• Event • Moondream

Stronghold of education and learning, this fortress is in one of the coldest areas of Idalos and home to many knowledge seekers in a variety of disciplines. However, unknown to most, below the city are those who suffer for the sake of science. While all are welcome, not everyone will be treated as they expect.

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Djinn
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"I never said my wishes were supposed to do any good," said the Djinn...
91 Zi'da 717
The Tundra north of Viden


The tent was not well insulated, that was the first thing to note. The Eidisi in the tent did not seem to mind, but this cold was different than anything the others had ever experienced, even those from the frozen north. Except one man, who'd felt the chill of the most bleak winter once in his life, and had barely survived to tell the tale. First Ranger Alucard Prynn, thirty-nine, sits by the entrance to the tent, surveying the sleeping bodies. A grisly scar splits his face, where an axe attempted to make its way through the density of his skull and into the soft squishy part beneath. But not Alucard, no. He was a survivor, and when he'd awoken in the tent, along with the four others, he wondered how much longer he could ascribe himself that title.

All of them had been moved overnight, though some further than others. The two Eidisi, residents of Viden, had only gone a mile or so north of the city to the makeshift encampment, but the other two, residents of Rynmere, found themselves a long way from home. Alucard watched them as they slept, moving silently and without moving much of the tent to survey each closely, learning their faces before he’d ever learn their names. Faces didn’t lie, especially in the throes of dreams, and the First Ranger knew all he could without speaking to them in mere bits. Five packs in dull grey burlap rested on the edge of the tent, but everything else was sparse. It was obvious whomever had brought them all together had planned it ahead of time. Immortals knew, it was probably a suicide mission.

The first to stir was Caius, who never slept much anyway. Still, he felt as if he’d been asleep the whole season, and awoke feeling refreshed. Smelling the cloying scent of menthol tobacco, he turned to see the grizzled First Ranger smoking a pipe at the mouth of the tent, the lip folded back a few inches to allow the smoke to escape without letting in the biting winds. It failed on both accounts.

The man’s piercing blue eyes skewered Caius as he sat upright, but his expression never changed. The three women roused quickly after, Yolande first, then Darcyanna, then Maebella. As each one did, Alucard smoked his pipe and stared at them each in turn, saying nothing. He gave them the chance to gather their surroundings and ask questions of each other before interrupting, pointing at the packs with the charred black wood of a pipe stem.

”A’right, yuhs. S’posin’ none o’ yuhs’re up to speed on why we’s here, eh?” The man’s voice was gruff and deep, and it was obvious he’d been smoking that pipe longer than a few of them had been alive. When none of them did, he nodded.

”S’bout right then. A’right, here’s the deal. M’name’s Alucard, an’ I’m the First Ranger o’ Viden. Dunno as ta why any o’ us’re here, but I can bet it’s gotta do with them packs. So, rouse yerselfs, roll up yer sleepin’ bags, an’ let’s go. Map’s on the wood thingie here, an’ it says north.”

Direct and to the point, Alucard was never one to mince words. He could take the time to learn their names, their homes, their talents, their dreams and aspirations, their secret fantasies and how much their mommies loved them… Or he could see them safely to their destinations, and if they died on the way, not have to give a eulogy on account of not knowing any names. It was a foolproof strategy for the old Ranger who’d buried more men than the four had collective arcs of life.

Picking up his pack, he emerged from the tent, allowing in a bite of icy air and a swirl of snowflakes, each melting as it landed on the skin of the four in the tent. In the distance, a snow wolf howled, and Alucard answered, the sunslight showing his shadow through the meagre fabric of the tent as he cranked his neck back and howled high. Nothing answered him, and the four in the tent were sure if that was more chilling than if something had.

Once they were packed and equipped, they exited the tent to see Alucard already pulling from the ground the stakes holding the ramshackle shelter to the frozen ground. Southward, they could see the very edge of Viden on the horizon, gray and dull against the sunslight from the distance. Pointing a hand missing a finger at it, Alucard drew their attention.

”If’n ye think yer here by mistake, start yer walkin’ that way. It’ll take ye two trials, but ye’ll make Viden ‘fore ye run outta food rations. I checked. Otherwise, yer agreein’ to keep each other safe down there. If’n ye don’t, I’ll leave ye in the Tundra meself, believe ye me.”

With that, he spun and started marching off towards the north, a frozen expanse of emptiness. He’d never ranged as far North as the map was instructing, but whomever had left it clearly indicated where they were going. Unwilling to show the map to the other four, Alucard memorized the clear handwriting above a cave drawing: “Treid’s Sanctum”. The First Ranger set a breakneck pace, hoping to make it to the Sanctum within two trials.

But it was frigid, and the four behind him weren’t trained in fieldcraft. 1 in 5 rangers die on an expedition in the Tundra.

Alucard prepared to bury them all.

"In fact, I swore they would always do as much harm as possible."
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Caius Gawyne
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Moondream

91.

Zi'da.

717.


"Fates, it's cold." Groaned the ignorant northern noble, the grip of sleep far stronger than he was used to, the rare weight of the only dream he'd had for trials still clinging thickly to his senses. The extreme temperature his body slowly found itself aware in was strikingly similar to the bleak, icy landscape of that very dream. Moving to stretch, Caius realized the chill was real, the scent of tobacco nothing like the familiar comforts of his small hearth at ho—

"Sarding hell. What in the—"

He was up.

Sitting up. Confused. Struggling to free himself from a sleeping bag he'd never owned and sure as the Seven hadn't fallen asleep in. Stared at by some scar-faced, grizzled old thing who'd already decided he was trash by the look on his fekked up face. The cold clawed at him and he only knew one place in all Idalos that had made him long for the warmth of home—Viden. But the pair weren't alone and Caius couldn't shake the icy grip of his dreamscape because in the tent, stirring after him, were all three familiar faces, disconnected by time but known to himself, only one of which could currently be accused of haunting his usually sleepless nights in all the most inappropriate of ways.

This wasn't going to be one of those dreams, was it? No. He was definitely awake. And that smoking hulk of a man was not at all invited. Too bad.

The young Gawyne considered it his place to speak up, but he found he had no sarding clue was to say, stupid cold in a place they didn't fall asleep in, the only connection to each other as far as he knew seemed to be himself. He didn't even know how they got here ... not unless that scarred up grizzly creature had kidnapped them. He may have looked the kidnapping sort, especially by the way he stared at them. Was this his fault? Surely not.

Finally, Caius cleared his throat, chilled fingers curling into unkempt hair as he looked to the other three who weren't strangers to him, his pale silver gaze washing over all their faces to settle on Darcyanna's last,

"I'm sorry." Were his first words, as if he anticipated someone's accusation, but he had no explanation to give. No more than anyone else, if asked. He would introduce them to each other, if the Eídisi of his past allowed him to do so or if the Venora of his present gave him a chance. He'd do his best to juggle what was happening in conversation, though his curiosity distracted him greatly and his gaze kept straying to the only other man in the tent until he finally looked at them and spoke up.

The man, Alucard he said his name was, was talking and the northern noble was attempting to put things together: thoughts, words, feelings. His shit. All of it. Trying to get his shit together. But he couldn't, and whatever the scarred up Ranger was saying, Caius was afraid to take it as truth,

"The fu—here?! Where in Idalos is here? By here do you mean Viden? I'm in Viden—we—we're in sarding Viden? How'd we get here? How'd you get here? You can't just go kidnapping people without repercussions! I'll have you know—" The young Gawyne trailed off then, heart in his throat, tripping over the pack Alucard pointed out in his eagerness to see the map he spoke of, though he couldn't be arsed to give the rude, rough hewn bastard his name if he was just going to be such a prick right out of the gates. Instead, pale blue eyes lingered on the map and his momentary indignant surprise at their location faded into a single word,

"Shit."

He knew why he was here, but Caius said nothing. He had no clue why anyone else needed to be.

Gritting his teeth, he'd roll up his sleeping bag like an obedient child, sorting the metal type of his thoughts into their proper compartments, desperate to put the Ps and Qs in the right places. He'd then go through what was supposedly his but wasn't, hoping for more warm clothes than anything else. Whatever he found in the pack, he would attempt to make sense of it all, to categorize what seemed useful and layer on whatever hope he could find. Viden in Zi'da was sarding fatal, but he needed something to focus on in order to process whatever was actually happening, feeling like he was freshly set type and someone had ripped the galley tray from underneath him. Scattered lead on the floor. He longed for something familiar, even his saber would do, but also in typical fashion he longed for his notes—

"I'm not here by mistake."

Caius said boldly, aware that those words were immediately and consciously separating him from the three women he knew, "I don't have a sarding clue how I got here, but I know I'm here for a reason. I can only choose to trust the rest of us are, too, though I'd have my Fates-be-damned reservations about you if it weren't for your obvious, uh, experience. Or something like that."

Alucard, by virtue of his rugged appearance and obviously superior outdoorsy, combative skillset clearly considered himself the self-proclaimed leader of their otherwise studious collective, and his rough-hewn speech only served to rub the northern noble in all the wrong directions. If the scarred Ranger knew no more than the other four of them, then he had no sarding right other than perhaps the force of his meatier fist to assume his position. The young Gawyne was quite sure there wasn't enough layers to protect from the cold of the farthest north in Zi'da, and the thought of losing fingers or toes to frostbite horrified the printer's diri beyond what limited, calloused words he could summon ... and that was, quite honestly, the least of his sarding worries.

The kind of weather outside the tent, the actual temperature that greeted his northern, hardy, Gawyne self stole more than just his breath but clawed at his wits, stinging his eyes and wanting to crawl into his lungs and end their function without a hint of apology.

What was the sarding date? Somewhere in the back of his too-busy mind, he already knew. But, again, said nothing.

He understood now, staring at the bleak landscape ice and snow, the hint of what could have been Viden proper on the horizon, what the date in his dream meant.

It meant Oliver Venora would never get to kill him.

"Just a damn moment. Let me sarding see that, arsehole." Caius hissed, shrugging off the man's promises that they could just walk to Viden for two trials in the deadly cold and forget about whatever the hell was happening. He brazenly ignored the larger, older man's threats to leave them all behind in the Tundra because obviously he could have sarding done that already and he didn't. Either he felt he needed them or he was really, really stupid. The threats only irritated the terrified, worried, confused young Gawyne more, and while he both wanted to stay near his friends, he also couldn't just let some stranger walk all over him. He'd pursued this singular obsession for nearly an entire season!

Wildly, utterly out of his element, the northern noble felt as though his mind was melting like snow in sunlight—right out of his mouth. Nothing was familiar, controlled, reliable. Nothing was expected. And everything smelled horribly of danger. He had no point of reference, and Caius made his inability to cope painfully clear with the confused haughtiness that oozed from his very pores.

It wasn't every trial one fell asleep and woke up so far from home. His ink-stained fingers would attempt to reach for the map Alucard seemed to selfishly want to keep to himself, the printer's diri unwilling to allow himself to be intimidated by the beast of a man though he knew he should have been, "Don't hide that from us. What's on there? I bet I know—Treid's Sanctum? I've been researching for ... well ... a while. I found this book and—sard it all. You don't look like the book type, anyway. Who the Fates do you think you are? Telling us to sod off just because you feel you know what the fek you're doing. You clearly don't or else you would have abandoned us in that damn tent before we even woke up. And you're going to have to slow the hell down—"
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Heyyyy ladies. Not the face, okay?
Last edited by Caius Gawyne on Tue Dec 19, 2017 4:50 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 1505
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Darcyanna Venora
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91st Zi’da, 717


Darcyanna tossed and turned, frowning in her sleep and curling closer into the covers. It was so cold, had the fire gone out? Shivering, the young pianist stirred enough to wake up, knowing she had to light the fire if she was ever going to sleep again. Opening her eyes, the blonde felt the strange witching trill of being disorientated when awaking in an unfamiliar place.

A tent.

Women. One rousing, one still asleep.

A man, tall and scarred and totally a stranger.

She didn’t get to Caius before fear and panic gripped her, gasping and kicking her way out of the blankets to stand, looking around wildly.

“Get away, get away from me!” The Venora said hoarsely, her voice still catching up to her awake body. The blonde saw him finally looking at her with bright blue, and without hesitation she moved to him, the sorry of his voice doing naught to quell her panic. Had Pythera finally got her? Had she taken them both. Shivering both from the painful biting cold and the terror, her wide dark eyes took in the strange man as he spoke.

His words, whilst no more of a true answer as to their reason for being here, they did confirm that he was not from The VII. Not Pythera.

Her heart started beating again.

Moving to the pack, she nodded to the other women whilst opening it up. Viden? How in the sarding name of the Seven did they wind up in Viden?

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Darcy. Darcy Venora.” What else was there to say really? They were all in the same truly bizarre situation. Digging into the pack she found a thick plain winter dress in a no no frills ivory color, warm flat winter boots and a white thick hooded cloak. Snowy colors. Pulling the dress over her slip that she slept in, Darcy tugged on her boots whilst Caius let his frustrations fly before stumbling on his own pack. Drawing the cloak around her, the blonde moved to mimick the others, rolling her sleeping roll with difficulty and tying it to the pack. Standing to examine the map, she frowned before moving to stand beside the Gawyne youth.

He knew why he was here?

Before having the chance to ask even why the taller printers apprentice thought that, she listened to him rage again with pursed lips. Caius, as far as she’d known him to date, did not rage. He was a thinker, a scholar, intelligent. At the moment, insulting the only one that seemed to be able to survive here seemed about the least intelligent thing to do.

“Caius...” Darcy began to say softly, gasping as the tent flap was drawn open and both Alucard and the Gawyne walked into the bitter cold. Fates, how the fek were they going to travel in that? Moving to lift her pack with a grunt and carry it on her shoulders, she paused as the howl of wolves reached her ears.

She jumped when their strange leader howled back.

Shoving her way through to the cold wintery world, Darcyanna sank into the snow slightly, having to trudge a little to follow the now very rude, very flustered blonde.

“Caius.” She tried again, hurrying to catch up now he was clearly ranting. As she reached him, the pale Venora grabbed his arm to stop the student and turned him firmly.

“Caius! Enough! Let’s not get the big scary gentleman on our bad side, shall we? Alucard is clearly none the wiser in this situation then us, but a whole sarding lot better suited for it.” Reaching up to press a hand to his cheek, the scared and confused shorter woman held his gaze.

“Just, breathe.” Demonstrating for a moment, in and out slowly, ignoring the stinging cold of the air, Darcy smiled. Looking at the two other women as though to gather strength in numbers, the blonde turned to trudge quickly after the scarred leader.

“Ser Alucard? What is Treids Sanctum exactly, do you know?” She directed the question to the older man, unsure if Caius was yet in a frame of mind to explain the unexplained.
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91 Zi'da 717
Her senses awoke slowly, sensations registering at different rates as she regained full consciousness.

The first thing she felt was the cold, a chill that was so intense that she knew she couldn't be in her bed at the Academy. After that came sound, the shuffle of others around her, a voice that was familiar to her, tickling at the edge of memory as she groggily pulled herself into a more wakeful state. As she blinked against the light, she inhaled deeply, the cold air seeming to burn on its way in, dragging an offensive odour in with it.

Maebella snapped fully awake, sitting bolt upright and then shuddering as the sleeping bag slipped down, letting the chill air at her chest and back. She clutched it to her, gazing around in bewilderment at her unfamiliar surroundings. A sleeping bag, not a bed, and the cloth sides of a tent rather than the solid walls of a room. Not only was she in a strange place but she had no idea how she'd gotten there.

Her gaze flicked to a scarred man who was smoking some sort of pipe - the source of the smell that had disagreed with her - and watched them with a calm intensity, as if there was nothing unexpected here to shake him. However, he seemed to be the only one who seemed unfazed as an obvious confusion pervaded the air. There was Yolande, who she hadn't seen since earlier in the season alongside another woman who she'd never set eyes on before, a blonde human who was just entering a state of panic as she observed. Then she caught the silvery gaze of a man she hadn't expected to see again.

"By Yvithia..." she gasped, unable to believe the evidence of her eyes. Caius Gawyne, the Rynmere noble who had been one of her first real friends, the first man she'd had feelings for, the first-

She shook herself, trying to free herself of illogical emotion before it could take hold, trying to distance herself from the impending pain. The young man wasn't the first person who'd ever abandoned her but he'd been different than anybody else she knew. There relationship had been something unique to her but it hadn't been the same for him. Caius had abandoned her and the Eídisi had actually mourned him as if he was as good as dead. Given how she'd felt about him before, she was surprised to find herself angered. In fact, when she saw the way the blonde woman reacted to the nobleman and how they looked at one another, she found herself well and truly pissed. The temperatures suddenly suited her humour quite well.

Her white eyes moved to the scarred man as he began to speak, curiosity distracting her from the depths of her rage as her mind fired with a wild array of thoughts and questions. She knew of the First Ranger of Viden, or at least, she had heard the title before but wasn't really sure what it meant. However, it was the fact that none of knew why they were here, not even this man, that truly shocked her.

How did we all get here? How could we all have gotten here without knowing it or knowing why? she wondered, although she couldn't deny that that seemed to be the way things were. It was something that made her feel incredibly uneasy; she didn't like the uncertainty of this or the number of unknowns.

Alucard gave them orders and the Eídisi acceded willingly, considering it wise to trust the First Ranger who seemed to have an idea what to do in this situation. So she followed his instructions to the letter, getting herself up despite the cold and the desire to snuggle up in the warmth of the sleeping bag. She went to her pack a little apprehensively when the blonde pulled out a dress, an item of clothing of which she largely disapproved, considering it was impractical for cold weather as far as she was concerned. Unlike Darcyanna, Maebella had gotten a blouse and a pair of trousers along with sensible boots and a heavy cloak.

As she rolled up her sleeping bag to put it away, she watched Caius' odd behaviour with a frown. The nobleman said that he didn't understand how he'd gotten here but he knew why he was here. It wasn't some wishy-washy 'everyone must be here for a reason' type excuse either. He spoke like someone who understood exactly what was going on, even if he didn't fully grasp the particulars. She regarded him through narrowed eyes, wondering if he'd reveal more without her having to interrogate him.

The First Ranger stepped out, allowing the true chill of the outdoors to worm its way inside and she followed him out when she was ready, gazing around her with slowly dawning horror. They were north of Viden, in the Tundra, in the colder part of the country. She looked incredulously between the First Ranger and the distantly visible city. "I'm not walking back to the city. I'm not insane; I'm not going to practically guarantee my own death. If I go with you, I have a higher chance of survival," she reasoned aloud, nodding grimly to the grizzled older man in acknowledgement of his authority then she rounded on the Lord.

"You're going to explain yourself to me, Lord Gawyne. You're going to explain yourself to all of us. You clearly know where we're going or you understand why we're going there. You aren't as surprised about this situation as you ought to be. So why are we going sarding north in the sarding Tundra? You've turned up out of the blue all the way from Rynmere - unless you've secretly been back in Viden - and you seem as if you know more than any of us about what's going on, even this Alucard. So explain yourself or I'm probably going to curse at you with the same enthusiasm that you usually curse because it seems to be a language that you understand quite well," she told him coldly, a tic in her lower cheek twitching when she stopped speaking.
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Yolande
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91st Zi'da 717

"Speech"
Yolande was very much a morning person, and was used to waking up in darkness to the cold of an unheated house and the promise of a steaming cup of tea. Mornings were, usually, a blissful kind of pleasure for the quiet, studious woman who rarely did things simply because they were pleasant. It was precisely why she almost considered that cold, blustering tent as just one very vivid, uncomfortable dream. The other reason was because she knew two of the people that were in the space with her. The young man, Caius, and another Eidisi, Maebella. Both of whom she'd met in the library, and quite recently too. Both of whom she'd met under enough of an unusual circumstance to bother remembering.
But the others... well, they were a mystery.

Thoughts of hot tea and porridge were lost like a fleeting breeze as conversations (if you could call the accusatory and prickly discussions 'conversations') rolled across the interior of the flapping tent. Everyone seemed to know one another, in one way or another. In fact, the only stranger to them all was the one who introduced himself as 'Alucard', the gruff and grizzled man Yolande barely registered as the First Ranger. Yolande went to reach for her book and ink half in a daze, ready to quickly jot down the situation they were in and make notes of where they were and why... and that was when reality brashly clanged her awake. Why were they here? How was she here? This was a kidnapping, of sorts, although it was clear the Alucard was not the one that had brought them here, and neither had any of the others as they all seemed as confused and put-out as she felt. The old man began to explain, although she found herself frowning at the gap between his obvious skill and all of their obvious ignorance. It was odd, stupid even, to go following a map without any clue as to who had put them all together and why.

The lack of understanding and knowledge of all the parts of this strange collective of people made Yolande ill-at-ease as nevertheless she began to pack up her bedroll and put it into the pack that she didn't recognise, but must have been hers by process of elimination. Alucard began moving and packing, but she stayed quiet as everyone spoke and had their say, finding each reaction somewhat illuminating of their characters. Caius raged but it seemed like bluster. The other woman, Darcy Venora (a name which Yolande hastily committed to memory in lieu of the journal that was her usual companion), seemed almst soft-spoken, but Yolande watched as she packed carefully and acnowledged that at least she was sensible. Maebella well... She didn't speak until Maebella finished, the young Eidisi's jaw clenched with something like frustration or even anger. Yolande finished a vicious shiver that ran the length of her spine right to her cold but now-booted feet and levelled her cool gaze at Caius. "What is it that you know but we do not? If you would care to share I'm sure it would benefit us all. Although Alucard seems eager to move, I'm sure we can all discuss whatever is going on here as we pack up."

It was true. Yolande, now fully dressed in the cold weather gear from the pack, walked to the tent flap with the others and trod into the bracing cold air. Her feet crunched in snow, and she sheltered her eyes from the glare. Viden was surely somewhere in the far distance, only two trials if the First Ranger was right (and he undoubtedly was), but it felt like a lifetime away. She was not a student, but she was studious nonetheless, a woman of book learning, research, and the comforting confines of the library and the solid stone walls of Viden's protective embrace. As a young girl, adventure had never called for her like it had done for others. Her adventuring was found in books and documents.

But this wilderness was thrilling, and she hated it for the way her heart beat faster at the scent of excitement and dread that whistled through the chilly atmosphere surrounding their band of unlikely adventurers. Once more, she felt a pang of desire to write down something, anything,
in her book, to explain the bizarre set of circumstances that they found themselves in. But she did not have it, and could not write. Instead, she stood next to Caius and looked over his shoulder without any sense of embarrassment to gaze at the words on the map. Out loud, she murmured with utter wonderment, "Tried's Sanctum!" That they had anything to do with Tried gave Yolande an even greater thrill than the fear of death by blizzard or ice in this hostile environment, for it meant that something truly amazing were to happen. A new sense of respect filled her for the people she was with. In one way or another, all these people, these strangers, had something to do with Tried. Whatever was to happen, Yolande would give these people her trust. Or at least, much more trust than she would give anyone else. "First Ranger Alucard, before we depart and before we discuss this matter, what must we do so we do not die out here? I cannot speak for Darcy Venora", she tilted her head to the woman in acknowledgement, "But we three are not rangers. We are, unfortunately, at a disadvantage, and I would wish for that disadvantage to be lifted somewhat. If you would."
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Djinn
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"I never said my wishes were supposed to do any good," said the Djinn...
91 Zi'da 717
The Tundra north of Viden


Alucard stopped in his tracks, gritting teeth rotting from too many years of pipe tobacco and poor dental hygiene. The grinding hurt him, but not enough to shake the grizzled veteran from his place of anger and insult. Turning slowly, his wild eyes fell on the defiant Gawyne, piercing through him like a ballista bolt, the weight of the First Ranger's ire putting pressure directly on Caius' shoulders. Opening his mouth to rebuff the boy, he was stunned instead by Caius' knowledge of their destination?

How'd he know? Ken the little fekker read m'mind? Alucard thought clearly, staring at the Gawyne to detect any possible change at the thought. When he saw none, he took a threatening step forward, only for Darcyanna to step up behind Caius and reprimand him. Once again stopping, he observed the two, and a slight smirk built on his cracked old lips. The way the girl spoke to him told Alucard that their relationship was more than just being distantly related through the Seven's incestuous bloodlines. Additionally, they had been intimate, and the girl spoke to the recalcitrant noble boy with the same affection and irritation a lover would.

"Listen here, an' listen good, ye little fekkin' nancy boy. Ye an' yer little girlfriends're gonna do whatsoever it is I say, because if'n ye don't, yer gonna leave yer bones in the Tundra as yer Seven-damned souls walk the fekkin' world. Ye understand me?"

Glaring at Caius, the First Ranger's voice rose so that they could all hear him, with no Fates-damned excuses as to why they shouldn't. Turning the ice-blue eyes onto each, not wavering even in the exotic and disconcerting all-whites of the Eidisi, Alucard addressed the group before they would continue.

"Ye's wanna know howta not die? Keep yer fekkin' eyes open, do what I fekkin' say, and for the love of the Seven, shut yer fekkin' shit-filled mouths." The last portion was obviously directed at Caius, and once again, the First Rangers eyes fell on him. Leaning in, so that only Caius and Darcyanna, who was close to him, could hear, he spoke again.

"I dunno how ye knew where we're goin', but next time ye have a fekkin' observation, shut yer fekkin' gourd." He stared at Caius, the rancid scent of his rotting teeth and tobacco filling the young noble's nostrils and sending a wave of nausea through him. Standing again, he turned and surveyed the vast landscape, sighing. In the very distance, he could see their approximate location. Sighing a second time, more of a huff actually, his gruff voice sounded again.

"Aye, then. Since this bastard child of Sintra's bulbous arse can't keep his prissy mouth closed, aye, Treid's Sanctum. Ain't got any idea what we'll find there, only know that's where the fekkin' map leads. Since ye seem to know the whole Seven-damned world, do ye wish to lead, My-Fekkin'Lord?" He growled at the boy, but did not wait for a response. Instead, the turned and began his trek deeper into the glacial wasteland. As they walked, Alucard began to speak, spouting exposition to fill the time.

"I been First Ranger likely longer'n some o' ye been wiping yer own arses. An' never in my Fates-damned life have I ever woken up, freezin' my damned grapes off in a fekkin' tent with some whiny nobles and blue girls. I mean, not without drink'n first." He chuckled at his own joke, but immediately resumed his sour mood after. "So I'm thinkin' we're supposed to be goin' to this fekkin' place, and once we're there, we'll find another map or some'p."

He shrugged, his broad shoulders obviously moving. Trekking through the ice was no easy feat, and it took them the better part of the day to do so. The pace was grueling, with Alucard stopping for a bit or two to allow them to pull the hard tack out of their packs to gnaw on while they walked. Made of some sort of oat and sorghum concoction, the treat was sweet and filling, but took as long to eat as any meal any of them had ever had. Alucard broke a tooth on his, but he just spit out the chunk and kept marching. When the Sanctum grew close enough to see features, the First Ranger stopped.

"Karem's hairy cunt... There it is." He stopped, the dark mouth of the cave offering literally no hint as to what lied inside. Turning back to the group, the flesh of his face flushed red, except around the scar, accentuating it like an aura of remembrance. The light in his eyes burned like a bonfire, and they could see the excitement welling in the First Ranger.

"Any o' ye any damn good with a blade? Or a axe? Or any fekkin' thing that isn't yer wit, or lack thereof?" He asked, frowning at Caius for a trill too long. "Because if not, all of ye stay the fek behin' me, or I'm gonna let whatever's in that hole eat yer fekkin' head, and I won't weep a single tear ta Vri's emotional arse for ye." He grunted, drawing his sword, and inched towards the cave.

This close to it, the chill in their bones caused them to ache. It seemed to emanate from the cave, coming in waves of crashing cold, seeping through their gear. It was a supernatural cold, pulsating and ethereal in their bones. Each of them felt more exposed, and more closely linked, than they ever had. Except Alucard. It was like the cold didn't bother him in the slightest. He was a badass.

"In fact, I swore they would always do as much harm as possible."
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Caius Gawyne
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What do you know that no one else does?

Why are we here? What have you done?


What had he done? Dammit. What had he really done?

Fates, what was happening?

Caius found himself surrounded by questions, voiced from faces he knew. Yolande and Maebella he'd studied with, been friends with, and, well, known while living in Viden. Why were they here? How did they get here? Darcyanna, well, perhaps she was here simply by virtue of vicinity to his person. But none of it made any sarding sense. A rising feeling of panic consumed him at their questions, as the cold gnawed past his outer layers and sought to crush his bones. The Tundra north of Viden in Zi'da was just not the place for a human, for anyone, really. Not even a Gawyne.

He pulled on all the layers he found in his pack—two shirts, gloves, a scarf, and his fur-lined coat. In the pack were a few other things that he didn't recognize as belonging to him, including something that might have been some kind of traveling food, a dagger, and a pair of ice-climbing clip ons for his boots. Why the Seven would he need those? Desperate to find solace somewhere in the bottom of his pack, desperate to suddenly wake up back in his small residence on Rynmere University's campus, desperate for this all to be a bad dream or a weird hallucination, he paused before answering the barrage of questions from everyone else,

"I don't sarding know anything—this was all just a theory, just research, Mae. Just a few sentences in some folio of pages that needed sewn back into a book, Yolande." He hissed at the familiar Eídisi women, not at all ignorant of the look Maebella gave Darcy, of the weight of all of their gazes on himself. He had no clue how to deal with the emotions that could run through the four of them—he could hardly handle himself, so tenuous was his grip on reality and sanity.

"This is too soon!" He groaned mysteriously as if that answered everything before he turned and chased the First Ranger out of their tent and cursed at him over the map.

Just as he was to catch up with the grizzled beast of a man, just as his ink-stained fingers were reaching for the map, Darcy snatched him, tugging at his attention, turning him to her. Pale irises shifted blue and he focused on her face, seeing her fear and confusion, feeling the weight of everyone's same emotions burden him in the way that only he seemed able to bear. He frowned at her, biting his lip, whispering again, "This is too soon, Darcy. I'm not ready to be here. I'm not ready—"

To die.

Only he didn't say it. He just looked at her, blinked at her, ached under her touch. Caius shrugged free from her hand on him to glare back at Alucard just in time for the man to crush his shoulders in his grip, and he shuddered in a confusing mixture of rage and fear. They held each other's gaze, Caius' jaw set, expectant for the scar-faced beast of a man to have something important to say. Grunting under the weight of his roughness, the man's words dragged more defiance out of the northern noble, not less, and his heart burned like a roaring fire,

"Sard that. All of it. I will not keep quiet! You're not the only creature with a brain out here in the fekking cold." He hissed, his breath a thin cloud in the wind, "You're all not supposed to be here. Not you. Not any of them, either. You should take them back, Alucard. I've known where I am going for almost a whole season now, I planned to come here one day ... but I wasn't sarding planning on coming here for quite some time. You won't silence me—if we all want to live, you need someone who's at least marginally smarter than whatever weapon attempted to make your fucking face pretty. They missed, by the way, but my mind is sharper than you think. You may know how to survive in this Fates-be-damned place, but I'm not going to shut up just because it pleases you, ser. If I have an observation, if any of us have an observation, then you'll sarding listen. This is not a fucking monarchy."

Caius growled his words, the wildfire in his chest threatening to consume him, "Treid's Sanctum claims through history to be a source of true knowledge, but that's all I sarding know that's important for you and everyone else. The only other thing I know is personal, unfortunately." The young Gawyne paused, looking to the three he knew in turn but ending his gaze to linger on the blonde Venora, his words very carefully chosen, spoken with a shiver in the cold, his eyes a churning mix of pale colors, "I wasn't ready to come here and meet my end. Not with an audience. Not yet. This is too soon, but it's too late for that now. Perhaps, somehow, like a broken compass, I'm wrong. Or confused."

He weathered the rest of Alucard's threats and insults, refusing his sarcastic offer to lead, attempting to abdicate to the man with a superior survival skillset. He grew quiet after his revelatory admission, knowing that perhaps only two of his companions would even understand what he was talking about—Mae and Darcy—but also knowing that both of them would probably find ways to tell him he was wrong as well.

He didn't want to make conversation when walking, but he knew he would have to. It was cold, even for the Gawyne, and he struggled to know how to keep everyone safe, how to help everyone keep walking in the Tundra, how to follow a man who set an excruciating pace for a quartet of academics in such a horrible place. Caius had nothing else to say, stuck under the judgmental views of Mae and Yolande, Alucard and most likely Darcy as well.

The travel was excruciating, even for the northern noble, but he made it his job to help everyone else as they needed it. A hand here, an arm there. He was used to the rough weather of Gawyne, but the Tundra north of Viden made even Umbridge pale in comparison. Assuming their scar-faced guide cared little for their survival, Caius chose to make attempts to assure that everyone else at least had a chance even if he worried he himself did not. It was far colder than he was used to, whatever the hell they stopped to eat was difficult and time-consuming for something so simple, and all he could think about was dying—a thought he'd tucked away his whole life, the whispers of his natural death something easily forgotten buried under research for Professor Verigan or sweating it out in the print room of the Gazette or in the arms of a particular pianist,

"I don't want your Fates-be-damned tears. I'd rather us attempt to keep each other alive instead. Together. To-fucking-gether, Alucard. Not a hard job, for a First Ranger. Surely."

The young Gawyne refused the rest of Alucard's baiting once they finally arrived at the mouth of the cave, but he also didn't back down from following him. He sarding well was at least passable with a blade, but he wasn't about to give the grizzled First Ranger any more ammunition against him. Instead, his sharp blue eyes strayed to the man's weapon, studying his blade for future reference, preferring instead to reach for Darcyanna's hand if she'd hold it. He'd rather stay close to the Eídisi women he knew and the blonde, for despite the supernatural cold that gnawed at his very bones until he actually hurt, Caius didn't actually want to die alone.
Last edited by Caius Gawyne on Fri Dec 22, 2017 2:02 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 1371
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Darcyanna Venora
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91st Zi’da, 717


Darcyanna blinked as neither of the women introduced themselves in return, figuring that perhaps it was the way of their people, but then the first rounded on Caius viciously. She spoke in a way that the blonde realised meant she knew the Gawyne, perhaps intimately. Caius had never said anything about her, and yet it was almost impossible to notice the bite in the woman’s voice. The pianist looked between them, her brow drawing slightly. Why she was here was well and truly beyond the Venora, but it seemed everyone was pointing the finger at Caius - even himself.

The other woman, much quieter and less explosive had her two cents to say to the taller diri as well, and Darcy couldn’t help but feel like the third wheel in a very awkward situation. Treid’s Sanctum, she knew from Caius he had been looking into it and she knew partially he had suspicions it related to his tattoo, but she wasn’t truely aware of what it was. Glancing over at Yolande as she spoke to Alucard of their definite lack of skills for this task, the blonde Venora shot her a small smile of gratitude.

As she was brushed off by the taller man, the pianist frowned. Too soon? Too soon for...for what? Had he expected this to happen, like the other women had accused him of? Curling her fingers into her coat with a sort of despondent sigh, Darcy paused to think.

It was short lived however, as the First Ranger turned in them with the full vile brunt of his colorful vocabulary. Darcy didn’t consider herself proper as such but by the Fates if her ears didn’t want to bleed from the onslaught. Caius continued his tyrade at the man, dropping snippets of information that began to sink in the blondes stomach. Snippets that couldn’t possibly be true.

His end?

“No, no this can’t be...you can’t be...” Her voice trailed off as the pieces fit together, whisking away the breath in her lungs as though someone had punched her. Looking at the two other companions, she placed a hand on the arm of her partner.

“Caius this can’t be it. Let’s just...see what is ahead. Maybe it’s not what you think, maybe it’s another piece of the puzzle. Maybe...” It was clear she was grasping at straws, unable to truly believe this was the day Caius Gawyne would die.

Crunching through the snow, the Venora kept her thoughts to herself as they pressed on, afraid of putting her own emotions out on the table with the fragile and terrified Gawyne, or the foul mouthed Alucard, and neither of the blue women had come forth as a friendly ear to talk to.

This couldn’t be it.

Taking the warm hand where it was offered, Darcyanna looked at Caius with a frown.

“I’m not going anywhere, do you hear me Gawyne. I’m not going sarding anywhere and you are not meeting your end in this boghole of a place.” The Venora has no survival skills to speak of, but she would not let him go out alone. She would not give up on him, not unless someone dragged her kicking and screaming.

When they reached the cave, Darcy looked at Alucard with a shake of her head, huddled in her thick cloak to stave off the bitter biting cold. Fates she was not made for this! She was glad for the Ranger to go in first, worried bright blue eyes scanning the cave as they entered.
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Maebella had sought answers but instead of providing them, Caius decided to give her a highly cryptic reply before running off. The noble seemed to be too wrapped up in himself to give a satisfactory reply to anyone and she wondered if the others were as frustrated as her. She didn't know Darcy at all but she tried to share a look with Yolande. He seemed inclined to make demands and be argumentative, which given the temperament of the First Ranger, wasn't likely to go down well. The Eídisi had thought that he was more intelligent than this, that he was above this, but apparently that wasn't the case.

While the two men decided to be incredibly aggressive to one another, the young woman watched them with more than a little disgust, wondering if they were going to start wrestling in the snow. She eyed the blonde woman who'd seemingly come with him from Rynmere. She had a certain bearing to her, and Maebella wondered if she too was a noble. Regardless of what she was, it was clear that herself and Caius were... close. It made her heart ache to see the way they looked at one another, to see the way that he always addressed her last and more directly than the rest of them. In fact, it seemed that when he wasn't trying to make Alucard smash his face in that he was speaking only to Darcy and that the rest of them were mere ghosts in his mind, an afterthought.

She'd caught the woman's curious glances her way as well as a little confusion so it was possible that she had no idea of the history between Maebella and Caius. She could hardly blame her for unwittingly garnering his affections without having any idea of his past liaisons. Darcy couldn't be blamed and as such, it wasn't fair to be nasty towards her. After all, she knew how it felt to be blamed for something that she hadn't intentionally done. However, before she could move her earlier coldness, the nobleman's tone changed and she found herself staring at him as he talked. The First Ranger's goading and perhaps the barrage of questions from everyone else had finally pushed him to provide some answers so of course, he had her rapt attention.

Her eyes shone with excitement as he described Treid's Sanctum as a source of true knowledge. It sounded like an Eídisi dream. It wasn't necessarily a fountain of information but if it had knowledge that was untainted or unbiased by the opinions of others then Mae would be glad to learn anything that she could get her hands on. Of course, the fact that she'd never heard of it before and that it was far to the north of Viden suggested that it hadn't been often visited. Someone had obviously been there and survived or they wouldn't even have a name, nevermind a map, although she wondered that she'd never heard any stories about it before. It was secluded, it was hidden and there was clear danger in trying to get there. She didn't need the First Ranger or anyone else to tell her of the peril of such a journey; she could see the path of snow and ice that lay ahead of them, could feel the bite of the chill air and how it swirled flakes of snow around so that visibility was more difficult. However, talk of going there was made more frightening by what else the noble had to say for himself.

When they had first met all those seasons ago and been extremely rude to one another, she'd asked him all manner of questions about his heritage. She'd noted his colour-changing eyes - a feature that Darcy also shared, she realised - and had wondered if he was fully human. He'd disclosed his rather colourful genealogy including his descent from Ziell. When he'd mention his powers of prognosticating, she'd teased him about being able to see the future weather and he'd countered by saying that he could foresee his own death. The how was a mystery but he knew the when and where. If he said that he was due to meet his end here...

The Eídisi found herself shaking her head in denial. No, he couldn't die here! Not now! But logically, she couldn't say that it couldn't be so. She didn't know the workings of the world. There were Immortals and magic, each following laws of nature that she couldn't fully grasp. She couldn't deny their existence or their abilities so when he'd said he could predict his own death, she'd believed him. She still believed him.

"Caius... you'd know though, wouldn't you? If you're uncertain then surely, it's not a definite thing," she pointed out sensibly although there was a tremble in her voice. She was angry with him, certainly but that didn't mean that she welcomed his death, especially not when he'd just come back into his life, strange though the circumstances were. "If you aren't certain about it then it can't be fixed. It must only be a possibility. We're all dealing with the possibility of death by travelling further north so perhaps it's that. Perhaps it's only the threat of death."

Only, such a stupidly inadequate word. It made it sound so light and inconsequential but really the idea of death terrified her. She'd been born into death and close to thirty arcs on, she was still feeling the repercussions of it. Death was no trivial thing.

They were forced to hold off on conversation or at least have it severely limited as they set off after their reluctant and cranky guide. The pace was fast, or at least as fast as they could manage for their sorry band given their inexperience and the weather. Initially, every step was difficult as she was forced to lift her snow-laden feet out of the powder again and again. Soon though, the soft layer gave way to a frosty rime as the newly fallen flakes froze almost instantly into a solid mass. That didn't mean that the weight of a foot couldn't send you cracking through that layer, leaving the edges of the newly made hole jagged and painful to pull one's out of it again.

When they stopped for something to eat, it came as a relief to her tired muscles and cold-numbed limbs. Of course, once she actually stopped to rest, pain had a chance to properly seep into her limbs so that they seemed to cramp and ache as she sat, struggling to eat a ration that seemed as hard as they ground they occasionally stamped through. A few sorry attempts to bite it soon gave way to her smashing the thing against the ground to try to break it into smaller pieces so she could leave them to soften in her mouth. It was a difficult and oddly messy business but it did help her to make some more reasonably-sized pieces that she could suck on and tentatively try to chew as they moved on. The brief break only made the return to movement harder as she was now fully aware of how much her legs hurt, a fact that was easily noticeable with every step.

As they trudged on, she found herself near to Darcy and so she reached out to tap the young woman on the arm. "Hello. I'm sorry if I came across as rude earlier. So much has happened..." she shrugged. "I'm Maebella by the way. Caius calls me Mae, which I suppose is less of a mouthful. That's Yolande," she explained, gesturing to the other blue-skinned woman. With her introduction done, albeit rather belatedly, Mae nodded towards the noblewoman and then purposely turned from her, making it clear that she had no intention of making conversation. The trip was gruelling enough as it was without wasting her much needed breath on idle chit-chat. Besides, she didn't think that Alucard would approve of them talking.

When they reached the dark mouth of a cave, the First Ranger let out such a string of colourful swears that the woman's eyebrows scaled her forehead although she made no comment. Instead as he started baiting Caius again, she sighed, wondering if the two of them would ever be able to focus on the task at hand without clashing with one another. The noble seemed far more level-headed this time but she prodded him in the arm, perhaps a little harder than necessary in spite of the layers she had to have her finger felt through. Her white gaze fixed sternly on him.

"Even if you can use a weapon, don't rise to this. If there's a possibility that you could die, please try not to rush to meet it," she told him, her tone holding something of a ring of an order before she turned away again, positioning herself in a way that would allow the First Ranger to protect her. Shivering at little from the almost supernatural chill that seemed to emanate from the cave mouth, she called out as loudly as she dared to the man that led them.

"What is it you expect ahead of us, Mr Alucard? Or are you merely being cautious?" Mae questioned.
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"I never said my wishes were supposed to do any good," said the Djinn...
91 Zi'da 717
The Tundra north of Viden


The First Ranger stared at Caius, a mocking grin splitting his face and revealing rotting teeth. Cold eyes, more frigid than their surroundings, pierced through Caius like a spear, not immobilizing him with fear but speaking to his very soul about the dangerous ground he was treading on. Alucard understood, of course, the young noble's position, but there on that frozen rock, there was nothing any of them could do. They were there... Except...

But not Caius. Alucard wasn't sure why, but he knew the rude noble has his place. All of them did, except the quiet one. She hadn't contributed much, and Alucard assumed she would slow them down. Still, though, one stone around his neck at a time. The First Ranger's rueful glare had not subsided, and he took a step closer to Caius. Close enough to smell the putridness of his breath as it wafted from the First Ranger's growls. With each word, Alucard struck out, not punching Caius but instead slapping the sides of his head in rapid succession.

"Shut. Yer. Fekkin'. Mouth. Runt." Each word, each blow, knocked Caius back a bit. He was not seriously hurt, but his world spun for just a moment as he stood there. Alucard's glare pierced him a moment longer, then shot to his girlfriends. No more anger, simply determination. Straightening himself, Alucard snarled.

"I don't give a fek about yer fekkin' ties. Treid's Sanctum, some repository of fekkin' knowledge or no, is where we're goin'. I don't give a damn about yer quests, or destiny, or whether yer fekkin' ready. We're here, an' the three o' ye who haven't shut the fek up so far are makin' me consider throwin' myself into a frozen lake. So, for U'frek's frozen grapesack, shut the fek up and listen."

How many times was he going to have to tell the upstarts to hush? Looking to Yolande, the girl appeared far too light for her blue skin. Having spent enough time around Eidisi, he understood her fear and trepidation. Something in her gaze warmed him, only slightly, to her plight, and he reached into his bag and grabbed the small crystal shard he kept in there. Debating with himself, he kept his hand there as he explained himself, looking at each.

"What do I expect? Yer a fekkin' bookish type, aren't ye? I'm expectin' for whatever lives in that hole to look at us like dinner, of which I ain't intendin' to be. So if'n ye can't use a godsdamned sword, I expect ye to play the part of pansy an' stay behind me." He sounded incredulous, like Maebella's question was a very affront to the First Ranger. As he looked down at the pack, the map he had slipped from his pocket, rolling forward and unrolling in the snow.

As it rolled open, the entire canvas of the map was blank. Not just blank, but looked as fresh as fallen snow. There certainly was no map on the roll, no landmarks or a compass or anything. Just empty vellum, too pristine. Scowling, he hastily scooped it back up, but not before all four of them had the chance to look at the non-existence of its content. He knew Caius would be angry, but his eyes instead went to Yolande, whose blue skin was nearly white. Sighing, he pulled the crystal shard from its place in his pack, walking to her. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear, then retreated.

Yolande slipped from her hands the mittens that were provided in her pack, shaking hands gripping the crystal directly. She whispered something that the rest of the group couldn't hear, and disappeared in a flash of white light. The crystal shard fell to the ground, and Alucard dipped low and scooped it up, sniffing it before offering it to Maebella. He shrugged.

"No more magic, but it is sharp enough to save yer fekkin' life." He grunted, unloading it on the girl. He offered no explanation as to where Yolande went, instead starting the trek towards the cave. Without looking back, without doing anything, he just trudged forward. There was no more time to waste, and the only quick escape route they had was just used up. The temperatures were dropping, and they needed to get inside the cave.

Alucard never looked back to see if the rest were following.

"In fact, I swore they would always do as much harm as possible."
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