Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[Hopeflower]

Arsenic lifted one shoulder in an uncomfortable half-shrug. I'm not sure of anything at this point. All I know is she knows more than we do. At that moment, Ohanzee dug his claws into the mute's thigh and Arsenic hissed between his teeth. The cat's blue eyes were locked on the approaching bird of prey, ears pressed flat to his head.

[The Kingpin]

Almost as if reacting to the cat's defensiveness, Shiryaz spread his wings partially, head tilting in a 'what did I do?' gesture that would've been comical if not for the fact the cat had probably left a few bloody cuts in Arsenic's leg.

"Shiryaz, we talked about this," scolded the Knight, the bird simply turning to face him with the same pose and gesture, tilting his head the other way this time. Furling his wings, he began to slowly walk towards Arsenic's leg, craning his neck so that he stood high enough to stare at the cat. His movements were slow and meticulous, the two ear-like feathered crests standing vertical, the eagle curious about the cat's skittish habits. Ever so slowly, his beak got closer to the cat. "Shiryaz!" said the Knight, a couple of clicks and a whistle following that, the bird tilting his head to fix him with one amber eye. "Come here," he said. The bird looked between the Knight and the cat, taking a step towards Andruil, but settling to stand between the two chairs, still reasonably close to the feline, but not disobeying Andruil.

"Sorry, Arsenic. It seems he's in a curious mood," apologised the Knight.

[Hopeflower]

Arsenic pointedly lifted Ohanzee and set him on the back of the chair to avoid the cat bolting in terror and giving him another, deeper set of scratches. Ohanzee's neck craned to an almost ridiculous degree as he fought to keep Shiryaz in his line of sight. 'It's fine. I've had worse.' The deliberate understatement was followed up by a thoughtful, 'Maybe it'd be better to shut Ohanzee in Vix's room when we know you're going to be here.'

[The Kingpin]

"I don't think Shiryaz actually means any harm. I've trained him not to hunt indoor animals, cats included. But there's no controlling his curiosity," said the Knight as the bird likewise craned his neck to look around Arsenic at the feline.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

Wintry white stretched in all directions. The trees themselves were covered with the stuff, making them seem like a part of the scenery until you were about to walk into them. The sky, in contrast, was clear and blue; the sun's gaze turned the winter wonderland into a blinding mess, every surface reflecting a powerful sheen.

A lone figure was all that dared to interrupt the pristine landscape. Clad in her sanguine coat and hat, the red woman stood in stark contrast with the environment. Despite this, she made no attempt to mask her presence.

She walked with clear purpose, the deep snow doing little to stop her advance. Strangely, a steady stream of steam wafted from her head and shoulders, as if her red-hot attire was actually ignited.

Despite this, she seemed unhurried and unconcerned.

She had received a new request from those responsible in Brodudika - to survey the area here in this secluded, perpetually-white wood. She did not know exactly what it was that they wanted from her, but was assured the task was nonetheless important. The job was not exactly her forte, but the importance of the matter made it difficult to turn down. If she wished to establish herself in Brodudika - to give herself a consistent living - this would likely help her standing more than any mere odd job.

[C S]

Rutgers stopped walking and turned around to observe the ground he'd covered. The trees grew denser the farther away from him they were, the branches and trunks becoming some kind of tunnel in sense. Though sunlight fell upon him through the empty canopies, he couldn't see where he had entered the forest, the harsh light an opaque screen this far into the trees. The snow did not help the dazzling, disorienting quality of this unfamiliar woodland.

There did not seem to be any sign of the... dog, or whatever it was. It could have been a mirage, or more likely, a hallucination. A long time of traveling with little to no breaks will do that to a man. Rutgers lamented that this wasn't the best time to be losing control of his faculties, however. Not when danger was crawling after him--

Something else gave him pause. The ex-ranger spun in place, the trees a white and brown blur. A thick scent was in the air, distinct from the cold air and the surrounding timber. Not a bloodfiend, but undeniably blood related. The possible explanations ran through the man's head as he peered into the woods in search of the source. A predator nearby just fresh off a kill seemed like the culprit.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

If she were a lesser creature, Pamela would have given up long ago. It was clear that the powers-that-be in Brodudika had some important intent with the area, but as far as she could see, the place had no such remarkable qualities. Her keen senses could pick up a number of living creatures in the vicinity, but nothing that seemed to stand out. No settlements were known to exist in this region. In the truest sense, it was a land of nothing.

She was not inclined to give up so easily, however, and continued onward.

[C S]

Rutgers asked himself, what were the chances that something out there was able to make a kill close enough for him to smell it, but far enough away for him to not hear a peep of the struggle. The forest seemed scarce of resources as is, and both predator and prey seemed far removed from this frozen waste. At least, of the natural variety.

Bloodfiends behind him, and something else ahead. Maybe it was that dog-thing after all.

Just his luck, Rutgers noted mentally. He slung his carry-on over a shoulder, one-handing the handles while his other hand brushed his pelt aside to rest on the hilt of an axe. Once more into the breach, he pushed forwards, steeling himself.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

The red woman stopped.

Something reached her senses, just as the wind shifted. Although she identified several woodland creatures meandering around her, this was...different. As she started in the direction of the source - because any lead at this point was worth investigating - other, vaguely familiar scents reached her. They were faint, but getting stronger, coming from the same direction.

[Hopeflower]

'Even so, there's only so much we can do to convince Ohanzee of that.' With a last stroke to the nervous cat's spine, Arsenic twisted back around in his chair.

"Here we go," Vix announced as she backed out of the kitchen, carrying two mugs and a plate of leftovers as only one who had practiced long and hard at it could. She crossed the room to hand Andruil what was left of that morning's breakfast - some eggs, bread, and dried fruit - and gave the assassin and the knight their tea. It wasn't long before she'd retrieved her own mug and the journal and joined them by the fire.

Arsenic murmured his thanks and settled back again, set to relax for a while. Well, assuming nothing came up.


Rowan drew her arm back for a last frustration-fueled throw, only to find her hand caught gently and the dagger removed from her grip. She was halfway through whirling around to throw a punch at whoever had decided to grab her when their identity registered.

Akando stared back at her calmly, barely reacting to the fist stopped inches from a nasty left hook. It was hard to spot the concern in his expression even when Rowan knew to look for it. "You'll catch your death out here."

The scarred woman slumped. Of course Akando had felt the need to stop her. "I'm doing it again, huh?"

A neutral hum. Akando stepped past her to retrieve the blades that were stuck in the target. "Go inside," he ordered, not entirely unkindly. "Get warm. I'll come and find you later."

"Yes, Akando." Rowan sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, then shuddered violently, suddenly aware of just how cold she'd gotten. Yeah, she really had been pushing herself too hard. If she stayed out here much longer, she really would get sick. That was something she couldn't afford right now. So, as quickly as she could manage in what felt like a half-frozen state, she started to head back from the training field.

Akando didn't watch her go, but he did sigh quietly and begin methodically yanking the daggers from the frost-encrusted target. It was times like this that he wished the assassins under his watch would watch their limits. Rowan was as quick to get stubborn as she was with her swords, especially where her family was concerned. It often manifested as misplaced anger or frustration, and it was something he worried about every time she took a job.

And yet...it might be something he could use, if he could figure out a way of helping her channel that energy into something less destructive to herself.

[C S]

The odor was so strong. The pang threatened to make him lightheaded, his mind overtaken by memories and imagery dipped in scarlet. Oh, he definitely was not in the proper state of being to deal with this. What this encounter held in truth, it was something quite beyond what he was used to, surpassing the likes of snakes with limbs. It terrified him, and the horror of what he was to face only pulled him resolutely towards it.

He, of course, had to prove that he was even worse. Once he had a place to set his things down, his axes would descend upon this unknown and tear it asunder, and order against the things lurking in the blackest shadows would be maintained. With this dedication driving him on, a rage building deep within, Rutgers stepped through the treeline towards the red shape against the expanse of white.

His feral stare was perturbed when he came to realize, this bloodsoaked figure he was set on slaying... was a woman. Outwardly no different from any other, save for her striking style of dress.

"What blasted devilry is this?" Rutgers deadpanned as he came to a stop a few feet away.

[The Kingpin]

"Thank you, Vix," said the Knight with a warm smile as he set the mug down on the table between the chairs before digging into his breakfast. He tried his best not to seem too starved, but being truthful, his trip had been a rushed affair, and he had not brought supplies with him. A foolish decision. His trip to the desert had made him misjudge just how much winter had advanced through the Eastern Kingdoms. He had intended to go hunting along the way and feed himself like that, but instead, he'd had very little more than a single goose he had had to split between himself, Pyranex and Shiryaz on their way here. Of the three, the latter was the one most satisfied. It was probably why he hadn't flown off as soon as the Knight arrived at the inn.

"So tell me, what did you get up to while I was away?" he inquired between mouthfuls.

[Hopeflower]

"The usual," Vix answered with an easy shrug. "A little terrorizing, a little evading." She took a long sip from her mug, burning her tongue but needing the steadying moment. Her fingers traced nonexistent patterns on the journal's cover, giving away the nerves under the flippant tone. "Some stealing."

'They grow up so fast,' Arsenic remarked to nobody in particular, smirking when Vix scowled over the rim of her mug.

"It's not like I'm going to make a habit of it," she muttered.

[The Kingpin]

"Those poor people," teased Andruil with a smirk, before downing an egg rolled in a piece of bread. The ghost of a frown crossed his features for a moment, brows furrowed as he took note of Vix. It was not so much her presence as the little details about her presence that drew his scrutiny. The fact she seemed to down a rather large mouthful of scalding hot tea, the patterns she was tracing on the book with her, the way she was holding her mug; it was enough to concern him.

He took a sip of his tea under the pretence of washing down the last mouthful of food, testing the temperature of the drink and finding it to, indeed, be scalding. He wouldn't bring it up just yet, however. Instead, he decided to address a matter of his curiosity.

"Was that a souvenir, per-chance?" he asked, pointing a slender finger at the journal in the Innkeeper's possession.

Shiryaz, denied the source of his entertainment, had resorted to nudging Arsenic's leg with the tip of his beak, trying to draw the Assassin's attention.

[Hopeflower]

Arsenic glanced down and tilted his head, the only reaction the persistent bird was going to get.

The corner of Vix's mouth quirked upwards, not quite a smile, and her fingers stilled. "Is it a souvenir if you don't pay for it?" she asked, then shook her head. "It's more important than that. That's why I took it in the first place."

A gust of cold wind accompanied Rowan's familiar footsteps. The scarred assassin pulled her scarf down with a sigh and shook her hands out, flexing her fingers to warm them. Note to self: Don't go back outside until spring.

"Abandoning all common sense as she did it," Rowan stated, having caught the tail end of Vix's words. "No library is safe from her now."

"I just said it's not going to be a habit!" Vix protested, faintly exasperated.

Rowan's disbelieving snort spoke volumes about how long she thought that would last.

[The Kingpin]

The Knight chuckled at that, shaking his head. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" he sighed, pausing his meal briefly to squeeze the bridge of his nose in mock frustration.

"So what was so special about this particular book that you could not buy it like a normal person?" he teased after a dramatic pause.

Shiryaz, as was his wont, did not take the Assassin's lackluster response for an answer. It was a mere moment before the bird leapt from the floor, landing firmly on the arm of the chair, the Assassin brushed with black and gold feathers as Shiryaz now stood face to face with him, if not slightly above that.

[Hopeflower]

Vix resumed her uneasy fidgeting and said, "We found it stuck in a stack of books in a library and they had never seen it before. It might or might not have an owner looking for it." She took a deep breath and said, "I took it because whoever owns it went looking for Lysanthir, and they found something."

"And now just try taking the thing from her," Rowan sighed, coming to lean against the back of Andruil's chair. She kept one eye on Arsenic, amused by his new predicament.

No sooner had the mute shifted his weight to give the big bird some room than Ohanzee yowled a protest and hissed loudly, making Arsenic flinch away from the back of his chair. The cat bolted for the stairs and was gone before Arsenic had finished muttering curses.

[The Kingpin]

Shiryaz, in response, had fluffed up considerably, looking like a large ball of feathers with his horned head perched atop it, feather crests vertical like a pair of horns. His head shifted back and forth between where Ohanzee had gone and Arsenic, as if blaming the assassin for frightening the feline, the gesture complete with the bird's signature glare.

"It seems you've upset him, Arsenic," stated the Knight matter-of-factly as he finished off the last of the food on his plate.

"So have you learned much about Lysanthir from the journal so far?" he asked after setting his plate aside on the table between the chairs, taking hold of his mug once more and cradling it in his hands. The Wirshah was effective for most of his body, but it could not protect his hands from the chill.

[Hopeflower]

Arsenic flicked a hand at the bird and sat up again, now that the back of his neck wasn't at risk of being kicked by an angry cat. 'Menaces, both of you.'

"Boys," Rowan scolded mildly, arching a brow at Arsenic. Later. He lifted his hands in apparent surrender.

When she was sure things had settled for the moment, Vix allowed herself a faintly frustrated sigh. "Barely a thing, actually." She carefully flipped to the page that held so much interest to her and held the journal out for Andruil to look at. "But it's a start."

[The Kingpin]

The Assassin's hand did little more than cause Shiryaz to crane his neck, evading it, otherwise unmoving. He seemed to have decided he liked this spot. And odds were, he wouldn't be leaving it any time soon, barring distractions. Especially with Andruil distracted as he was.

The Knight gestured with a finger for Vix to give him a moment, setting his mug down on the table so he could hold the journal with two hands. He took a look at the writing. It looked...old, for lack of a better term. The book was dusty with yellowed, almost orange page edges. The ink, while clearly visible, looked time-worn, like some of the older history books in the palace library in Riverdale. It seemed fragile, and thus was handled with the utmost care.

"I see. Well, if you like, we can read through it together and see how much seems familiar. Far be it for me to be counted a historian, but I know a few things about Elvish history. Perhaps I may see something you might miss," suggested the Knight in a thoughtful tone. It had been a few years since his days as a student being drilled by a tutor on Elvish History; "Preserving our identity", his father called it. That said, his tutor was very thorough.