The Daily Beasts

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Phaing
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The Daily Beasts

#1 Post by Phaing »

(( This is the IC thread for the adventure outlined here- https://twokinds.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=23&t=19320
The only thing that sets this RP apart is that everyone involved wants to get a daily fix for our RP impulses. This does
NOT mean that daily input is required, but it does mean that we all agree that we want to, and we won't get upset
with the other posters that do so, even if that means that we have to do a little catching up from time to time.
"We" includes me, the originator of this little thing of ours.
If anyone wants to join in, please contact us in the OOC thread linked above.
I take the role of storyteller, i present a cast of NPCs and give the players problems to solve. The rest is up to the
Players. In that spirit, I am leaving the initial RP posts up to the Rookie and Construct, as we have already talked
about. So, have it it guys, Let the adventure begin!))
Part one- Something Wicked ....
"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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Phaing
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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#2 Post by Phaing »

Welcome to the lonely North;

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"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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TheLoreiConstruct00
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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#3 Post by TheLoreiConstruct00 »

I hate the forest at night.

I remember running in the blinding darkness beneath the canopy, only catching rare glimpses of the fading moon or dim stars. I can remember my heart pounding in my ears and my armor rattling as I ran, but still trying to listen for faint footsteps or the hiss of steel. I remember more of that night than I care to admit. And tonight is like living it all over again.

I should have known better than to take this job. Something hadn’t seemed right but it would finally take me away from human lands. Perhaps I was greedy, or maybe just overeager, doesn’t matter now either way.

All that matters is this slice in my side that won’t stop bleeding, and the two thugs still following me from the road. Probably just some local bandits, but where they're from doesn't matter much. Didn’t actually think they’d bother with me since they had everything from the merchant’s cart, but maybe they’re just tying up loose ends. Or maybe they're upset about their three friends I left face-down in the dirt. Either way the amount of blood I’m leaving behind won’t make it hard to follow me.

Still, no reason why I should make this too easy for them.

I keep limping forward passed a tree wide enough to hide behind and then further, to next large tree. Wincing in pain, I unstrap my shield from my back and lay it down against the tree. A quick smear of blood from my wound on both the tree and the shield for detail and I set off for the first tree i had passed, sure to step in my own bootprints.

As I reach the tree I can hear the two thugs growing closer, all mumbles and curses directed at me most like. I unsheathe my sword as quietly as I can and stand as still and quiet as I am able, despite the warmth spilling down my right leg which trembles slightly. I pray it won’t rattle my armor loud enough to spook the thugs.

I hold my breath as they near the tree hiding me, acutely aware of how loud my heartbeat is. A few steps from my tree they stop and one says to the other in a harsh whisper, “Look there! That’s ‘is shield. Little blighter didn’t get too far did he?”

His companion grunts his agreement and the pair stalk forward, at a slower pace than before. They pass my tree and one make a gesture to the other and they split, one approaching from either side.

Well damn. I was hoping they wouldn’t be even that smart.

I can’t let them get too far away before I strike, plate armor isn’t meant for sneaking. The second I move they’ll know I’m here, so sooner is much preferable to later.

I lunge forward, trying to make the most of my advantage, and the sudden movement sends a bolt of pain up my side. It’s all I can do to keep my sword from slipping between my fingers as I slide it forward into the one on the left.

Despite my failing strength, my aim is true. The thug gurgles a wordless groan, a mix of surprise and pain. As he suddenly falls forward, limp and lifeless, he pulls the sword from my weakened grip.

His friend, who had turned the moment he heard my armor rattling, screams in rage and charges at me, his sword held high and with murder in his eyes.

I drop to one knee grasping for the hilt of my lost sword as the remaining bandit closes the distance quickly. He’s just about on me as my hand closes around a familiar leather-bound hilt. I pull it free with the last remnants of my strength and swing it towards my attacker.

I can’t tell if I struck him, or him me, as he crashes into me. Something heavy and sturdy collides with my head. An echoing clang follows me into the darkness...

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#4 Post by The Rookie »

(I'm so so sorry this is a bit rushed. I didn't have much time today between travelling, but I hope this is ok.)

"Where am I?"

"What is this place?"

"It's so dark and cold..."

There's no light, no warmth... Except for this blue glow at my feet..

"It's my spear? What's this doing here?"

"Sylvi" "A cold voice called out from the darkness. Mocking me... Whispering too me.. Taunting me..."

As time went on the whispering became more frequent, fasted, closer. It was all around me. Crushing me.

I grabbed my spear, waving the glowing tip into the darkness, only to be met with cruel, twisted faces surrounding me. They were laughing... Jeering... Cursing...

I lunged at them. Their bodies bursting into smoke as my spear plunged into their dark misty flesh, only to reapparate behind me. They reached out, cruelly pulling on my tail, scratching at my ears. Each time I turned to face them, only for them to strike me from behind time and time again.

They're getting closer, they're everywhere! I need to get out! I Need To Get Out!



I awoke, hot, sweaty and panicked. I was still by my rucksack, the camp fire still burning bright.

"Just another bad dream... They've been getting worse lately..."

I lay back down in my bed. The images of my dream racing through my head, but they were already starting to fade away from memory.

As I laid, I tried to fall back asleep. Though, it seemed the universe had other ideas.

I was quick to my feet at the sound of a blood curdling scream. A man in a great deal of pain, and he had to be close by. I grabbed my spear and started running toward the site of the sound. I had only made it a few metres from camp when there was a second scream. This one couldn't be too far.

As I hurried, I came across my first clue of life. A trail of blood, fresh blood, heading for the tree line.

Following the trail I came to a bloodied shield, resting upon a pine tree. Three bodies laying beside it. Two of the men, dressed as bandits and brigands, lay dead. Their wounds clean and decisive.

The third, I assume the bandits victim, laid beside them. As I crouched down beside him, I could hear he still drew breath. It was shallow and slow, but it was still their. He was alive.

I quickly stripped the man of his chest piece, inspecting the wound in his side. It was deep, and shredded, as if someone had torn into his flesh with a jagged blade. A weapon designed to kill it's victims slowly over time.

I placed my hands upon the site of the wound, channelling the mana from my staff to heal this man's broken body. Hopefully giving him a fighting chance. But he needed more than just a quick jolt of magic to bring him back from the brink.

I dragged the man back to my camp, leaving his armour and weapons behind under a fallen branch to lessen his wight. Bandaging and caring for his remaining wounds as best I could, I left him to rest by the fire while I prepared some medicines from my poach.

When he awakens, he'll be in a great deal of pain.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#5 Post by Phaing »

A light breeze heralds the first hint of winter's chill. Summer is over, a very brief fall has begun, and from here on things will be getting rough in the White fields. At least the Mosquitoes are gone, and as soon as they get their fill to eat so will the Bears.
Almost every living thing is concerned with eating in this time of year, putting on weight that they will need to survive 7 frozen months.
And that includes Wolves.

Sylvi has found a very nice camp; a shallow cave that has been used in the past by other campers. The fire-pit just outside is too large for your purposes, the smell of charcoal lead you to it past Fir trees that would have hidden it from you. Pine needles from trees growing out of the cliff overhead provide tinder and bedding for you and your patient. The real blessing is the fact that it's not far from where you found him, nor uphill, else you could not have brought him here.
A smaller fire within the cave will serve you better, if you are careful to keep it away from the pine bedding.

Something awakens you in the middle of that first night. This human you have rescued is still resting, eyes closed and breathing normally. His wounds will heal cleanly thanks to you, but he will need several days to recover enough to move. The only worrisome thing is that he has not woken up yet. No, he isn't what woke you, what could...

Down among the trees where you found him, you hear sounds that you wish you hand't. Yips, barks, growls, and not a single spoken word. You have heard about Feral Keidran, who has not? But when was the last time anyone saw a Pack of them... and lived to tell the tale?
The good news is that you can't really see them yet, and hopefully that means they can't see you.
Hopefully...
The wind suddenly picks up, and your fire grows much brighter. Ah, but they could have smelled it already, and the light shows you a pair of Yellow eyes glaring at you among the trees. You are being measured.

After a moment (a few heartbeats, really, and a little slice of eternity) a decision is made. Fire plus a Keirdan armed with a spear and able to put her back to solid stone equal too much risk for too little reward.

The wind blows harder, much harder, the trees start to sway and the Pack apparently decides to move off, taking what they have not finished eating with them. There are other places to shelter from the coming storm, and as none of them are close they most move quickly.

Sylvi can catch a glimpse of them through the trees as they bend to the force of that wind. Three at least, maybe more. They are not what will, perhaps, keep you up for the rest of the night. No, there is something worse, unexpected, and strange. As one of the little trees waves in the wind, for just a second you see one of them standing up. But no, not a Wolf-like body at all, only Humans stand that tall and straight. Ferals don't wear cloaks, no mater how ragged, and they certainly don't use walking sticks.
The tree waves again, and in the blink of an eye, it is gone.

((the storm will last for days, but there will be a few clear patches here and there.))
"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#6 Post by The Rookie »

"No rest for the weary, eh." I muttered, curling up by the fire and placing my spear beside me. After everything that's happened tonight, there's no way I'd be able to sleep again. Not safely, anyway.

I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees as I gazed into the flames. A million thoughts racing through my head.

Who were those ferals before? Did they have families? Loved ones who'll never know what happened to their husbands and fathers? What happened to them to turn them wild and cruel?

Feral is a hushly spoken term amongst our kind, and with good reason. To lose what gifts the Mask gave us that separates us from the beast, was a fate worse than death for some.

A sound catches my eye as I watch over the human I found in the woods; struggling with his own daemons. Shuffling in his bedding slightly, grunting and moaning before calming down once again. He seems like a tough one, but he has a ways to go before he's able to move.

I wonder if anyone's looking for him? The man in the cloak perhaps?

One thing is for sure though. It going to be a long night...
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#7 Post by TheLoreiConstruct00 »

I was standing in darkness, it was absolute, soul-crushing darkness. A thick fog swirled around me, enveloping my lower body. The plate mail I wore was dirty and pitted, as was my short sword. My sword arm ached and my shield was missing, there was no sign of it anywhere.

I could hear the sounds of a forest. Not these quiet northern forests, but the rich and full of life southern forests I grew up in. It was so familiar, so comforting. And I was terrified.

Cautiously, I started forward through the fog. It parted slowly, revealing thick green foliage beyond. The forest even smelled like home, with the scent of fresh moss and the blossoms of spring. A full moon, albeit in a cloudy night sky, was visible between the branches overhead. I swept my sword before me as I walked, my eyes trying to see into the dark woods around me. As I stepped over a fallen log I tripped over something hidden in the still-receding fog, I barely caught myself before falling face-first into the undergrowth. Glancing back I could see something I recognized right away. A boot. Not just any boot, Mitchyll’s boot.

My heart leapt into my throat as I turned in circles, my eyes scanning the forest until I saw it. He was only a dozen paces away, half hidden in the lee of a nearby boulder. His boot wasn’t the only thing missing. His sword was nowhere to be found, along with his shoulder bag. As I drew closer I could see the blood in the darkness. Mitchyll’s throat was a ragged wound, the front of his leather jerkin was soaked in crimson. I fell to my knees before his body, unable to take my eyes from his placid, ghost-white face. He is too young to be dead, I thought lamely, this cannot be true.

Suddenly, there was a heavy rustling of leaves behind me.

I spun on my heel, my sword flashing out as I did - just as I had been taught - and I felt the sudden impact in my arm as my sword found its mark. The clouds parted, allowing enough moonlight for me to see my victim’s face. I recoiled in horror, tried to let go of my sword but my hand was frozen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t feel my heart beating in my chest. The forest was suddenly silent, as if the world had known what I had just done.

I looked down on the small, feminine figure impaled on my blade. She was so small, so frail. Her head slowly, haltingly lifted and looked up at me. Her eyes focused on mine, her mouth opened just as slowly. Words came out, words I couldn’t understand. And then, suddenly, she was silent.

My mouth opened. I screamed. I didn’t stop. The fog swirled around me again, coming from all around. It smothered me, choked me, my scream became a wretched cough. I couldn’t breathe again, and I knew this was the end. But I fought it anyway, pushing through the mist, gasping for breath-

-as I sat up abruptly, knocking off the blanket that had been draped over me. I gasped and heaved for a moment as my mind cleared and my memory slowly returned. The road. The bandits. The forest.

The memories flooded back to me, and with them a dull, throbbing pain in my side. I ignored it for the nonce as I took in my surroundings. I wasn’t dead, yet, apparently. I was in some sort of camp, in a small cave, with an equally small fire burning close by. My armor is missing, as are my weapons, but if someone had wanted me dead they would have had ample opportunity by now.

Turning my head, I can make out another figure sitting by the cave’s entrance. I try to move, but the dull pain flares into a blazing fire burning into my side. I lower myself back onto the rough ground, eyes screwed shut against the pain. When I open them again, my vision is swirling and I can feel what little strength I had fading. I’m not sure what’s happened, but I know I’m alive. Perhaps by morning I’ll have the strength to stay awake.

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#8 Post by The Rookie »

I heard as the human tried to rise from his bed, only to collapse once more. I hurried to his side, hoping to be able to get a few words out of him, but it seemed that he had lapsed back into a deep sleep.

I checked his wounds to make sure he hadn't undone any of my hard work to keep him alive, but nothing seemed to have been torn or opened. I applied fresh bandages and medicines to the man's side, before pulling up the blanket. Hoping it'd be enough to keep him comfortable.

"It'd be a shame that you'd made this far only to be killed by a cold." I quietly said, unsure if he could even hear me.

I looked back out to the entrance of the cave. It was still dark out, but day break couldn't be more than a few hours away. I placed my self back by the fire, taking the opportunity to start reading a new book I'd brought from a travelling merchant.

Day will soon come, and with it, new challenges to face.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#9 Post by Phaing »

TheLoreiConstruct00 wrote: Perhaps by morning I’ll have the strength to stay awake.
Dame fortune rules that it's a given that you will. :wink:
Movement, however, is not such a great idea.
The Rookie wrote:I looked back out to the entrance of the cave..
Its isn't much of a vew. During a rare break in the cloud cover, the moonlight is not much competion with the light of the fire you have blazing;
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As described earlier, the trees do a good job of hiding this place, from eyes. A keen sense of smell is another thing, and Sylvi also discovers a sealed clay pot full of Pemican. Not the most desirable or tasty food, but enough to see you though for a couple of days.

The coming day brings rain, sleet, and even some freezing rain. Nobody in their right mind would be eager to go out in this weather, but at least you are not marooned in this place all alone....
"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#10 Post by Phaing »

The Human has not recovered conciseness, but he seems to be healing normally. It is possible that he had been pushed past the point of exhaustion before he was even wounded, but if he does not wake soon his healing may be hindered by hunger.

Sylvi is exhausted too, and she will have to sleep eventually. And fate being what it is, during one of those naps, company arrives.

Humans should not be able to move like that, so swift and silent. Their scent would have given them away, but they are wearing wax-coated doeskins, what little scent they give off is that of nice harmless Deer. Three of them, one with a crossbow trained at you.
Not directly at you, they are a little confused, the grimaces fade as they get a better look at the man you have been tending. Bandaged and braced, it is obvious even to them that you have been trying to heal him up. The trio was wearing masks of rabbit fur, and one flips his aside as he crouches over the warrior. He has a dark face and a darker beard, he glances at you and asks "Why?"

The man with the crossbow squints at you. "Look again, Rence, she is SNOW-wolf." he shakes his head one quick jerk and sheds his mask as well, one made for warmth instead of concelment. "The question is, what in the hell is she doing here, and why did she eat those other guys outside.

The 3rd man has said nothing, he hangs back a little, with a spear in his hands.
"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#11 Post by The Rookie »

Sylvi was startled beyond words as she woke up in the midst of her interrogators. "What? What's going on?" Sylvi asked in a panic, as the first man removed his mask, scurrying backwards on her hands and feet until her back was up against the cold stone of the cave wall.
Scary Bloke 1 (Rence?) wrote:Why?
Sylvi looked over to her human patient, still sleeping soundly through the intrusion. "H-He was hurt... I couldn't just leave him to die in the snow." she answered through panicked stutters. "I t-thought it was the right thing to do."
Scary Bloke 2 wrote:"The question is, what in the hell is she doing here, and why did she eat those other guys outside."
"Eat?!" Sylvi cried, sickened by the thought. "I've never eaten anyone!" she cried out in anger as tears begging to swell in her eyes. "I've never even hurt anyone before." she muttered as she started to sob quietly.

She was certain she was going to die any moment now. The man wielding the spear hadn't spoken a word, but he seemed to stand ready to deliver a deathly blow at a moments notice.

'This was how my journey will end', she thought to her self 'Lynched for a crime I didn't commit.'
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#12 Post by Phaing »

The Rookie wrote: Eat?!" Sylvi cried, sickened by the thought. "I've never eaten anyone!" she cried out in anger as tears begging to swell in her eyes. "I've never even hurt anyone before." she muttered as she started to sob quietly.
"Shut yer' mouth, Nappy."
That was from the 3rd man, who is not taking his mask off. He has a spear, and he keeps glancing at your Spear. His is not as nice as yours, it is a Boar spear with no wood, just a 5-foot shank of squared iron for a handle. It would be a hard weapon to hold without gloves, his are a curious combination of chain mail and leather... as is the rest of what he is wearing.
"Even I can see she's no Feral."

Scary Bloke #2 rolls his eyes and grunts at the man with the spear. "You don't know how things are done here, so stay out of it!" And his eyes go back to the Lupusand. "My full name is Nappy Groff, and the man looking over your handiwork is Rence Walla. We are Deputies... might be better if you forget you ever saw the Gent in back of me with the impudent mouth. Now, miss, quit your ballin' and tell us what DID happen here. Don't hesitate, don't think about it, just tell it straight and tell me right now."

Rence Walla is going through the pockets of the man you healed. "Nothing, just money, damnit!"

The 3rd man shrugs and peers into the deeper part of the cave, which isn't much of anything at all.

Outside is at least one horse, you can hear it snort some ways off.
"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#13 Post by The Rookie »

"I-It was the middle of the night. I heard s-screaming, so I went to investigate." Sylvi said, trying to regain some composure as the marshals listened. "I... I thought someone was hurt, so I went looking for the site of the sound. When I g-got there I found him lying amongst a pair of dead bandits." she added pointing to the patient. "I brought him back here, and I've been by his side ever since. Even when a pack of-" Sylvi took in a deep breath as she realised what had happened. "The ferals." she muttered "T-There was a pack of ferals who came through here last night." Sylvi looked up to the man known as 'Nappy' "T-That's what you're after, isn't it?" She asked "The pack of wolves who came through here.. They killed someone, didn't they?"
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#14 Post by Phaing »

"Now, don't you be worried about that." Nappy puts the crossbow over his shoulder and sighs. "You just happened across this fellow and decided to help out a man you didn't know, and who obviously has a history of violence... just like that?"
He does not seem to find it very believable.

Rence looks up from the pathetic little pile of things that he found on and about the warrior's person, and shrugs at Nappy. "Not a clue, but his gear matches the breastplate and sword we found out there would fit the scabbard. This ain't no bandit."
"If you’re going to tell people the truth, you'd better make them laugh; otherwise, they will kill you."

-George Bernard Shaw

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Re: The Daily Beasts (open)

#15 Post by The Rookie »

Nappy wrote:"You just happened across this fellow and decided to help out a man you didn't know, and who obviously has a history of violence... just like that?"
"Why not?" Sylvi asked the man quietly. Her voice shifting from one of panic and fear to something slightly more sombre and collected. "The men he killed were bandits. It seemed like he was defending himself, like I'm sure any of us would." she said looking over to the warrior as Rence searched the man's body for something.

Sylvi properly sat against the stone wall, rather than continuing her panicked squat. She brought her knees close to her chest, warping her arms around then as she rested her chin on her forearms. While it seemed as if she was just getting comfortable, Sylvi was moving into a position where she could quickly access the pockets on her chest, if needed; hoping that her new guest had failed to notice the mana crystals on her person.

"C-Can I ask what you're doing here?" Sylvi asked the men quietly, barely louder than a whisper.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

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