harshly condemn him. “Be mindful of where you utter my name, Gent.”
"Sorry, Prince."
Image

Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
User avatar
Noth
Feathered Fiend
 
Posts: 676
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Vhalar 716 (1) Crush The Reviews! 717 (1) Event Medal (2)

Burgeoning burglars

Postby Finnegan O'Connor » Mon Jan 15, 2018 7:30 pm

[quote="Finnegan O'Connor"]
Image
Finn O'Connor :: 81st of Vhalar, 717
Finn regretted his demand for payment the moment those glowing eyes bore down on him. The argument with Gent was instantly forgotten as he retreated a pace. He possessed enough acting skill to sound slightly more courageous than he felt, but the rapid pulsing near his collarbone spoke the truth.

The malformed Avriel’s appearance, caught in the vale glow of light, seemed less haggard and crooked than he’d remembered. What Noth had lost in apparent frailty, he’d gained in menace in strength. This was not some weak and cripple bird, hiding in his filthy cave, and perhaps it had never been. There was some malevolence in Noth, some indifferent cruelty that he either had failed to see the first time, or that had risen to the surface since their last encounter.

Finn squeezed his lips as he counted something in his head. He wished he’d paid more attention in the cold, overcrowded classrooms that the orphans were herded into each day. Instead, he and his sister had soon figured out that the sheer size of the classrooms made the absence of one or two mousy children almost unnoticeable and that a decent nel could be made on the streets, if you knew where to look. Zipper had always been the one to share their loot however, and though he suspected she hadn’t always been completely fair, he had never considered that he might one day need the skill to estimate the meaning of fifteen percent. The silence soon became far too heavy to ignore and so he simply nodded, deciding that he didn’t really dare ask for more anyway.

Noth’s second statement was met with an even more vigorous nod, one made from equal parts determination and fright. Keeping his head down, he skittered across the wet grass until he reached the vines. The voices were louder now, but rendered indiscernible by the rain. Taking a deep breath, Finn mustered the courage to begin the long and treacherous climb upward.

Carefully he reached out for the strongest looking branches and tried his weight on them. The ropey wood creaked dangerously, but held his weight, even as his feet searched for good footing. A gust of wind sprayed his face with rain and cold leaves slapped against his side as he stubbornly climbed up and up. It was about halfway through his ascension that he made the unfortunate choice of looking down.

A flash of lightning struck as his eyes swept over the glowing window where the house’s inhabitants resided, and what he almost let go in sheer horror. His look into the room was skewed at an angle and he could only see a part of the hooded figures in the handsomely furnished living room. But the fanciful chairs had been pushed aside and made room for a long, dark table instead upon which a freakish creature rested. Finn had never seen the likes of it, but the afterimage still burned in his vision even after the flash of light had vanished. Its limbs were long, thin, and stretched out while its skin was blotched and festering with the most horrendous cuts.

He gazed back at where he’d last seen Noth and the others, but couldn’t spot them through the thick curtains of rain. With a palpitating heart he returned to scaling the rickety overgrowth and, with an unsteady hand, carefully swung the attic window open. Groaning, he hoisted himself over the edge and unceremoniously landed in a cloud of dust. Coughing, he stumbled forward through the semi-dark, waving his hand until the dust settled. Not a soul had been up here in quite some time it appeared, and with good reason, there was hardly anything in it save for an old chandelier, and a stack of broken chairs. Four faint lines of light cracked through the floorboard, outlining a small trapdoor in the center of the attic. Minding his step, Finn edged forward, wading through several walls of sticky cobwebs as he advanced. Just as he knelt near the trapdoor, the most harrowing sound reverberated through the house. A twisted moan, a cry of unimaginable suffering stretching the length of several trills followed by a rhythm of loud chanting.

An image of what he’d glimpsed downstairs resurfaced in his mind and he hesitated to lift the trapdoor, not wishing to walk into some arcane ritual. He had already turned to head back when he considered Noth’s disappointment. Don’t fail me, he had said. Returning empty-handed would be failing and something told him Noth would be more than displeased.

Cursing under his breath he forced his fingertips into the crack in the floor and slowly swung the trapdoor open, until the attic bathed in the light coming from below. Sitting on his knees, he carefully poked his head through the hole and was relieved to find an empty hallway, save for the portraits whose eyes all seemed to watch him in the flickering light of a sole oil lamp. He spotted an old ladder at the far end of the hall and it was hard to guess how much of a drop he’d make if he let himself fall through the hole. Last thing he needed in a stranger’s house was a sprained ankle. With some trepidation he retreated his head and swung his legs over the edge instead. It’s gonna be alright, he muttered to himself. It’ll be alright…

--

Outside the wind howled and the rain crashed down ever more violently. The soil was starting to turn into a squishy mud and what little visibility they had from the lights was hampered by the thick downpour. The only time they could see anything clearly was when the sky was torn asunder with a violent flash of light followed by a monstrous rumble. It was during one of these flashes that those standing outside would also be able to hear the faint but horrendous moaning of something in the house. A few more bits would pass before another flash lit up the front yard and revealed that the front door was slightly ajar, yet no one could be seen standing near the entrance.

--

OOC: Not quite as amazing as I promised, perhaps, but there's something cool ahead, trusttt meeee. Move forward and improvise as you see fit, I can adapt. Just leave this house’s inhabitants and the strange noises to me :)
And, ofc, sorry for the humongous delay. I’ll try to think of a way to make it up to you.
Defier's witchbrand:

A frigid, salty air accompanies Finn, his hair is dark as if wet and his skin is clammy to the touch.

Common, Ith'ession

"He's as creative as a thumbtick in a world of magnets" - Robin The Unkilled
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Finnegan O'Connor
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Burgeoning burglars

Postby Noth » Tue Jan 30, 2018 9:24 am

Image


Children were perhaps the easiest of all beings to frighten and terrify, considered the Avriel as he glared down at young Finn. Their very nature made it a simplistic think, because all he needed to do was be somewhat suggestive of terrible endings, and their imaginations would flare with all the potentialities of such a statement. It certainly helped that his appearance was in many ways similar to that of all the monsters they would hear about from their parents and caretakers, the persons who lied to them about such terrible beings in an effort to get them to work on their chores or else to be haunted by some unseen bogeyman. It was an unfortunate reality that sometimes the monsters that were spoken of in stories were far less dreadful than those that skulked around the shadows of reality, edging ever closer to the hearth with every fateful exhalation of deathly activity.

There was a stillness that seemed to creep upon the meeting, and for an instant Noth considered that the boy might abandon their quest out of fear, might return to his orphanage and vow never again to consider working with the murderous Avriel, but then he nodded, and the hybrid knew that he was in his web for a while longer. The child was vigorous in his movements, eager to please lest he face whatever cruelties his mind told him were possible, and so he reached and began to scramble up a series of nearby vines and branches.

It was evident to the Avriel that Finn must certainly have been involved in several instances of climbing in the past, because his form was undeniably correct. The way that he searched for additional and secure footing before he continued was evidence enough of that fact, and the hybrid wondered whether he possessed a great many skills that were hidden underneath the veneer of being only a youthful boy. It could be quite possible that he excelled at a great many talents, and that his experiences upon the streets away from the orphanage had managed to forge him into a far stronger person than he might have been if he had simply waded through the mire of tedium that was schoolwork and listening obediently to the requests of idiots who had gained their positions entirely through bureaucratic pleasantries.

Eventually, the rain and subsequent stormy weather made it more difficult to properly perceive the child, though the hybrid thought that he could see what appeared to be a tumorous mass that occasionally shifted position on the side of the building not altogether unlike a parasitic barnacle on the hull of a boat. Finally the mass disappeared from his sight, and he came to the conclusion that Finn had managed to enter the building. The Avriel awaited outside, checking over his equipment, and glancing a final time at his compatriots to ensure that they were fully prepared for their entry into the structure. A harrowing and unfortunate groaning noise reached him, and he saw as the spines of his allies straightened in some surprise. It was unlike any sound he had heard before, but he could recognize suffering nearly anywhere due to his vast experience with it. Had it been the child? It hadn’t sounded even remotely human… but there was always the possibility he supposed.

There was a flash of blinding light as the heavens themselves split open to allow a streak of lightning to pass through their midst, clouds exploding in a brilliant detonation of power. The light from said explosion blasted down towards the Idalosian soil, painting the landscape and all that could be seen in the sudden impression of daylight for a fraction of a trill. Avian eyes took notice of a detail, an effect of action even before they had determined the cause; there was wind going into the building. A closer examination revealed that the door had been left slightly ajar, though, he could not perceive any indication that Finn was actually at the entryway.

Had he managed to open it only to be discovered by whatever monstrosity roamed the hallways? For that matter, why were they bothering with a structure that contained such an abominable entity as that which had managed to create the groan of agony? Noth sighed with some consternation, wrapping his hand around his mace, and striding into the building, talons raking softly against the floor, painting the doorway with a hint of mud before it had been scraped entirely off of the killing appendages.



Image

Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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Noth
Feathered Fiend
 
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Burgeoning burglars

Postby Finnegan O'Connor » Sun Feb 04, 2018 10:13 am

[
Image
Finn O'Connor :: 81st of Vhalar, 717
As soon as Noth and his compatriots had entered, Finn revealed himself standing behind the door. His eyes were wide and his chest rose and fell rapidly as though he'd been chased by a ghost. No sooner than the next roll of thunder sounded did he push the door shut, using the rumbling sound to mask the noise of the door falling back into its lock. The hallway was engulfed in darkness, but the occasional flashes of lightning rendered the path ahead all too clear. This was clearly one of the wealthier mansions in Etzos, just the golden chandelier hanging in the large, broad hall would be enough to feed all the orphans in the orphanage for a year, and that didn't even begin to mention the marble floor, or the ornate wooden table, or the large mirror that hung high up the wall.

There were two doors to the immediate left and right of the back entrance, through which they had come. The left door led toward the light and toward the hair-raising sounds of agony and the bizarre, low chants. The door to the right led away from what was unmistakably an occult ritual and into darkness. Further back in the hall, two more doors were visible. The one directly opposed to the backdoor entrance led to another hallway, separated by a stained-glass door, before reaching the front entrance. The other one was also located to the left, but further back into the hall. It too was dark. Finally, there was a broad staircase on the right side of the hallway which led to a faint light coming from above. The small, muddied footsteps showing on the red carpet that had been draped over the marble steps showed that Finn had come down that way. Lastly, there was another path, hidden from view, at the backside of the stairway. Presumably this path led down into the basement, and the horrors locked therein.

“Mutants,” Finn mouthed from his position against the door as he nudged his chin up the stairs. Jessamine would’ve scoffed if not for the wailing coming from the living room. It did sound rather unnatural, but that didn’t mean there was any danger. The way she saw it, this was an excellent cover to strip the place clean of valuables and she’d already started going about that task, filling up an burlap sack with anything shiny she could get her hands on.

“Noth,” Finn whispered lowly from his place against the door. “I saw them.” He stretched out his arm and his trembling finger pointed upstairs. “Padfoot’s freaks. There’s a whole room of them-”

Gent cleared his throat. “Nonsens-”

“You didn’t see them!” Finn hissed through his teeth. He turned to the imposing shadow bird, his face paling ever so slightly at the sight of the mace. “We should go,” he advised. “Before it’s too late.”

Noth had only a few trills to make his choice as the light coming from the leftmost door flickered, a shadow passing in front of it. The chanting had stopped and footsteps approached. Remaining downstairs was risky for there had been many voices chanting, and the group now appeared to be dispersing. Heading upstairs might seem the safer bet, but the muddy trace of Finn’s footsteps would soon lead the houseowners to suspect unwanted visitors. The last choice was the basement, and there was no telling what lingered there.
Defier's witchbrand:

A frigid, salty air accompanies Finn, his hair is dark as if wet and his skin is clammy to the touch.

Common, Ith'ession

"He's as creative as a thumbtick in a world of magnets" - Robin The Unkilled
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Finnegan O'Connor
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Burgeoning burglars

Postby Noth » Tue Feb 13, 2018 2:55 pm

The appearance of Finn hiding just beyond the entryway of the door was somewhat unexpected, and he immediately found himself clutching at his mace. It was not necessarily the surprise at having found the child where he did not expect him, but rather the fact that his face was coiled into an expression akin to that of a frightened specter, as though he had been met with something truly atrocious in the hallways of the mansion, something vicious and terrible enough that it elicited a reaction he had never quite seen in the child. Even when he had first encountered Finn, he had not displayed such an expression, and that was worrying to say the least since he knew just how terrifying he was in appearance.

The young one showed his wisdom when he awaited the rumble of thunder to drown out the noise of the door shutting, ensuring that they would not be sighted by any fascinated or curious passerby who managed to see their silhouettes waiting just inside of the structure. His eyes immediately caught sight of the floor just beyond view of young Finn, taking note of the relative luxury of it, before finally observing the remainder of the hall. The presence of a large golden chandelier dominating the center of the hallway was enough to inform the hybrid that they had certainly picked a decent place to burglarize, though it seemed that the timing of their operation might prove to be inefficient and inconvenient to their purpose of relieving the proprietors of all of their fanciful goods.

One of the companions with him suckled in breath as though they were preparing to speak, and he quickly raised his hand for silence, abruptly cutting them off before they could begin to converse and potentially blow their cover. Instead, the Avriel knelt down upon a single knee, ensuring that he did so softly so that his equipment would not batter loudly against the tiles underfoot, and promptly listened to their intrepid thief as he regaled the contents of the building. A single eye raised in some shock at the idea that there could be mutants hidden away within the home, though a momentary listen to the ambience of pain and what could only be described as eldritch and occultist chanting quickly subverted any reluctance he had to believe the boy.

Could it be that the mutants themselves were involved in the religious service, and were perhaps attempting to remove what they perceived to be a blight from their flesh? Or, perhaps it was a group of worshippers who had decided to honor their worthless godlings with the sacrifice of what they thought were now little more than animals since their features had shifted into less humanoid and more animalistic or fearsome characteristics. He heard a gentle rustle behind him, and cast his eyes backwards, observing as Jessamine went about the process of stuffing her rucksack full of nearby jewelries and valuables. That seemed reasonable enough, actually, because if they were forced to retreat from what was certainly a cult, then they would not have the opportunity to take what they desired from the building, and it was better to be weighed down slightly by goods than to have nothing at all to show for their work.

It was understandable that the child would be frightened at the prospect of encountering both occultist activity, and what could only be described as abominations. He was young, far too young to have faced such occurrences of reality beyond the fairytale fictions commonly regaled to children, but the Avriel did not feel such terror at the prospect. Cultists were devoted, true, but that devotion could quickly be turned into despise by severing the head of their organization. Beyond that, they typically lacked the numbers to affect quite as much as a declared religion or even a dedicated spy organization, and it was more likely to find groups of disaffected and depressed civilians in such groups than truly capable or deadly soldiers.

“No.” He spoke softly to Finn, his feathered fingers clutching at the shoulder of the young man, attempting to spin him about to face the hallway as opposed to the door. “Finn, those mutants are people too. I will not leave them to be tortured and slain by a group of cowards who think that their ability to sing together makes them powerful.” That was perhaps the strongest plea to morality that he had ever attempted, but he considered the youth of the boy, and thought of the idealistic tendencies of youth, the desire to rise above one’s station into the ranks of heroes.

But… to emphasize the point, he spoke firmly into the ear of the boy, all of his menace present as he uttered, “You will take me to them.”

The presence of nearby footsteps meant that time was of the essence, but he had made his decision.
Image

Credit to Pegasus

As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
User avatar
Noth
Feathered Fiend
 
Posts: 676
Joined: Sat Jul 16, 2016 12:51 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Monster
Renown: -325
Character Sheet
Prophets' Notes
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Partner
Templates
Medals: 24
Character of the Month (1) Peer Reviewer (1) Painting With Words (1) Vlogger Extraordinaire (1)
Guild Master (1) Mentor (1) One Arc Later... (1) Living Legend (1)
In Your Favor (1) Pioneer (2) Wanted (1) First Kiss (1)
Murderer (2) Enemy of My Enemy (1) Scandalous (1) Lol Worthy (3)
Vhalar 716 (1) Crush The Reviews! 717 (1) Event Medal (2)

Burgeoning burglars

Postby Finnegan O'Connor » Mon Apr 16, 2018 7:58 pm

Image
Finn O'Connor :: 81st of Vhalar, 717
The claw resting on his shoulder would undoubtedly notice the slight tremble passing through Finn’s frame. When Noth spoke he was already inclined to listen, but when the Prince of Eternal Mercies put his mouth so close to his ear and dropped his voice so menacingly, Finn dared not to breathe. Goosebumps marked his skin. No doubt Noth readily recognized the distinct scent of unbridled fear, for he inspired it so effortlessly.

The Avriel might just as well have tried to choke him, for the response was much the same. Finn gasped for air as soon as the Prince had finished his demands. Blind fear had seized hold of him and he remained frozen for several trills, urging his pounding heart to calm down.

His eyes, wide with terror, darted to the door and back, trying to decide which posed the greater danger: the susurrated murmurs of the mansion’s inhabitants, muffled by the roaring weather and a few inches of brick and mortar, or Noth’s harrowing, vitriolic red eyes and the mace he carried so threateningly. The rapid flaring of his nostrils alternated just as quickly between his options. One thing was clear: he could not remain still.

A creak sounded. His right hand shot up to his mouth to cover his heavy breathing, and with good cause. A ray of light shot from the door closest to them, catching the dark hallway in an ever broadening beam of gold as it swung halfway open. The voices could be heard clearly now, but whoever had opened the door still remained hidden from sight, distracted by an inaudible question from one of the other cultists.

Finn didn’t wait any longer. He ducked under Noth’s wing and started toward the backdoor, ignoring hushed cries from Jessamine and Gent. “I knew it!” Gent cursed almost inaudibly. “The rat’s scurrying!”

Freedom called on the other side. Freedom and very bad weather, though that was certainly among the least of his concerns presently. If anything, he was thankful for the bad weather, as the endless assault of rain drowned out his hurried, pattering footsteps.

“Get back ‘ere!” Jessamine hissed.

Yet before he reached the backdoor, he skidded on his heels and made a ninety degree turn, nearly smacking into the cellar door. “C’mon!” he mouthed, gesturing wildly for the rest of the party to hurry down a dark flight of stairs as he held the door open. Gent and Jessamine exchanged a stunned look, but hesitated no longer as a strip of golden light lit up the hallway. In the beam of light, ever widening as the door swung further and further open, shadows of hooded figures danced across the midnight marble. Gent scarcely made it out of the main hallway before the hallways was flooded with light and footsteps and many voices. Finn quietly lowered the handle and closed the cellar door behind Gent, and not a moment too soon as the shadow of a man could be seen through the frosted glass at the top of the cellar door.

“...wretched creatures…” the shadow’s voice declared with some resignation.

Another voice could be heard, male and stern. “...I understand Gaius, but we cannot break with what The Book instructs…”

Then a female joined the cacophony. “..terrible weather, you could stay a while longer? We have many rooms to spare…”

Shadow after shadow walked past the cellar door, the silhouette of their heads visible against the amber light, shining through the top fifth of the door that had been rendered translucent with artisan glass.

“...I said, no running Alice! And clean your shoes please, you’re leaving mud all over the stairs!…”

“...wasn’t me!...” the voice of a young girl sounded.

There were many more voices than the chanting had let on, certainly more than The Prince could take on, even with the element of surprise and several disposable crooks on his side. Making matters worse, the power of these people, as well as their intentions were yet unclear. Finn let out a low, shivering breath and barely moved his lips as he urged the others further down the stairs.

“... there’s more wine in the cellar…”

His soundless gesturing now turned to indiscernible shushing noises as the click-clack of women's shoes fast approached.

“Ow!” cried Gent.

“Quiet!” hissed Jessamine.

Like a group of anxious children having entered some forbidden domain, they descended in disorderly fashion, each of them, except their esteemed leader perhaps, trying to get to the safety of the dark and decidedly colder cellar first.

There bumbling descent ended abruptly as the cellar door swung open. Blinding light poured down from above and it was only through sheer luck that the woman at the top of the stairs was momentarily distracted by another voice before she looked down, or she might have noticed the unwanted guests. Instead, she lifted an oil lamp from a hook near the door, and lit it with a candle she’d brought before placing it in a holder designed for that very purpose. Within that time, the four burglars had enough time to retreat into the shadows and prepare an assault.

Armed with the oil lamp she took a trill to close the cellar door behind her before holding the oil lamp high above her head, casting an eerie light across the cellar floor. If there was ever any doubt about the wealth of the inhabitants, it was soon dispelled. The approaching light revealed the cellar to cover an area almost as large as the entire first floor. There were rows upon rows of crates, barrels, and shelving units, some of them dedicated to one type of food or drink entirely. Further into the cellar, though the limited light did not permit one to see too far, other structures could be seen, far larger than the units containing almost a hundred rare, vintage wines. By the time the woman had descended completely, Finn had hid under stairs, wondering if he’d be fast enough to strike the woman from behind and cover her mouth in the same motion. One shriek from her, he knew, would give them all away. In a way he almost hope she’d spot them and sound the alarm. Then at least they’d be able to get away from Padfoot’s freaks.

A chain rattled in the unseen depths of the cellar.
Defier's witchbrand:

A frigid, salty air accompanies Finn, his hair is dark as if wet and his skin is clammy to the touch.

Common, Ith'ession

"He's as creative as a thumbtick in a world of magnets" - Robin The Unkilled
User avatar
Finnegan O'Connor
Approved Character
 
Posts: 304
Joined: Fri Mar 03, 2017 7:24 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Mischiefmaker
Renown: +71
Character Sheet
Prophets' Notes
Plot Notes
Medals: 3
Painting With Words (1) Guild Master (1) Legend In Waiting (1)

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