• Closed • The Rotten Apple (Mute)

[Vorpal]

I

n the calm, unexplored depths of the Hollow Sea, a large silhouette drifted thoughtfully along on the mild current. The Daughter of Despair, Chrien, rarely ventured out of her lair. However, tonight she was drawn to the waters surrounding that curious island, Scalvoris. Of course, this island would reflect the intriguing nature of her elusive creator. Fei's fracture ran deep within the island, and the bitter Immortal could sense its trace effects in the water. It was a familiar and comforting energy, but not enough. It wasn't her mother.

She had tried, and was trying everything. There must exist a way to bring back the Original that should not have been lost. However, even with her cunning mind, all her experiments seemed to come up short. The Mer had been a failure and a costly one at that. Chrien ran scaled fingers over the shimmering cracks that ran along her flesh.

All of a sudden, searing anger and frustration welled up inside of the Immortal, causing her to thrash wildly and claw at invisible enemies. Above, the cold seas churned and the wind picked up enough to scour flakes of ice across the shoreline. The sudden storm was enough to send the few fishing boats still out on the water scurrying back toward the safety of land. It was an offense she didn't miss.

Rising up just enough so that her crowned head breached the rough waves, Chrien glared at the glittering lights of a small village with her beady eyes. Humans. Those gormless, disgusting parasites that leeched off of her creator's grave. Why should they live so close to her? What did they know of her mother? Nothing, that was what. They lived their simple, insignificant lives in ignorance. It was enough to make her gut churn.

Yet that wasn't all that there was on that island. She too had her pawns. While she herself wasn't able to leave the water, with cursed U'frek out of the way, now was an opportune moment to make use of those so eager to carry out her will. Sliding quickly through the water under the cover of the freak storm, Chrien approached the shore.

"Come, my child," the monstrous Immortal called out, in a strangely motherly tone. "I have more work for you..."


Arc 718, 92nd of Zi'da
Along the old wharf of Havardr, locals and fishermen gathered early in the morning. Many of them whispered worriedly in each other's ear while some of them tore away from the observing crowd, running off to spread the news. Linca, the village chief, stood at the forefront, exchanging hushed words with his fellow leaders.

"How can this be happening?" an elderly looking woman with graying hair hissed urgently. Her eyes were glued to the cold, bloodied body of what must be a local fisherman. The corpse's expression was frozen in disbelieving surprise and fear. His chest was marred with numerous stabs and gashes.

"This is getting out of hand. Three attacks in as many days. Get the body to the surgeons hut, and someone send word to Scalvoris Town," Linca said firmly, taking charge.

"They might not be able to send help, you know." The elder woman muttered a little sadly.

Linca placed a hand on her shoulder and started guiding her back toward the cluster of yurts in the distance. "We'll do the best we can. We've got to put a stop to this. Until then, no one sleeps soundly."

The chief veered away on his path, set on gathering key members of the community. Things needed to be discussed, and plans made to sort out what was turning out to be a terrible distraction they couldn't afford as the cold of Cylus bore down upon them.

Off Topic

Information
I will post again on the 28th of October.
Your character may question potential villagers milling about.
Please don't control the NPCs.

Objectives
Think of these as helpful guidelines...
- Explain how your character comes to be in the village. (For example, called there as official help, heard a rumor, happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.)
- Decide whether you will look into this matter in an official capacity. In which case you must meet with Linca at the Chief's office.
- You may have your PC visit 2 locations this turn. (Or just one. Or none?)

1. The wharf
2. The surgeon's tent
3. The Salty Barrel, a local inn
4. The Whaler's, a local eatery
5. The Chief's office

- Enroute, you may choose to pick up a small item that catches your character's eye.

[Mute]

"Silence Reigns . . ."

Every once in a while, I'm offered a courier job that required me to travel outside Almund. I wasn't always keen to the prospect, especially in the colder seasons, but sometimes the pay was too much to pass up. A man needed to eat, it was said in situations like this one. Plus, it gave me a chance to visit the village of Havadr again. I had visited the place once before and had enjoyed the visit. It was different from my urban upbringing and it didn't hurt to escape the looming walls every once in a while.

Though as I came to quickly suspect after my arrival here in the village, Havardr was not an escape these trials. The people weren't as jovial as I remembered them and there was an air of unease that hung over the clumps that crowded the common area of The Salty Barrel. I couldn't even find a seat when I came down from my rented room, so I settled in against the wall listening to the snippets of conversation. There was talk of another body found, the third one now, and that Linca was seeking help from Scalvoris Town. The tension was palpable.

Death had come to Havadr, but from what?

Linca would know more, that was for certain. Despite his affinity towards the Immortals, I thought the man decent and deserving of any help he needed. I only ever met him once, but he seemed like he cared for his villagers which wasn't always the case in leaders. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a man like him one my good side in case I needed favors down the road. With a decision made, I ducked out and headed out the door.

Linca's office was just as crowded in the early morning, but I was just able to squeeze through the door and step to the side of the room. Thankfully, I was a head taller than the locals surrounding me so I didn't have to struggle for a line of sight. Part of me wondered if the chief would remember me at all; the last time we were together, he was totally and utterly drunk . . .

Ah, but that was a story for another trial.

[Vorpal]

H

avardr was indeed abuzz with negative energy as Mute headed downstairs to the Salty Barrel's commons. People seemed to have crowded in to huddle together for safety, regardless of whether they were renting rooms there or not. So, standing by the wall Mute was able to hear pieces of conversation closest to him.

"They don't think these are accidents anymore, then? Even the scare down at the Whaler's? They usually don't serve bad food. Well, not enough to down a local anyway." One of the local women peered nervously at her friend's expression. Her friend, however, seemed pale and distracted. "Maria?" The first woman tried again.

"What? Oh... A stabbing is hardly accidental. But who says they're all connected, anyway." Maria said, wringing her hands.

As Mute stepped out of the room, he almost crashed into someone who was heading in. Surprisingly, the other man was just as tall as he, and modestly well dressed.

"Pardon me," the stranger said, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement of the accident. He stepped aside for Mute to pass and held open the door as he did so. He seemed the frail sort, with the dark circles under his eyes, but the rest of his mannerisms managed a sort of grace. The man disappeared into the inn as the door swung shut on its own.

Continued here