• Graded • Scouting for Girls (Southguard)

6th of Ashan 718

With the escalation of hostilities between Etzos and Rhakros, a series of small walled towns is being established as a network of early warnings and defenses against Rhakros' reprisals. Only the very bravest and most formidable of characters should risk themselves on the Witches' Wilds frontier.

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6th Ashan, 718

Southguard.

Ryder had only stepped foot in Southguard a few times in the time he'd spent in Etzos. Travelling was never the mercenaries thing, he was a creature of habit that much preferred the comfort of a familiar city than travelling between towns and other various locations. Something about it felt wrong, gave him an uncomfortable feeling. Ryder liked to know his surroundings, and being somewhere he wasn't able to do that made him feel vulnerable to some sort of attack.
Some sort of attack, however, seemed to be the least of Ryder's worries - or perhaps the biggest. "What the fuck..." he muttered, dismounting his horse as he saw the scene in front of him. Whatever had happened here was beyond anything the mercenary had seen as of yet, and that was saying something. Ryder had seen it all, but the chaos and destruction here was unnatural.

After taking a few trills to take it in, the mercenary got back on his horse and glanced around, spotting a hill where he could view what had happened and try and see if the culprit was still around, or if there was any hints as to who it was. Could A'A have done this without him being informed? It wasn't as if he was important enough to be told everything, but this seemed beyond something Al'Angyryl would do. Even if it wasn't, Ryder would have been told, surely?
As he made his way up to the hill, it didn't take long to see that the mercenary wasn't alone. In front of him was a woman, though Ryder couldn't make out any of her features. He hesitated for a trill, before shaking his head and dismounting the horse again, making his way towards the woman and the mound of earth she was sat on.

Looking out to the town below, Ryder tried to ignore that the woman was there. Looking at the sight of this chaos didn't make Ryder feel remorse, or sympathy, or anything of the sort. It made Ryder feel confused, that such a destructive force existed so close by. Perhaps it was one of those mages that were said to be flaying people wildly, or perhaps it was some creature that they hadn't seen in the surrounding area yet. Truth be told, it could be anything. Anyone.
Ryder then took a glance to the woman beside him, taking any details of her he could in to account. He was here to look at the chaos and work out what it was, but what was she doing here?
Last edited by Ryder on Thu Apr 26, 2018 10:03 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 442
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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Yes, she sighed, she had allowed herself to be silhouetted against the sky, and the little pest has noticed her. Would he be an element of distraction from, or an additional element to, her disappointment? She sat and waited to see what drab mortal engagement he would initiate.

Her fun had actually ended several trials ago. She had known that wretch Patrick had been here. The ring from that interfering do-gooder, Ymiden, had brought a considerable degree of obscurity to her ability to track Patrick's whereabouts, but there was no need to confirm the results. It was definitely the work of one of her own.

The chaotic ravages of her curse, the insatiable hunger for destruction, always left its sign. Southguard had been shrouded in smoke when she'd arrived; buildings reeling, tumbled-down or collapsed, the delicious odor of death on the breeze, a chorus of wailing grief to caress her ears. But her fiend was already gone. She could now only hope he'd slain all that he cared most about, and was somewhere hating himself and his existence.

Ahhh, but the hope of escalation was her mission now. Surely there would be someone into whose ear she could whisper Patrick's name and nurture their rage and need for vengeance. Someone who hated him for what he'd done, but would yet embrace the same source for the same power to commit the same atrocities; all in the name of 'justice', of course.

It always amused her how easily mortals ensnared themselves in what they most often claimed to hate. Perhaps that was what this young man now approaching wanted. He had not come from the rebuilding town, she'd noted that when he was still a ways off. But he may have been gone during her fiend's rampage, and now be returning to find the carnage. He had clearly shown pause upon getting close enough to realize Southguard's current situation.

She allowed him to approach, saying nothing as he sat nearby. Ticks passed and he said nothing. This was going nowhere. She was right on the verge of simply slaying the brat, when she decided to try her other primary tact with young men. Where the offer of destructive power did not entice, physical pleasure was a reliable fallback. Perhaps he would even live long enough to bring her to her own reward.

She lifted suddenly off the stone she'd been sitting on, transforming the feathery covering, and taloned structure of her legs, for sheer, naked skin. She shed the raptor-like cut of her face for something more human, a high-cheeked sleekness, framed in wildy flowing, jet-black hair. Her eyes burned orange as her wings spread gloriously to bring her to a soft, hovering landing close by.

She wrapped her wings around her now, her exquisite nudity sheathed in a teasing layer of semi translucence as she strode toward him, hips swaying seductively. "Impressive is it not? Would you like a closer look, boy?"
word count: 506
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"Holy shit..." Ryder muttered under his breath, the woman transforming in front of him. As he spent more time in Etzos, he thought he'd seen it all. Yet every time he was stupid enough to think something like that, he was quickly proven wrong in a unique and often terrifying way. But this time was definitely different. Ryder was often shown weirdness, but a now-nude woman with burning orange yes and nothing but wings to cover her was definitely up there on the list.
"Impressive is one word for it" he managed to get out of his mouth, bringing his eyes to meet hers. He often found himself attracted to women, and of those women he had slept with a fair quantity. But random, winged women with glowing orange eyes in the middle of arse-end nowhere wasn't normally how it went.

Despite how weird it was, the man couldn't deny whatever power this was. As strange as the situation may be the woman's words were tempting, almost compelling the man to listen to them. He was interested in her, what she had to say and who she was. But why? Who was this winged woman, who had shed from talon to skin? Only one way to find out.
"I don't mean to be rude" the man started, blushing at how close he now realized he was. "But...who are you?" he said, in the least insulting way he could. It was clear he wasn't trying to be impolite, but he had to ask the question. Someone had to, at least. She knew nothing of him, he knew nothing of her. Wanting lust was different to randomly embracing a winged, taloned woman on top of a hill.

No matter what words left his mouth, however, his body betrayed him. His eyes showed lust, and anyone with a keen enough eye knew how he felt about this woman. How she moved, spoke, breathed - all of it was enticing. Even as the man told himself no, he found himself wanting her in some way. As if she had power over him, or just power in general.
Holding his breath, the man awaited the winged woman's response with a mix of emotions, most prominently anticipation. His question could go many ways. He just hoped the way it went favored him.
word count: 395
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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The winged beauty pouted as she did the last few steps of what was essentially a fan dance with her wings. She stayed just a few inches shorter than her target, to give him a feel of strength and protection, as she began her game. "You don't know who I am? Aww, you wound me, you big strong boy. I am a part of the lives of ALL mortals who choose not to let prudish, self-righteous sticks-in-the-mud tell them what is morally permissible."

She writhed around him, keeping low as she let a wing wrap around him, pulling herself close enough to let him feel her breasts press against his attire. "If someone has wronged you, do you owe it to those that know nothing about it to tell you how you should react?"

She did not allow him to answer, filling in the blank herself instead, "Of course not! Any man worth his...spine..." she paused suggestively on the last word, as she swung her other wing around him, letting the fullness of her womanhood fill his vision. "...Takes the action he sees fit."

Her hand found the bulge behind his zipper, and she stroked it expertly, "And I can certainly tell what you want." Her voiced purred in calculated surrender. "Take what you want, big boy! I'm right here." She pressed her body against his, every feature of her form finding stimulating points to tease as she let soft moans escape her, seeming spontaneous.

Depending on whether Ryder completely fell for her seduction, or if he resisted, sensing he was being played, he would quickly find the strange woman suddenly being taller than himself, and lifting him off his feet. It would either be a lustful embrace, or a dominating one. But either way she would make it clear that she expected something from him first.

Whether it was cooed with desire, or demanded with insistence, she would downplay it as a small matter, easily accomplished, and one that would be rewarded not only with her body, but with her blessing. She murmured that he need only go down into the town below and identify the human responsible for the release of the monster that killed so many and destroyed so much.

"His name is Patrick Barnell and he broke a oath to me, and then spread lies about me, saying that the monster was my doing. Clearly I can not go down there with these lies distorting their judgement! But you can. I would be so grateful if you would do this for me. And I can promise you that my blessing will help you with your own...secret...What was her name?...Serah?"

Her tone still feigned innocence of any desire to force compliance, but her eyes now burned with threat.
word count: 471
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What shield Ryder had was gone, the protection he wore around himself. Paranoia was normally a part of the mercenary's job, and nobody was ever this close without the man consenting to it. But whatever this woman was, whoever she was, there was more to her than person. An unnatural seduction enveloped the man and before he knew it, he near to lost control of himself. Desire took over, a craving for what she was offering and what she teased him with. She had won him over before even needing her touch.
Then came her embrace, with no resistance to be found. Perhaps it was her beauty or her power that appealed to the man, but there was no denying that the appeal was there. Whatever she did, it worked, and now the man wanted her. Wanted her power, wanted her touch. Yet something seemed off, and then came the offer. Her body was not yet his, there was just one simple task, and with it came the added reward of her blessing.

As if the offer wasn't enough, then came a name that made Ryder's spine shiver, snapping him back to reality. Serah. His eyes went from dazed to a sharp, cold look as his eyes met hers. Desire was replaced with a gut-wrenching anger. Now he had no choice in the matter, this wasn't an offer - it was an order. He had nothing to lose from doing it, but his position was now clear. Syroa had control of him with just word alone, not even lust. She could take away the one thing he desired to keep over anything else. All that could keep her safe was Ryder now.
"You want the man to be known for what he did, and in exchange I get your blessing and Serah stays safe?" his voice muttered, loud enough she would hear. Burning hatred burned inside the man, the position of vulnerability making him feel a dark feeling he tried to avoid at all costs. But there was only one answer. "Consider it done. I will tell every man and woman down there about Patrick Barnell and what he has done to this place."

Yet there was one more issue the man found himself feeling. All interest in this woman had been replaced by a determination, all lust he felt replaced with a feral anger. Ryder wanted to keep Serah safe now, and no other thoughts entered his mind. Whatever pleasure this woman could give him, on this Trial, was no longer something he wanted.

"As for your body, keep it. Serah's safety will be enough."
word count: 441
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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The change in the man's emotions was immediately sensed by the Immortal of Lust and Fury. The switch from one to the other could not have been more plain to Syroa if he had written it on a scroll and unrolled it in her face.

Anger surged in her essence at his insolence, but she stayed her wrath for the present. Too many of these mortals became fatalistic in their defiance if they believed they had already gone too far. They held that if they were going to die anyway, they may as well do what they called "dying well".

She had always found that an intolerable nuisance. And it was not that she necessarily yearned to kill this one now anyway. In truth, she realized that the rage he'd felt at the threat to this 'Serah' was of a degree should could appreciate. It was time to backpedal just a bit, if she wished to keep this one loyal.

Her face and eyes softened anew as she took his face gently in her hands, "Forgive me, my child. I should try harder to remember that my spheres of dominion make any look of intensity on my face strike you young ones as dangerous or malicious."

She straightened her arms between them now, back on the ground at arm's length. "That is precisely what I propose, young mortal. But you misunderstand one thing. It is through my blessing that you will be able to keep her safe. I will not be keeping watch over the two of you."

She could feel the anger, despite his apparent agreement, and gave him a skeptical, side-long look. "I consider nothing done until I see it done, boy. I can go down there later to hear the echoes of your success in the talk on the streets. But I will not take the chance of drawing attention by doing the asking myself. I will wait here while you go see to this task...right now, please."

Her eyes flared briefly in response to his rejection of her body, then narrowed dangerously as he turned his back to depart into the rebuilding town below, "We will see, young one, when you return."
word count: 371
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As the man made his way in to the town, immediate regret flowed through him. This woman was an Immortal, and he had just talked to her in a way that meant he was lucky his head was still firmly planted on his shoulder. Whether she had threatened his daughter or not, her life was dependent on his. Should he be killed by this woman today, Serah would surely die too without him to protect her. All of the men in charge of looking after her were nowhere near as strong as Ryder in a fight, meaning if he struggled to kill a mage - they would surely die.
It just meant one thing had to be done - whatever the Immortal wanted. As much as his pride burned at the idea of being just a puppet, what this woman was offering was a power strong enough to protect the one thing he swore he would keep safe no matter what. Serah was his priority, she depended on him. It hadn't been so long ago he saved her, but after what the two had seen together, the mercenary knew from day one that he would have to protect her from a lot.

Finally the man entered the destroyed town, people helping around while others just walked aimlessly. Chaos had fallen here, devastation and destruction. All of this done by the man called Patrick Barnell. Now Ryder had a simple task, tell the people here who had done this and caused the devastation around. It sounded simple enough, but how was he supposed to know this information? 'Some winged woman told me in exchange for a good night' wasn't normally an effective way of persuading people.
Minding his steps, Ryder found himself by a pile of rubble that had been cleaned up, small enough to be stood on. He kept his hand on his sword out of instinct and habit, the Diri resting silently in this moment. Unless combat or training arose, she never had much to say. With a deep inhale the man readied himself, a few eyes already on him, his posture showing that he intended to speak.

"Men and women of Southguard" he spoke, steadying his voice to try and stay calm. One wrong word and he'd regret it. "I am Ryder, a mercenary that travels through and around Etzos - and I come with news. I know who launched this attack on Southguard, who controlled the monster here and caused it to destroy this place."
Ryder watched as a large crowd had gathered, clearly interested in what he had to say. All around the faces mixed with every emotion Ryder could picture aside from happiness. Anger, misery and pain. Some had a curious gaze while others found a determination to their eyes. But one thing was shared between all of the people here - they wanted blood. Blood from whoever did this. So Ryder would tell them who that blood should be.

"His name is Patrick Barnell."
word count: 499
"The most dangerous people in the world are not the tiny minority instigating evil acts, but those who do the acts for them" ~ Suzy Kassem
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Commander Norris was relaxing, and recuperating from the wounds the beast had given him. His feelings towards this Patrick character were very mixed. On the one hand, the fellow clearly stood opposed to Syroa, or he would never have been cursed by her and have these disastrous episodes of being turned into such a malevolent and destructive monster. On the other hand, if he'd never dabbled in the affairs of Immortals, and gained the witch's notice in the first place, he'd most likely not be cursed at all. Once again, the policies of Etzos were proven right.

It was more his sympathy for the avriel girl, Ellen. He wondered what it must have done to her to see her friend become so hatefully determined to destroy her precisely because she was his friend. Norris had been torn on what to do with the unconscious Patrick after they'd gotten Ymiden's ring back to being a ward against the curse. He was quite ready to drag the fool back and have him hung up for crucifixion. But he'd known that if the crowd found out about Patrick, they'd go after her as well. It was one reason alone, that he had made up the story of the beast being obliterated in the blast; so she would be left alone.

Fortunately none had called him on the inconsistency of having found enough left of Trooper Allensby, the one that had sacrificed himself to blow the creature up, to identify, where the beast was said to have been blown, literally, to bits; and be unidentifiable. But the people were more than ready to forget the beast, and embrace their martyr, Allensby, in a celebration that would become an official town holiday, once the town was rebuilt.

Norris could think of nothing he'd like better as well. Unfortunately, it was not to be...

The sounds of near rioting burst through the door, along with one of his aides, as the man came in to inform him of the incident brewing in the street. By the time the Commander retrieved his cone horn and climbed to the speech platform, the aide had told him of some stranger calling himself Ryder, who was even now informing the townspeople of the beast's identity.

Norris' hopes for the town's closure on that grim event sank. 'Damn this Ryder!' he snarled inwardly, Not only would this open the wounds only beginning to heal, it would bring rage, and doubt against his story of the creature's demise. At least he had the cone horn, so he could be heard above the initial roars and demands for explanations and vengeance. Even with the cone-shaped volume enhancer, he had to shout to be heard.

He tried to demand a presentation of facts from this stranger, but the crowd made it clear that they required no such thing. He tried to call him out as a liar, but the crowd made it clear that they felt him at least as guilty of that fault as the stranger could be said to be. He tried to ask for calm so the different stories and details could be investigated, but it was shouted down as a stall tactic.

Norris fumed at the lack of appreciation, but could not really blame them. He had put his life on the line in the face of the beast, to reapply the ring. But if he stated that fact, it would only verify that his previous claim of the beast having been obliterated in the blast was a lie. The crowd would want to know who the avriel was too, and they may well demand a dismissal of his office and put him to the question. No he did the only thing left to him.

"Very well, I stand by the will of my people. I will go with this Ryder, and we will hunt down this Patrick Barnell and drag him back to account for his crimes. And if his fate has any mercy, he will die in the process before WE can decide it FOR him."

The cheers made it obvious that the crowd had not read the subtlety of his comment. If they found this man, Commander Norris would be sure to grant him a quick death before dragging him back to be torn to pieces by this mob. He was not sure how this Ryder fellow was taking it. He seemed willing to stand apart from the crowd in this respect. If anything, it appeared to Commander Norris that this was not exactly what HE wanted either.
word count: 773
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As the crowd cheered and called out their ferocity, Ryder tried with all his will to hold back a smirk. He'd done it, easy as that. Syroa would bless him and he'd make his apology to her. After all, the man hadn't meant to lash out. Not at an immortal. Whether she was threatening Serah or not didn't matter, because it would never come to that. They were, after all, on the same side. Ryder worked for Syroa and in exchange he had safety, for him and his daughter. Nothing more mattered than that.
Yet there was one man trying to fuck it all up. Accusing him of lying, asking to prove the facts, but the crowd was having none of it. Of course they weren't. Ryder had told them all what they had wanted to hear, that the monster was there so that they could reclaim blood. Now they had a name, and anyone that knew how could track him down with that alone. Patrick Barnell had just had his death certificate signed by Ryder, and every man and woman in this crowd wanted to be the executioner.

Until Commander Norris opened his mouth yet again, proposing him and Ryder were to ride out together and find the man. "Motherfucker" Ryder thought to himself, though he didn't show it in his expression. All his expression showed was a discomfort. Perhaps, though, this was no bad thing. Ryder considered the facts and thoughts for a second. If this man truly did come with him, then Ryder had someone waiting atop the mountain that would love to meet such a man. Or better yet, Ryder could deal with the commander himself when nobody was around. After all, killing a commander would be a story Noth would love to hear.
"So be it. And I assure you, men and women of Southguard, that if you demand it I will bring you his head!" he shouted, a vicious tone to his voice. Again, what they wanted to hear. It was no secret by appearance that this man was a fighter, if the blood-red, Diri imbued sword didn't give that away then nothing would.

Ryder then made his way towards the commander, going to stand beside him. "So, Commander, what now?"
word count: 385
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It took no great reach of her influence for the Immortal to feel the emotions brewing within the two men. The steadily taxing act they put on, feigning a cooperative demeanor for the furious crowd, washed over her like a refreshing breeze. And it was spiced with the growing antagonism the two men were feeling towards each other, as they mirrored the blame they placed on the other for this necessity.

Syroa swooned in the hate the Commander and Ryder stoked inwardly as they slapped each other on the back, harder than necessary, in a furious mockery of brotherhood and noble purpose. The crowd ate it up, chalking it all up to the righteous anger any decent man would have toward the monster that had ravaged the town several trials before. The massive wave of cheering fury was like fine wine to top the emotional meal she feasted on.

Like a dance, the goddess rocked on her feet, occasionally taking a slow, basking flight around the top of the hill while she awaited her man and the victim-to-be. It was a song to her sensibilities, growing in an harmonious passion of restrained violence. But it broke all at once, as a profound realization clearly disrupted the waves of umbrage emanating from the commander as he realized who awaited them; anger turning swiftly to an apprehensive fear and defensive posture.

He swept from his horse, drawing his sword as his feet hit the ground. The fear turned to a betrayed incredulity as he roared desperately at the young man still on his horse. "You young Fool! You ally yourself with this witch? Don't you know that she is the true cause of the beast? You come into our town, feigning the desire to help, but you only serve the ends of the one truly responsible! You mock the suffering of both the dead and their families!"

The Immortal herself remained airborne as she flew in a slowly graceful stalking pattern, smiling in feigned benevolence, as the commander retreated in similar circles to keep his sword between them. "Now, now, sir. You do me a insulting disservice. What punishment I may place on one that has betrayed me is hardly a cause to find fault. Do you not punish traitors? And he had some sort of protection from my affliction as well. I will not hear you twist things to say that it was some act of mine that released the rage."

She hovered in closely enough to draw the soldier into a futile swing that she easily dodged, laughing. "I give you a choice then, sir..." and her eyes turned upon Ryder now as well with a harsh sneer, "...And you as well, my new young one." She suddenly accelerated in a circling pattern around the commander, who was quickly off balance with his attempts to maintain swings while turning to keep pace with her flight.

In short order, the winged Immortal came up behind the soldier and wrapped him in her arms, sinking her teeth into his neck, as he roared in pain and despair. He knew somehow what was being done to him. She disengaged from him and flapped slowly and easily out of his range as she taunted him into a transformative rage.

"Yes, yes, that's the spirit. Oh no, you must stay calm, sir. Just think if you were to get too angry now. Oh the poor citizens, thinking what a hero you are, only to have you return in glory to kill the rest and feast on their flesh. The wives, the children, the soldiers, looking to you for guidance. What a role model you will be as you rampage through streets newly drenched in their blood. Oh dear, are you getting upset again? No, no, we musn't do that."

It went on and on, as the commander grew ever more infuriated and horrified at his situation. He began to stiffen suddenly, trying to get control of seizures, but clearly losing control of himself. He looked suddenly to Ryder in terror. "Please! Boy. If you have even a shred of decency, I beg you, kill me before I change!" His voice was even now changing, growing deep with throaty savagery.

The Immortal hovered, her face calmed to the point of yawning. "And...therein lies your choice, my boy. Time your stroke well. Wait too long and his rage will be too regenerative. Too soon and he will not serve as the body to bring back to town in triumph."
word count: 758
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