Sir Walnut

Yeah, I'm here. And stuff. With other stuff. And fluffy bunny pillows. Made of other pillows. And I guess that makes me a lurker? Since, ya know. Stuff. Involving grammar. With typing.

A young gentleman dressed in fine purple, steps forward looking nervously around. He takes the top hat from his head and delivers a gracious bow. "Good day lords and ladies...and rodents. Sir Walnut is at your service." I stop by 2-3 times a week, just to see what kinda trouble you folks are stirring up. And I can never seem to make a single post without suddenly needing to edit it. Sigh.

Steam rolled of Cara's stone covered arm, and she braced herself as a subtle glow of bright blue emitted from the cracks in the stone. Sterns' brow remained furrowed even as he pulled a shell of earth over top himself. She raised her right hand over her head and paused for a moment, smiling gleefully. She slammed her hand on the ground, with contact immediately followed by a bolt of lightning streaking towards the nearest shade. The bolt arced from shadow to shadow, the area filled with the scent of ozone. The wind calmed as the area smoked from the heat. The shadows had retreated at this overwhelming tactic and Cara took a deep breath as she smiled. The front of Sterns earthen defense crumbled as he stepped from inside it, brushing dust of his shoulder and his hair standing up from the ambient static, "I really wish my niece hadn't inherited you, Cara." "But Sterns, then I would never have gotten to see my favorite grandchild again." Cara smirked then poured some water from her pack on the still glowing stone of her arm. "Plus, without my brimstone hand would that have been as easily dealt with?" "No, grandmother, but sometimes easy is better. My clothes will be shocking me for a week and my hair won't be manageable for several hours." Sterns said woefully, "But the real problem with you being around is now the child you've possessed will never be Sophie. She will just be Cara, my great-great-great grandmother. Hopefully the next daughter of your line to inherit that gauntlet won't be so young and weak of will to resist." For the first time during their trip Cara stopped smiling. A look of rage splashed across for just a moment, then calm lucidity, "Now, now Sterns, that's impolite. You shouldn't speak to your elders that way. Especially when said elder could melt the flesh from your bones." 3 stepped carefully through the forest, his joints popping with each step, making sure each footstep felt as little changed as possible. Surprisingly difficult for a thousand pounds of walking iron. 3 hummed to himself, which echoed awkwardly inside his metal skull. He hummed the tune Tora had taught him when Sterns had been out dealing with family matters while walking in a straight line as direct as nature would allow. He had managed to fix on the position of Cara's very powerful aura quite easily. 3 plunged calmly into an icy river as he stepped out of the forest. When he emerged on the other side he could see a single flash of lightning on the horizon. 3 counted as Tora had taught him whilst waiting for the thunder. He stopped after reaching 1,239.

3 sat quietly for a moment, starring into the darkness that muted the night. He liked the quiet that night brought, never silent but always more peaceful than the day. He felt more lonely than usual in his cell-like room. Sterns had told that he had to stay behind since he could be...hard to explain. Though he missed having Tora to talk with, 3 knew that Sterns wouldn't be happy with his disregard for a very simple request. Also, the enchantments he was given hadn't been completed yet. 3 sighed heavily, a feat he actually had to work for with his condition. 3 made up his mind, raising his arm and popping the joints of his metallic knuckles. He was going. Going to find his first friend. As he marched through the stone wall he chuckled slightly to himself. For all he loved the quiet of the night just him walking seemed to shatter the illusion of peace. What's an iron golem to do?

Tora sat quietly, weighing his options. He wasn't sure what he could do. Then his stomach spoke for him. "As you wish my master," The demon spoke and vanished in the same instant. Smoke and the smell of sulfur wafted about the small cave as Tora sat. With her sudden disappearance came a burning sensation from the mark crawling across his hand. Tora felt even more drained than he had from calling a fire. And then the exhaustion from casting a spell to far beyond his ability lulled his mind and body. And Tora returned to sleep before his willing "assistant" returned.

A gust of wind tears through the field, lifting Sterns momentarily of his feet. With that moment the wind decided to toss him a couple of yards forward as well. Sterns landed calmly on earthen hands that reached up to greet him. He looked back to see Cara sit up, the grass of the field pressed flat in front of her. He adjusted his coat, then ran his fingers through his hair. "Cara what did you do?" Cara giggled, a childlike smile being across her face. She leaped up, still grinning with both pride and delight. "Tora did it!" Cara shouted with as much glee as one could possible fit into a single shout. "Did what?" Sterns sent a nervous look back at his least favorite ancestor. "He successfully used that defense I taught him! It apparently worked like a charm, too!" Cara winced a little as she smacked her left hand into the stone covered palm of her right hand. Almost instantly she seemed to forget and return to a beaming smile of pride. "Why do you...how did...when did you find the time to cast that on him? I was there for every single meeting between the two of you." Sterns nervous look now changing to a slight mix of fear and surprise. "It was easy! I actually cursed us both!" Cara rocked back and forth on her heels, as if waiting to be congratulated. "You cursed the two of you? Why in the great blazing pit of hellfire would you do that?" Sterns anger bubbled beneath his calm exterior. Cara seemed to be misconstruing it as Sterns simply being quizzical. "Well, I wanted to know if he could actually use the spell when the time came. So I used a curse of mimicry. Since I know that spell as well it goes off when he uses it. Pretty good idea, right?" Cara proudly walked past Sterns, who was reflexively running his hands through his hair. "I'll be bald by the end of this trip as well," he thought to himself.

The thin faced man waggled his fingers momentarily as a bead of sweat ran down his temple. "It would appear finger waggling is a bit more...straining than I had once thought," a young girl laughed at his current difficulty. "For the last time! This is no mere finger waggling! I was sensing for young Tora's aura. It was suddenly and violently either removed or overpowered. The strength of the aura would have knocked a lesser mage out cold." The thin man sighed as he ran his gloved hands through his short brown hair. The young girl scratched her bald head lazily with her left hand, then suddenly a wide smile crossed her face. "An incredible strong aura then? Are you sure Sterns? Because I really want to but this baby to work again." The bald girl raised her right arm to her chest, and patted the thick rock coating her right forearm. "Now, now Cara. Remember what happened the last time you used that thing? It took me a week to get the spell out of my clothes. And don't forget your hair. It still hasn't started to grow back." Sterns calmly adjusted his coat as he glanced around the field the stood in. "It looks like we still have miles to go before we find whatever it was. North!" Sterns pointed north towards a large massing of gray clouds, and Cara happily skipped past him.

Thank you very much Wyvern. Wolfgang is a young adult, sorry I didn't make that more clear. Yeah that puzzle sequence was kind of long but it's one of those things that kind of slips by you at four in the morning. I'll clean it up a bit the next time I sit down with it.

Wolfgang rolled off his cot, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he stood up and walked towards his window. From his third floor balcony he would have had an excellent view of the town, except even this early in the morning the sky was hard to see through the thick clouds of smoke, belching from the roofs of nearly every home. He yawned and stretched as he turned his back to Perrunburg. He stepped into his water closet and washed his face, the grime of the smoke having gotten him even within the brief moment that he was outside. As he dried his face he looked into the mirror, his hazel eyes shown with fresh vigor after the night's rest. He tousled the bed head out of his brown shaggy locks. He threw on his trousers and his undershirt. He laced up his leather boots, a gift from his uncle because "Everyman needs a good pair of shoes, they'll make sure he always strides true!" Wolfgang left his small apartment, and walked past the few rooms on his floor as he headed towards the kitchen. Mrs. Strauss always cooked a little breakfast in the morning, it was included with the room, for which she collected a meager rent. Of course, Wolfgang was late to the morning meal. The biscuits were cold and most of the gravy was gone. He started towards the closet with the coats when Mrs. Strauss caught him. "Wolfgang! Don't you dare try and get out of this house without eating breakfast! You're barely out of boyhood and you need your strength! Now eat!", Mrs. Strauss grabbed him by the ear, sat him roughly at the table and uncovered a small bowl sitting on a hot plate, "And don't think I didn't save you any." "My gratitude, Mrs. Strauss, though you needn't take the time for me. I am sure-" "Nonsense! You're like a son to me! Now eat before it grows cold." Mrs. Strauss placed Wolfgang's share of warm gravy and biscuits before then shushed the soon to come complaints. Just like a son she thought as she cleaned the kitchen watching Wolfgang out of the corner of her eye. Wolfgang stepped outside wearing his bowler hat, a long thick coat, goggles, and a mask over his mouth. This time of year the fumocite mines were extremely busy, making the smoke chokingly thick. The miners and people heading to market crowded the street. Wolfgang had been in Perrunburg for a little over a week and was still looking for work. His father had been a watchmaker and taught him all he knew, and Wolfgang was a master watchmaker by the age of twelve. He left his home town at seventeen and had been looking for anyone to apprentice with to feed his hunger for knowledge about any subject. Today, he was going to check in with the town blacksmith, a man by the name of Sean Riley. Apparently, he was the best for a hundred miles which meant he was who Wolfgang had to learn from. Wolfgang stretched out his legs as he stepped out of the boarding house. He looked around shortly, deciding which way he should go. He took the longer route since he didn't often just kind of wander the town. And it would give him a chance to take a look at some of the architecture, which Perrunburg was well known for having some very unique styles present. While most of the building had started to take on a more western style of the larger Imperial cities some had maintained what most would call a rustic style that belonged solely to this region. It was quite beautiful in its simplicity. And before Wolfgang even knew it he had wandered quite some distance and wasted most of the morning on his little mental field trip. He picked up the pace and hastened towards his destination. Wolfgang reached Sean's shop, a squat little building with a chimney that seemed several sizes too large. The smoke pouring out was only a little thinner than that of the rest of the town. Wolfgang opened the door to find the entrance was several steps above the ground, with the primary body of the forge sitting a few feet below the doorway. Wolfgang stepped in and the heat from the forge made sweat instantly appear on his brow. He could barely hear the sound of voices as he walked in. Wolfgang faintly remembered one of his uncle's quips, something to do with curiosity never letting you get bored. He walked closer to the door a short way passed the forge. Wolfgang could now tell that the voices were shouting. "Listen Mr. Riley, the boss is tired of waiting! He says you owe him big for that loan he gave you! He wants his money, soon!" A slightly squeaky voice shouted trying to sound tough, "Rough him up!" The man continue after Wolfgang heard several blows landed, "Well be back at the end of the week to collect!" Wolfgang leaned up against the wall as the door opened up and a short thin man with a sharp chin walked out of the room smoking a cigarette, followed closely by a man shaped somewhat like an ape. After they left Wolfgang turned stepped around the door to see Mr. Riley, a bald man with well muscled arms and soft hazel eyes, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth and under his nose. "Are you all right Mr. Riley? Shall we fetch the police?" Wolfgang rushed over and helped the smith to his feet. "No lad, there's no point. If we got the coppers involved it would surely be the end of me.", Riley was a little shorter than Wolfgang who stood just at six feet but was thicker muscled than the young man," Now why don't you forget about what you saw. Who are you and what did you come for lad?" "I wondered if you would be willing to teach me your trade Mr. Riley. I was coming to apprentice under you." "My lad, first please call me Sean Riley, and you seem a little old for an apprenticeship, are you not?" "My name is Wolfgang von Carthan, and I learn quickly, Mr. Riley, I mean ...Sean Riley." "Well that doesn't really matter seeing how this shop probably won't be here for much longer. I'll probably have to join the gang now to make ends meet." "The gang?" "Your new in town aren't you? Well, the gang is a buncha hooligans that goes by the name Shiver's Gang. Run by a real piece of work, goes by Mr. Shivers. Very few people even want to admit to having seen him. This Mr. Shivers has got a real strangle hold on Perrunburg. Pretty much owns the entire town at this point." "But I've heard you're the best for nearly a hundred miles and the only one I've have any information about, Sean Riley. There must be something we could do." "Well, if you had a thousand gold pieces handy we could simply repay my debt." "A thousand gold pieces! I have never even seen that much money in one place, Mr. Riley, let alone actually had it!" "First off lad, it's bloody Sean Riley! Make me say it again and you'll find out I don't always play nice. Second, it's either that or we fight them and sadly boy they outnumber us slightly." "Maybe we could manage to get an extension from Mr. Shivers; surely he might be reasonable enough for that." "Wow lad. You truly are the most naive person I have ever had the displeasure of speaking with. He's a crime boss. They're not known for their generosity." "Have you ever tried? To simply believe something because you're told sounds pretty naive to me, Sean Riley." "Fine lad! You want to go waste your time and probably get found in some alley, throat slit, well then be my guest. Mr. Shivers' representative is usually in the opera house. Now get going lad." Wolfgang placed his right hand, clenched into a fist, against his heart and bowed his head before taking his leave. Sean Riley chuckled at this antiquated gesture. Wolfgang checked the time as he stepped back into the smog of Perrunburg. More of the day had drifted by and it was now nearly three o'clock. Deciding not to dawdle, Wolfgang headed to the opera house. The walk took him through several back alleys that he hadn't taken but he had a fairly good sense of direction and managed to get on to Main Street, where the opera house was seated comfortably across from the town hall, after about half an hour. The opera house was the grandest looking building in Perrunburg, although that wasn't very impressive. The architecture was in the newer Imperial style, with the gargoyles perched on its gutters venting smoke out of the building. Several columns decorated the entrance to the building which was several stories taller than those around it. The fancy revolving door was gilded with a bronze frame engraved with words in foreign tongues. Wolfgang stepped through door while still trying to marvel at the work. The inside was beautiful, with gorgeous velvet drapes and a machine in the center of the great hall. The machine was fairly small and made of gears in a spherical configuration. Each spoke of the gears were engraved with either the comedy or tragedy mask. Many bluish tubes extruded from the center of the sphere and spiraled around each other into the ceiling. Wolfgang pulled his mask down around his neck and stared. The towns he had been in didn't have a piece of work this magnificent. He simply stood still and pushed his goggles onto his forehead, the smoke of the streets having left a ring of grime around his eyes. "Magnificent isn't it?" a young woman with black hair down to her neck stepped towards Wolfgang. She stood a bit shorter than Wolfgang, with a slender frame wrapped in a red, hooded cloak which appeared to be a darker red in some areas. Her face was quiet fair, a tattoo of a red rose with a spiral of thorns around it curved about her left eye, which immediately drew his attention to her most striking feature. Her eyes were two different colors; the left was a vibrant blue while the right was a sparkling green. "Yes it is, ma'am. Pardon the inquiry but are you by any chance an actress?" "Me? Oh no, but my work is quite...dramatic. Why do you ask?" "It was just your features are quite striking, so it was a likely choice, also you seemed to be dressed for a performance." As Wolfgang finished his sentence, a large man slowly walked up behind the non-actress. Other than being large his only distinguishing mark was a rather large scar around his neck that was only partially visibly due to the blue woolen scarf he wore. "Rose. They don't wish to assist us … I believe they wish to double-cross us and obtain the object themselves.", the large man, standing nearly seven feet tall, spoke very monotone in a deep voice that seemed to echo inside his throat. "Of course they do, Hemmingway. Their criminals." the woman named Rose ran her fingers through her hair in thought. She focused her gaze on Wolfgang's grime covered face, "Young man, are you here to have dealings with Mr. Shivers' Gang?" "Yes, I am, Ms. Rose. I have come to get an extension on a loan for a man in debt." Wolfgang nodded in agreement as he spoke. "Well good luck. If they rough you up a little too much do be sure to come down to the Martzel Hotel and ask for me at the desk. Hemmingway would be more than glad to patch you up." "Very funny Rose. Now let's go." Hemmingway turned towards the exit. Wolfgang proceeded through the grand hall as the two left the opera house. Since nothing was currently being performed only some of the building was lit and there was no heat. Wolfgang followed the lights down a couple of hallways. He came upon a door with a man standing guard with one of those new hydraulic crossbows in hand. "State your business, boy!" the man raised the crossbow and took aim. "I'm here on account of Sean Riley, the blacksmith. I wish to speak with someone about his loan." Wolfgang held his hands up and waited. "Well, got to check you. No weapons inside the club." The man walked up and let his crossbow hang from the strap resting on his shoulder. After patting nearly every square inch of the boys form the guard back away and opened the door. Inside were several more men armed with crossbows or with swords sheathed around their hips. They all eyed Wolfgang as he walked in, ready to strike at the drop of a hat, or roll of a head. A fat man wearing an unpleasantly tight shirt sat at a table counting coins into neat stacks. One of the guards leaned over and whispered something in his ear and he raised head, revealing several chins. "Ah, so you've come on behalf of Mr. Riley. Come here to settle his little debt with Mr. Shivers have you?", the corpulent man smiled showing his bucked teeth, yellowed from mistreatment. Wolfgang thought that he looked like a rat that was growing too large for his fur. "Not exactly, Sir. I was wondering if Mr. Shivers would be willing to give Mr. Riley an extension. He cannot pay by the end of the week, and surely Mr. Shivers would prefer a thousand gold pieces over a dying forge?" "Really? You came all the way here to ask for an extension? Boy, not only have you wasted your time but you are also wasting my time, and by extension you have wasted Mr. Shivers' time. But, you know what? I'm going to go ahead and give him a ring. I'll ask him for you. Just for laughs." As the overstuffed rat said this he reach for his grammobox, hit a few keys, and waited patiently for a moment. "Mr. Shivers! Yes sir. Sorry sir. No worries sir. Now, you know the Riley account? Yes the blacksmith. I have a young gentlemen here asking for an extension for Mr. Riley. I see. Yes. Of course sir. That's a wonderful idea sir, couldn't have thought of that myself sir. That is why it's your gang sir. Yes sir. Goodbye sir.", the obese vermin placed the receiver back on the grammobox. After that, the look on his face changed from groveling to displeasure. He motioned towards Wolfgang. Before the naive fellow knew what had happened he was short of breath and collapsed on the floor. Wolfgang drew a sharp breath just as another blow connected with his ribs. And another. And another. Wolfgang lay still a moment waiting for his breath to slowly return, then wiped a thin trickle of blood from a cut across his cheek. An errant boot or two had clipped his face during what amounted to a severe beating. He looked up at the vermin who had ordered this beating. A cruel smile curved its way across his bulging cheeks. "Mr. Shivers has given me permission to extend the time on the loan. He only asks a small favor of you. West of town there is a small canyon. At the bottom of said canyon there are some derelict ruins. In these ruins there is a book which Mr. Shivers desires for his personal collection. Bring that to me and not only will Mr. Riley receive an extension but a deduction of two hundred and fifty gold pieces from his debt." Wolfgang picked his hat from the ground, stood and dusted it off, "Sounds quite agreeable. I shall go and inform Mr. Riley. When you see me next I will come bearing the desired pages.", Wolfgang gave his antiquated bow, wincing as he moved, and slowly made his way out of the room. Wolfgang felt slightly dizzy as he left the building. His mouth was full of the coppery taste of his own blood. He headed for the hotel where Rose had said she was staying. The city seemed to blur and slowly come in and out of focus. The Martzel Hotel was one of the largest buildings in the rather small town, its bright blue sign's letters blinking in and out rhythmically. A young man in a red cap and jacket with brass buttons stood near the door, waiting patiently. He greeted Wolfgang politely, but with a look of sheer shock as the beaten man approached the building, and opened the door for him. Wolfgang nodded, the world starting to turn slightly as he walked up to the front desk. "Good day sir. How may I be of service?", the man behind the desk asked barely looking up from several papers set in front of him. "I'm to meet a woman staying here. Her name is Roseeeee…..", Wolfgang trailed off as the world spun suddenly and then vanished. Wolfgang opened his eyes slowly, and squinted when the world was slightly brighter than he was expecting. As the world cleared in his vision he could see a face leaning over his own. He started to ask if it was Rose, but his question was answered by the figure above him. "Wow. They gave you a pretty good going over, didn't they?", the words echoed slightly in the throat they came from as a small light flashed in Wolfgang's eyes, "I'm surprised you still headed over here. A little more surprised you even made it. Not the worst beating I've ever seen, but still pretty bad. You've got some badly bruised ribs, maybe a couple of fractured ones. Is it difficult for you to breathe?" Wolfgang shook his head as the breath he took caused a sharp pain throughout his abdomen. The room was of good quality, with two beds and purple drapes and carpeting. He raised his hand to his head and grazed the fresh stitches in his forehead with a sudden twinge. "That laceration was bleeding very badly. I was quiet surprised that you were capable of making it here from the opera house with that much blood pouring into your face. I've gotten you all patched up, just like Rose said I would. Now it's time to tell us why you came here.", the echo sounded out of his throat calmly without any hint of a threat. "Yes, that would be a good place to start. Those stitches are excellent work Hemmingway.", Rose stepped out of the bath to Wolfgang's right, still dressed in that red robe but drying her hair with a purple towel. Wolfgang sat up, wincing as the lamp light hit him in the eye, and recounted what happened at the opera house. Neither Hemmingway nor Rose blinked an eye at any of the details. "See, Rose, they did plan on double crossing us." "I know Hemmingway. You were right it was a terrible idea to go and talk to Mr. Shivers' gang. But it seems that he's given us a golden opportunity. Now, my friend what's your name?", Rose paced across the room to the window, arms crossed. "I didn't introduce myself earlier? My apologies!", Wolfgang stood quickly looking slightly flustered, "How rude of me! My name is Wolfgang von Carthan. How do you do?", finishing his introduction with his antiquated bow. "Well, Wolfgang , my name is Rose and my companion here is Hemmingway. Now I have an important question for you. I hope that you will say yes. Hemmingway and I would like to assist you in retrieval of this book from said temple. The only condition is that I get to look it over first. Agreed?", Rose stepped over hand extended and waiting for the agreeing hand of Wolfgang. Wolfgang took the hand with a vigorous shake, "Yes that sounds agreeable. And probably my best option as it were." The three left the hotel and parted ways agreeing to meet at the edge of Perrunburg at dawn. Wolfgang decided he should report back to Mr. Riley with the news, and to let him know he wasn't dead. It was getting quite dark now, several hours having past while Wolfgang was unconscious. After the quick walk back Wolfgang gave a sharp knuckle rap upon the door. After a moment rustling could be heard and some groaning. The peephole opened to reveal a very sleep ridden set of eyes with lids half closed peering out. "You actually came back, eh lad. Well judging by those stitches I'm guessing they roughed you up for the naïve question." Sean Riley sighed, the eyes vanishing from the peephole just as the door muffled a tremendous yawn. "Actually, I am to perform a favor for the gang. If I am successful you shall get an extension, and a two hundred and fifty gold piece reduction. So, who is the naïve one now?" A smirk crossed Wolfgang lips even though Sean Riley couldn't see it. "Still you lad. The errand is probably far too dangerous for some scrawny jobless dolt such as you. Well good luck. If I don't hear back from you in a few days then I'll send a search party. So where are heading then?" The voice stilled sounded barely awake. "The ruins in the nearby valley. Hopefully I'll be back in within a week." With that Wolfgang turned and took the quick route back to the boarding house to rest and gather some things before heading out. He also found himself wanting to let Mrs. Strauss know what was going on so she wouldn't worry. A short while after arriving he came back downstairs to see Mrs. Strauss cooking a small portion of the evening meal. She turned at the sound of his footsteps, however soft they fell on the way down. "Mrs. Strauss, how went your day?" "Fine, fine. Just getting your share of the porridge ready. Did you meet with that blacksmith fellow?" "Actually, on that subject, I wanted you to wish me good luck. I am leaving in the morning to perform a favor for Mr. Shivers." "You what!", Mrs. Strauss dropped the spoon she had just been stirring the evening meal with into porridge, "You got mixed up with Mr. Shivers? Are you daft?" "I'm only doing a favor for the blacksmith. It won't be long but I'm leaving Perrunburg for a short while." Mrs. Strauss didn't say a word as she slid a bowl of good as fresh porridge towards the young man she had taken quite a shine to. The boy dutifully while she sat there and watched. A tear came to Mrs. Strauss as Wolfgang walked over and gave the older woman a quick kiss on the forehead and a light hearted smile, followed shortly by a look that told her not to worry. She wiped the tear from her cheek as Wolfgang headed back upstairs to his room. She took a small locket from around her neck and opened it to reveal a portrait of a young man, roughly Wolfgang's age. "I hope he has better luck with the gang than you did, Sam.", she said just before she kissed the photo and snapped it shut. In the morning Wolfgang left before even Mrs. Strauss had even started her day. His sleep had been poor and he had tossed and turned the short while he had slept. He gathered a few essentials, his watch and a change in clothes, and quietly crept down the stairs and out the door. He headed for Main Street, and the eastern exit from the town, the opposite end from the opera house. It was nearly daybreak when he arrived at the designated meeting spot, the sign that welcome visitors into the small city. Wolfgang waited a short time at the end of Main Street. He pulled out his self-made pocket watch, and opened its door, revealing the skeleton-bare face that showed the inner workings. The gears ticked along with the second hand. As sunrise approached the watch's silver body gleamed in the fresh light. He set to polishing the watch while he waited. "Alright, Wolfgang, are you ready?", Rose asked while giving her hair a toss. She and Hemmingway had walked up without Wolfgang even noticing. He must really try to be more observant than that. He made a mental note of this, before clicking the pocket watch's door closed. "Yes, Ms. Rose. Do you two know where it is this place is located exactly? "Well, of course, it's only due east of the town just a few miles off the main road. We should make it to the canyon by this evening, just in time to rest for the night." Rose said knowingly. The walk along the larger trade route was easy but quiet, the three talking very little, all seeming to have slept very little. Wolfgang spent most the journey staring at the fields they walk past on his right side. The left side of the road was shrouded from vision by the thick forest that spanned for several miles in that direction. It was one of the most durable forests in the region having always grown back with surprising vigor even after fires and wind storms. Eventually Rose turned off the large road for a smaller one that cut straight into the forest. The sun was nearly completely blocked by the thick foliage that had grown over the road. Unlike the road they had turned off this one was not well traveled seeming to be little more than a path that the forest was rapidly overtaking. Even though it was now midday very few animals could be heard and the few that were noticed seemed to be in the distance. After some time the sky darkened, the path widening as the day faded into night. Soon the forest seemed to sink suddenly and the group halted for the day. Hemmingway lit a small fire while Wolfgang and Rose set up tents for the evening. Wolfgang set his head on his bedroll and dove headlong into sleep. Morning arrived to a group of well rested, if not a little stiff, travelers ready for the remainder of the journey. As the incline increased the group stepped more carefully, keeping a watchful eye out for rocks and roots jutting out of the ground. A little trip here would turn into a long one rather quickly. The forest floor evened out and they caught there first sight of the temple they had began looking this trek in search of. The forest had started to reclaim the land it had been built on as the trees seemed to be choking it in to ground. Vines had started to grow over the entrance, which Hemmingway responded to with very little emotion. He had brought a machete with him and he set to the vines with gusto. "So these are the ruins of what exactly?" Wolfgang asked while scratching under his hat, uttering the first words of the journey so far. Hemmingway simple shrugged while hacking through the thick vines that had massed in the temple entrance. Rose placed her hand on her chin, looking up into the tree cover shading them. "Well, back before the U.R.P was in power in this region it was entirely under Bloodpath control. But, the Bloodpath church isn't well known for giving up temples. Usually they burn them down and destroy them while taking any important knowledge with them. Since, the Bloodpath controlled this area for nearly three hundred years, I'd have to guess it's a temple of the old ways. It must have survived the Bloodpath inquisitions due to the excellent cover provided by the fauna here." "A temple of the old ways?" "You haven't heard of the old ways? You know about magic right?" Rose looked at Wolfgang as if he was a five year old, he nodded as she spoke, ignoring the look, "Well, everything we know about magic is taken from the civilization that came before ours. At some point all of the people in the civilization were killed off. Following the ways of these people and practicing magic is known as the old ways." Wolfgang looked into Rose's eyes, her twin colored eyes met his own, and he could see his desire for knowledge reflected in those two deep pools. The connection was for just a moment and shattered when Hemmingway called out to the two, "The vines are gone. Let's continue before they grow back." The trio continued up to the crumbling stone work of the dilapidated temple. The statues appeared to be made in the images of many dread demons. Wolfgang stepped through the partially collapsed portal that functioned as an entrance. Stale air wafted up from the bowels of the temple, seeming to be several stories deep from where Wolfgang stood, Hemmingway lit a torch but the light from it barely lit the stairwell they stood in. Wolfgang took a deep breath of the thick air. Here goes nothing. They all stepped forward, the strange hieroglyphics on the walls depicting images of trees and suns next to terrifying demons. Vines had started to grow down the stairs, showing that it wouldn't be long before nature reclaimed this little segment of the canyon. As they started down they could hear the trickle of water, most likely an underground stream having worn away at the roof. Several roots protruded from the walls, blocking a portion of the path down. Eventually the stairwell came to a halt and the hall opened up into a wall of pitch black darkness. Hemmingway lit a wall torch with the fire from his own. The flame spread across a small crevice in the wall and lit several other torches. They stood at the entrance to a large room with a domed-roof. In the center of the room was a pedestal, which stood in the center of a large pit. "Look! Upon the pedestal. It's the book." the excitement in Rose's voice nearly palpable, "But that pit is at least twenty to thirty feet across. We can't get over there. Wolfgang looked at the floor around the pedestal, and the ledge that separated them from it. He nodded along with his thoughts, and mulled them over. He stared around the room and saw eight different passages out of the room, other than the one they entered from. He took out his watch, from which a pale blue light had begun to pour out of, and examined the face, looking at his reflection for any more information. He was done thinking. "Well, we just need to get the ledge to extend back to its original position, connected to pedestal platform. To do that we need to explore down those eight passages.", Wolfgang motioned to the darkened passages. Hemmingway pulled Rose a few steps away and started to whisper in that low double voice of his. He showed his mistrusted, but what else was to be expected. They hadn't even known him for a day, Wolfgang thought, and few people are as trusting as he himself was. Wolfgang started for the first path left of the stairs but stopped abruptly. He held his watch in front of him and the blue glow fought back the darkness in the passage in front of him. "You two can come with if you like but I won't force it. No reason for the three of us to split up though. We don't really know this place and getting lost wouldn't do any of us a favor, no?" Rose nodded and grabbed Hemmingway's arm and dragged him forward. The trio headed to a hallway that sloped downward, and continued left slightly. Rose had taken out a notebook and pencil and was seeming to doodle. Probably copying the hieroglyphics, Wolfgang thought. Hemmingway had stepped into the lead since his torch gave more light then Wolfgang's watch. Their footsteps reverberated off the walls of the passage as it sloped down towards the bowels of the temple. Sometime later the passage opened into a small. Rose let out a gasp of shock, which echoed for a short time after, as the light from the torch illuminated a skeleton chained to wall, it's head on the floor. "He probably starved to death." Hemmingway said as he examined the room. "You can tell it's a he?", Wolfgang seemed quiet astonished at this. "It's a simple matter of understanding human anatomy. Hips, shoulders, and jaw-structure are all dead giveaways." "You have a very dry sense of humor Mr. Hemmingway." Wolfgang grimaced at the intentional pun. Rose was looking at the hieroglyphics on the wall. They didn't fill all the walls in this room. There were only a few on the wall across from the chained skeleton. "Well, from the little I know of the old way writings, this means something about knowledge." , Rose ran her fingers across the hieroglyphics on the wall. Wolfgang gave the room another going over. Knowledge... Wolfgang looked at the skull on the ground. He picked it up and turned it in his hands. It was smoothed by the years that had passed. He placed the skull on the chained skeleton and forced it down onto the neck. The eyes shined a faint blue and the jaw chattered wildly, speaking in an unknown tongue. When the light faded the words still echoed in the young explorer's mind. "Huh," Wolfgang rubbed his temples as the echoes subsided, "that was interesting." Rose turned to him and flipped opened through her notes that she had taken on the way down. She nodded and held her chin as she mulled over the writing. "This chamber was the first test involved in getting the book. There should be another chamber down here that will finish extending the platform to the book. All we have to do is watch out for something called the Oorak. I'm assuming that would be a temple guardian. Probably very unfriendly as well. So most likely he'll be in our way though, that's the way the dice usually fall." Hemmingway shrugged and started back down the hall and the others quickly fell in line behind. When they returned to the central chamber the floor to the pedestal was partially raised. "I would really prefer to not have to explore each passage, so Rose could you check the writings for a hint" Hemmingway said without a change of expression, his echo echoing in the cavernous temple. Rose flipped through her notes and examined each passageway's entrance. Wolfgang looked up and his vision faded. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he started to panic. When he opened them again his vision was fine, but something was different. Everything looked the same but it all seemed clearer. The hieroglyphics made sense to him, at least some of them did. He couldn't actually read them but he suddenly had an innate understanding of some of the symbols. He looked around and read the hieroglyphics above the passage they had just came from which read as the key. As he looked around he noticed one of them said the keyhole. "Ma'am. I think…" Wolfgang raised his hand as he attempted to speak. "Not now Wolfgang, I'm thinking." Rose cut him off with a sharp tone. "But, I believe I know which way to go." "How could you possibly know that. I've been studying the writings of the old ways for years and I can barely read their symbols." "I don't know how but I'm positive that this passage is the correct one." Rose pondered for a moment and mulled over the few symbols she could read and simply mouth the words key hole, before agreeing by waving for Hemmingway to go through. The trio continued on through several dark twists downward before coming upon another small room. This room was similar in size but lacked the grim wall ornament of the first. Instead seated next to the back wall sat a decorative table upon which was a dusty ledger, pages yellowed with age; a quill pen; and an inkwell. The wall above the table had only a single symbol, smoothed out over the years but still legible. Rose flipped through her notes for a moment and found the page she was looking for. "This symbol could be several things. It is very similar to the symbol for hospitality and neighbor, but I've never encountered this exact one before." Rose said out loud to herself while grasping her chin pensively. Wolfgang walked up to the ledger and flipped through several frayed pages all of which empty the first. Only one set of symbols was on the first page, centered at the top. He lifted the quill out of the inkwell to find it dry, the ink having turned to dust long ago. The tip of the quill was covered in gold, sticking out as on odd choice to Wolfgang, seeing as how it would almost always be tarnished with ink. Yet the tip still glittered like brand new. "Rose", Wolfgang set the pen back down and focused his attention on the page he had open in the ledger, "what do these symbols mean?" Rose stepped over to the table and peered down at the ledger's only symbols. They sat faintly on the page, nearly worn away by the pressure of the others on it. "It looks as if the book is a check-in ledger that one would find in an inn. I guess that means we need to sign in as guests." "The only problem with that would be the lack of ink." Wolfgang flipped over the inkwell to illustrate his point. He lifted the quill pen before so the others could see it. "Also, this quill pen has an interesting point of its own." Hemmingway walked over to the ledger, grabbing the quill out of Wolfgang's hand, and attempted to sign it. Nothing appeared. "Well, it was worth the try since it could be dealing with magic here." Rose stepped over, an understanding look cast upon her statuesque features. Rose closed her eyes, pricked her finger with the quill pen. She took the blooded pen to the paper and signed the first line in a looping, elegant cursive that matched the woman. The blood signature flashed for a moment before changing into a gold emblazonment upon the book. The group waited for the flash of light and the echoing words ringing in their heads. It didn't come. Rose handed the pen to Hemmingway, shook her head and walked way. Hemmingway signed in a harsh, sharp script that fit the impatient image Wolfgang had developed of the man. Wolfgang signed in a nearly illegible scribble that was slowly defining itself into an actual signature. Immediately after the pen left last character in Wolfgang's name the ledger slammed closed and the hieroglyphics on the wall flashed a bright bluish hue. A flood of insensible words pulsed into the front of Wolfgang's mind, blocking out all other possible thoughts. This time it was too much for him and once again the world spiraled into a deep black haze. Wolfgang's call back to the world was the sharp clap of a well swung palm connecting with his cheek. That followed by a gentle purr from Rose, "Wake up or Hemmingway is going to try, and he doesn't play nearly as nice as me." Wolfgang struggled to get up but his head felt as if someone had tried to open his skull and rummage through it. He opened his eyes to see Hemmingway leering down at him. Never the tactful one, Hemmingway reached down and held Wolfgang's eyes open. "He seems to be alright, judging by the fact that the fear reaction was still there." Wolfgang could hear the sneer in the voice even if it didn't spread across the large man's face. "I am all right even in spite of the brutish awakening. Thank you for that Rose." Wolfgang stood and dusted off his jacket. "How long was I out?" He bent over a picked his hat up from next to where he lay. "Only a few moments, Rose nearly fainted as well so it seems to be only something that can affect that weak of will." Hemmingway responded, throwing a completely unveiled insult at the young man. "Now, Hemmingway, that doesn't sound at all based upon medical facts since you yourself seemed a little shaken after that flash of light. Even if it did knock out our young companion let's not be so harsh." "The flash wasn't what did it; it was the chorus of voices speaking all at once. That was just far too much for me." Wolfgang pulled out the pocket watch to check the time. A dour look came across his face, wrinkling his brow. They had been in the ruins for nearly four hours now, but it didn't seem as if that much time had passed. This was becoming worrisome. "A chorus of voices?", both Rose and Hemmingway questioned in unison. Wolfgang spoke of what he heard following the flash of light. Rose seemed more interested in this than Hemmingway, who was ready to chalk it up to latent psychosis brought on by the trauma sustained early in the week. They both knew that he was simply being Hemmingway with that statement. They decided to dwell more on this later as they left the small chamber for the twisting ruins once more. The central chamber now had a complete floor leading up to the pedestal which held the book the three had come searching for. Large central chamber seemed ominous to Wolfgang as he stepped out into the room, as if he had stepped out on to a great stage and that the eyes of many people were watching him. The shadows seemed to reach out longer as if grabbing at the three. Rose made it to the pedestal first and she quickly grasped the book. The moment her delicate gloved fingers took hold of the ornately trimmed tome there was a change in her face. It was very subtle at first, just a hint of it in her eyes. They seemed to suddenly glaze over, her focus not truly being in front of her anymore. Then her expression changed, from what Wolfgang would call angelic into a viscous glare. She suddenly seemed to be over taken by hate. The next moment she clutched the book tightly to her bosom, a frown having etched its way across her porcelain features. "Stay away from me you…you monsters. You can't have the book. It's mine. I had it first, so just…just leave me alone." The new Rose spit and fumbled over the words as she back away from the two men. Wolfgang could hear the voices again, this time much more subtle and there was no pounding pain in his forehead. "Hemmingway! The book was the Oorak! We were supposed to be wary of it! Quickly get it out of her hands!" Wolfgang shouted at the large man who was moving before the command was even issued. His speed was surprising but Rose in her rage induced burst of adrenaline was faster. The slim cloaked figure seemed to dance right out of the grasp of the physician. But she only could look in one direction at once and she danced her way into the waiting arms of Wolfgang. Hemmingway's massive hands grasped the book and for a moment the book's focus seemed torn. Both Hemmingway and rose stopped tugging at it, as if waiting for the book to decide where it wanted to go. Then it decided and Rose let go of her own accord. Hemmingway reeled as the book attempted to subvert his own will. But the large man fought back and suddenly an ethereal hand burst forth from the book, launching him away from the tome and his only weapon as the machete grated against the harsh stone floor. Rose shook off the possession in time to see this and understood immediately what was happening, "Hemmingway, Wolfgang! Be careful the book is housing a sealed demon. An evil spirit of avarice, it used our desire to obtain the book to manifest itself in our world!" "A demon! Aren't those just a bedtime story used to scare naughty children?" Wolfgang seemed completely dumbfounded at the idea that a hell spawn was manifesting itself right before his eyes. "Oh, they're plenty real. It's just very hard for them to manifest in the physical world. The amount of energy…look now's not a great time to be discussing this!" Rose shouted as she regained her composure, just as the demon began to pull itself from the cover of the book. As its arms came into being it dragged the rest of its body into the material world. Its serpentine form was over ten feet in length, scaled in precious gems of various hues, a set of serrated diamonds running the length of its back. It was supported by six pairs of thick hoofed legs that just seemed to sprout awkwardly from its sides as though it simply desired to have them. A pair of well muscled arms sprouted from its thick shoulders each bending at multiple the elbows and ending in a hand that bore platinum claws that steamed as if freshly cooling metal. Its gruesome head was split by a large vertical maw of diamond teeth, the tongue that hung from it lazily ending in a large yet surprisingly human hand. Its eyes seemed to be circular cut sapphires that burned with an unearthly greenish flame. The beast peered at the three and let forth a guttural chuckle that sounded as though it was choking. Hemmingway was already getting back to his feet as the beast came rushing at him again, its claws hissing through the air as their steam trailed behind. Hemmingway leaned back in time to avoid the first butcher knife sized claw as it swung by his throat. As the demon lunged forward with its other clawed hand Hemmingway found his retreat cut short by the temple wall, a realization that came moments to late as the massive claw dug its way into his right shoulder, pinning him to the wall. The beast's tongue hand caressed his face, tasting him, and Hemmingway felt the gravel-like tongue flesh of each finger as they felt around him. The hand pulled back leaving a silver thread of saliva from each little appendage to Hemmingway's now very pale face. Hemmingway felt a pang of fear shriek through his mind, a pain he remembered from what seemed like a life time ago. He was relieved from these thoughts by the cruel twisting of the crimson splattered platinum claw in his shoulder. The pain blocked out his other senses, he couldn't even hear the others screaming his name as he gasped in pain. Wolfgang acted first, picking up Hemmingway's dropped blade and running at the beast. Fear gripped his mind, his adrenaline the only thing pushing him forward on legs the seemed to be made of drying concrete. The blade struck with as much force as Wolfgang could muster. A single topaz scale dislodged from the blow and skipped across the floor as silver blood oozed from the small wound. The beast focused its attention now on the young watchmaker, pulling its claw from the ancient stone wall with Hemmingway still hanging from it as it swung giant body around to face the new attacker. The monster lashed out with its tongue, wrapping it large fingers around the brown haired youth's throat. Wolfgang thrust the machete up into the tongue, and found he could not retrieve the blade from the thick muscle as silver dripped down on to his black gloved hand. He thrashed around trying to breathe as the beast tightened its grip on him. From the corner of his eye he could see Rose pull a slender blade from her waist that had been hidden within the folds of her robe. He had never seen a blade like this one before was one of the few things he could think as the silver edge flashed through the air. It was about a half foot in length and resting in the tang of the blade was a ruby the size of a human eye. Wolfgang tried to gasp in shock with the lack of air as Rose turned it in on herself. She carved up a long line on each arm which Wolfgang saw for the first time as she sliced through her sleeve. Blood dripped down each scar covered forearm as she moved the blood-covered blade towards her abdomen. Lowering the blade past her bosom she thrust the dagger into her stomach. A moment passed as the demon, Wolfgang, and Hemmingway observed her pull the blade back out and a trickle of blood leave her mouth. She teetered for a moment, then suddenly forced herself upright She raised one blood covered arm pointing a blood dripping finger at the Oorak, "I name you beast as mine enemy and wish upon you no mercy and all the torments of thy infernal home." She suddenly convulsed, dropping the knife as she arched her back, eyes rolling back in her head and arms hanging limp. She stood still like this as a faint aura of red appeared around her. The grip around his neck loosened and Wolfgang could tell that it was not a magical aura, but droplets of her blood floating in the air. The droplets quickly coalesced into a several shapes; a dozen vicious spikes that curved and loomed around the girl. She suddenly lurched forward flinging her arms towards the beast. The spears of solidified blood shot forward and in the blink of an eye they had impaled the otherworldly entity straight through. They suddenly returned to blood as the magic ended, the sanguine fluid of Rose contrasted on the floor by the flood of silver pouring forth from the demon. The beast's body suddenly lost its hold in the material plane and faded out with a sudden gust of air. The whole ordeal had ended in just a few minutes, with two of the trio badly wounded. Wolfgang ran over to Rose as she stood with a smirk on her colorless face. She coughed up more blood as she fell back slowly, as if willing herself to be caught in by someone. She fell down into Wolfgang's arms and he tried to support her head as she looked up at him. "I hate doing that" Rose coughed up more blood that splattered down her cheek "It takes a lot out of you. And…it really messes up your skin." Her breathing slowed and she closed her eyes. Wolfgang stared for a moment, wondering how someone dying could still look so nearly perfect. The few splatters of blood on her face drew a sharp contrast with her porcelain skin that made them appear as little petals falling from her rose tattoo. "Out of the way you useless piece of meat." Hemmingway shoved Wolfgang away from Rose ignoring his own wound as though it were a mere scratch. He reached in to an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out thread, needles, and scalpels. Everything that was necessary for an impromptu surgery. Hemmingway opened Rose's robe and unveiled her scar covered body. The number of scars were countless and all in perfect lines and expertly place. The only place without a single mark was the area around her heart. Blood gushed from the wound she had given herself. Hemmingway thread a needle and reached his fingers inside of the petit woman. In moments he removed his gloved fingers and sliced the thread with a quick twitch of a scalpel. He pulled a small flask labeled disinfectant from another pocket and splashed some on the wound. "Grab some cloth and clean off some of the blood." Wolfgang moved immediately opening his own bag and pulling out a whitish shirt and quickly followed Hemmingway's order. He had his doubts about the man's skill as a doctor, but all those disappeared when he saw the man go to work. The stomach was stitched in a moments, without a single wasted movement of Hemmingway's quick fingers. Even more rapidly he stitched her sliced arms, finally containing the woman's life back into her body. He breathed slowly and calmly as he covered up Rose's naked body. Her breathing had deepened and calmed. Wolfgang let the breath that had gotten caught in his throat free as she seemed to be more asleep than dying. "We can't move her for a few hours so we might as well rest here for the rest of the night. You look exhausted so get some sleep. She's stable and her magic will quicken the healing process. So don't worry, I've seen her survive worse injuries." Hemmingway leaned back on his arms where he sat next to the resting woman. "What was that? What did Rose do to that demon?" Wolfgang lay down, staring at the drying pool of crimson and silver where the demon had stood. "Rose use to be a member of the Bloodpath church. She never got beyond the rank of Priestess before they asked her to do something that she couldn't do. They wanted her to receive the Ley lines upon her face, but her own vanity prevented her from doing so. She wears the robe of the church to cover her shame, a scarred and imperfect body that she despises. What she did was their version of magic, incredible feats powered by the user's own blood, drawn from them by precise cuts into the body. These cuts must be placed perfectly on the bodies' ley lines, places where magic flows just like those upon our world. The things they can do are simply astounding but at great risk to their own health. That's how the two of us met actually." Hemmingway sighed as if thinking of better days. "Enough of this for now though. She'll speak more of it when she awakes if you ask." The doctor lay next to the woman, his back towards Wolfgang and his head resting on his arm. Wolfgang realized how little he knew of the people he had chosen to trust, then sleep gripped him and he was soon breathing the deep peaceful breaths of the completely drained.

A short little return post. My grand entrance will becoming soon.

Pax sat on a balcony looking out into the city. She listened closely, eyes shut, the wind throwing her hair in every direction as the traffic shot by. A hundred stories up and the airways of the city didn't get any less busy. Pax focused, let the whirl of the cars fade out, the honking of horns weaken until there was nothing left. Soon, all she could hear was a faint hum, a hum that wrapped around everything in the city. It was interwoven into every movement, every hustle and bustle of its people. She listened closer. She heard a beat, like a far off drum. So very faint at first, but growing louder with each pulsation. She listened to the city pulse. She waited for the heartbeat, felt the rhythm flow through her. There it was. She opened her eyes. And she jumped. Mr. Martin Stevens had been having a bad day. His boss's head seemed to be stuck even further up his ass everyday. Today, his boss told him he wanted the Durin accounts finished by the end of the week. That meant unpaid overtime all week. Not only was he still working on the Peterson account but his "friend" had gone out of town leaving him his accounts too. Nothing could possibly make this day worse. Except maybe fate. Pax waved to the very plain looking businessman as she passed through his roof and landed in the passenger seat. The man slammed the breaks and sent her flying through his windshield. She threw her arms up as she launched forward, rolled across the hood of his car, planted her feet above the front bumper and leapt forward into a front flip. The wind swept by. It grabbed at her and spun her around. She landed upon a transport with a light thud. She stood up straight and reached up, gripping tightly to a flag pole and letting her momentum swing her. At the zenith she released launching with her legs extended towards the night sky. She tilted back diving towards the streets below. A vehicle glided past and Pax pushed off towards the near by roofs. As she landed she rolled to her feet and took a deep breath. Not much farther towards her destination. Pax stepped toward the edge and looked over towards the alleyway, still very far below. She took a pair of black gloves out of the inside of her jacket. She took several steps back from the ledge then ran forward and jumped across the alley and catching onto a window sill. "Oh, crap.", Pax's soft voice escaped as she slipped from the window. She slid down the side of the building, hoping that the micro fibers in the gloves fingertips would grip the wall. No such luck today. All it did was slow her fall. Luckily, she landed in an open dumpster. "Gross." Pax sat up and sighed blowing her black hair out of her eyes. She hoped out of the dumpster, took off her gloves and turned the corner. "Allison! Hey your just in time for dinner.", A young man with very short brown hair stood outside of the restaurant who's dumpster she had just fallen into. "Hey, Bill. Glad I'm on time," Pax brushed some dirt off her jacket, "traffic was a bit rough."

The young man stared at the flickering candle, the only light in his study at this time of night. Or was it morning. He sighed as he place his quill inside the inkpot, and flicked at the red-hair hanging down into his good eye. Nothing had come to mind, not a single random thought or sudden burst of imagination. He had wasted the entire day trying to create adventure or drama on paper but in the end all he had done was waste another perfectly good day to go and have some himself. He stood from his desk and grabbed his purple silk jacket from the chair. He belted his blades into place and flipped his top hat off the table and placed it upon his head. "There. The unnecessarily long prep scene is now complete, I can now head off." The crimson haired man stepped out of his room into a hallway he never walked into before. Not the hallway itself of course, but the rooms in the hallway had seemed to shift and float around the keep. He walked down the new hallway in the direction he had come to believe was the direction out of the keep. He usually made it to the front gate in a little under the weather. On his way out he came across several other pennites, including Wyvern, who was always thinking of another "Get-geld" quick scheme, getting ready for another almost report with his almost intern, Cheermynx. He gave them both a quick bow of respect before continuing on down the hall and seeing sight that made him try and block his line of sight. It was Tzimfemme striding nude, as was her preference, down the hall her mind wrapped in thoughts none could discern. "Good evening.", The self-made noble said without removing his hand from his right eye. The vampire didn't respond, as though she couldn't hear him. He shrugged and continue his way to the gate. As he headed down the stairs he caught a glimpse of the pen's resident ninja, Kikuyu, disappearing down the stairs, most likely off to catch up with the towers shifter, Degorram. He continued down the stairs and walked past his good friend Ozymandias, who seemed fairly preoccupied with important. He reached the front gate faster then normal. Ah well. "Good night fair keep, and may you be safe from harm. I shall return.", The young man waved farewell to the keep, the gate opening upon a beautiful dawn lit sky."Oh, it was morning then wasn't it?" (I'm taking a short hiatus from writing at the moment till I get a little less busy. Hope to be posting again soon.)

Tuesday looked around her small room, in her small house. She stepped out of her small bed and walked over to her small closet. She started getting ready for the day. As she pulled her shirt over her head, she saw a young woman walk in to her room. "Good morning Tuesday!", The slightly pale woman said as she flipped her brown hair off her shoulder. Her brown eyes took in the entirety of the room, which was not much. The little girls father couldn't afford to buy her more then the clothes she owned and her small bed. He worked hard but ever since the late Lord took control of the kingdom the economy had been in a downward spiral. Tuesday always seemed fairly happy any way. But that's why she was here, to make sure Tuesday didn't suffer in these rough times. The little red-headed girl always seemed to be in a good mood. She was never sad and even brought a smile to her tired father's face. "Oh! Good morning Ms. Alyssa! How are you doing today?" "I'm just fine as always. Never any problems on my side of the pasture. But, more importantly how are you doing my little breath of life?" She asked Tuesday as the little rambunctious girl bounced out of her room and down the hall. "I'm doing good. Daddy seemed a little sad last night so I'm gonna go get him a present!" The little girl seemed so excited as she washed her face, the grime of the previous day washed away. "Really. What are you going to get him? A frog?" "Nope." "Then a bouquet of flowers from outside of town?" "Nuh-uh." "Okay then. What are you going to get him?" Ms. Alyssa asked the little girl, who was now heading for the stairs, that was seeming to get more excited about this gift the more they spoke of it. This brought a smile to the woman's pale face. "I'll show you later." the little girl said, with a mischievous smile on her cute little freckled face, as she turned into the kitchen where her father was making breakfast. It was absolutely adorable. As she rounded the corner her father continued to cook a tired look on his face which was wrinkled by hard work and a harder life. "Tuesday! Who are you talking to?" He said to her in a joking tone. Tuesday turned to Ms. Alyssa, gave her the quiet sign, a finger placed against her lips, "Nobody Daddy!" He turned to his daughter who had started to take a seat at his home built table. She was alone as usual. The amount of times he had caught her talking to herself was increasing. It had been this way ever since she was little. She seemed to do fine by herself, never lonely or sad, so at least he had that to be thankful for. "So, what do you have planned for today my little angel?", Father asked Tuesday as he set her bowl of porridge down on the table. She dove in merrily savoring every bite of the cheap meal. She was one of the happiest children he had ever seen. "Oh. Not very much Daddy. Just gonna go exploring with my friends." She said looking straight into her porridge. He could tell that was not all together true, but what could he do. He didn't have the money to hire some one to look after her while he was at work. Hopefully she wouldn't go any where that was dangerous. He had taught her that well at least. After breakfast they walked to the front door together. He reached down and gave his daughter a hug, while she leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then he walked out the door and headed to the mill for work. "Alright, Ms. Alyssa, Daddy left so we can talk now." Tuesday said as she closed the door and turned to look for her friend. Ms. Alyssa always won at hide and seek but that didn't stop Tuesday from trying. She headed to the kitchen, red hair following her like a banner. Nope not there. She headed upstairs. Should she check the bedroom or the water closet first? She went into the bedroom, and peeked around the door frame. Nope, but maybe she's in the closet, that was always Tuesday's favorite hidey hole. She open the door with as much speed as her little frame could muster. Empty. She started walking towards the door. "Boo!", Ms. Alyssa stepped into the room and shouted as she caught Tuesday completely by surprise, "Eventually your not going to let me sneak up on you so easily. Till then Tuesday your just adorable with a look of surprise on your face." "Ms. Alyssa! That's not funny. You always win at hide and seek. It's not fair." Tuesday said with her best pout. "Oh really. Well little miss last time I checked we always play hide and seek when your father leaves. And we usually have this same discussion after I win. Then later you say, "Oh we are playing tomorrow right?" And I say sure thing." Ms. Alyssa said as she leaned down to be face to face with the little girl she had made her ward. Tuesday started smiling as soon as Ms. Alyssa stopped talking. She walked over to the door of her little home and placed her hand the door knob. "Yup. So ready to go see what I'm gonna get Daddy?", Tuesday turned to say to her best friend. Ms. Alyssa nodded her agreement and headed towards the door. As they stepped outside the dim light of the overcast day filtered through Ms. Alyssa turning her slightly transparent. That was one of the things about being dead that Ms. Alyssa could never get use to. Being able to see through herself was always going to be slightly unnerving. That and the fact that she couldn't communicate with most people and her only connection to the world was an eight year old girl. The two of them walk through the slowly dying town of Hallow's Rest. The cobbles of the streets were all in need of repair, many of them were crack or missing. Many of the homes needed to be thatched before the rains came in a few more weeks. All of the merchants had stopped even trying to sell to the towns people, for very few had the money for things other than food or drink. Those that did have the money spent it on liquor. Every since the rebellion the smaller town died while the great war machine of the current empire grew larger and larger. But, these things did not dampen the mood of the eternally cheerful Tuesday. They walked out of town ignoring the jeers of gangs of children and cawing of old crones as they bicker back and forth. Outside of Hallow's Rest the near by forests had nearly over taken the once lush farmlands. Most of these lands, including the grounds of the town, were all farm land for the now dead kingdom. At one point in a time long past these lands provided food for thousands of loyal citizens. Now it was just a deep, forbidding forest and a dying town. The two companions gaily walked in chatting all the while of what each gray cloud looked like and never actually agreeing on a particular shape. Eventually the forest began to twist and bend in the opposite direction then they were heading. Under even the slightest examination the forest seemed to be turning tail and running away from that side of the forest. At this point the very sounds of the forest seemed to be muffled into silence, the fear that had infected the trees strangling the chirps of crickets and birdsongs into silence. "Um...where are we going Tuesday? I don't believe we have ever gone this far into the woods before." Ms. Alyssa said eyeing the woods around and thinking she couldn't remember being this scared in a long time. Not since before she died. "I don't wanna tell you because it's a surprise! And we haven't gone this way before. Normally we walk around but it'll take way to long. So we're going through!", Tuesday continued to bounce through the woods undisturbed by the frightening woods. They weren't even following any path simply walking through the mangled trees, Tuesday with an apparently unerring sense of direction. The trees started to thin as the woods successfully escaped their dread. Then Ms. Alyssa realized where Tuesday had been leading her. Before the two of them stretched a great field that seemed to end where the northern mountains began. Wheat, corn, and barley stretched for miles. The amount of people it would take to man this agrarian metropolis would be more than all the farms in the region currently had. But, Ms. Alyssa new that even though this farm could give work to every man in Hallow's Rest, none of them would even dare go near it. For although they had forget that it lay just beyond the woods they still knew of it. The Dread Acres, as this farmland had been called for nearly a century, scared every man in this kingdom. Even the army would never go near it. Yet from this perspective it look quiet peaceful. Almost serene. "Over here Ms. Alyssa! The present for Daddy is over here!" Tuesday shouted as she headed for the only orchard Ms. Alyssa had ever seen. It was acres of apples. Apples! She hadn't even seen an apple while she was alive let alone eaten one. She was going to get her father an apple! If he even saw it he would know that she had been out to the Dread Acres. "Tuesday! You can't give your father one of those apples! He won't take it and you'll just make him mad!" Ms. Alyssa shouted after the bouncing wave of red hair as she bound through the fields. Tuesday stopped, and turned to Ms. Alyssa as the woman simply passed through the waves of grain. "Why not Ms. Alyssa? I've never even seen an apple except in pictures! I think he'd love an apple! It's the best gift ever! I bet the lord hasn't even had an apple like this in his life!", Tuesday shouted, the amount of excitement increasing with each sentence. She was right about that last one though Ms. Alyssa sighed and shook her head. There was no way to convince her otherwise now that she was this excited. That and really, what could she do other than convince her? The pair walked towards the magnificent orchard. The orchard was beautiful with tree branches decorated with leaves of emerald and fist sized red jewels ripe for harvesting. Tuesday rushed over to the first tree and leapt onto it, pulling herself up and climbed into its branches. Even a squirrel might not have been able climb it so smoothly. "Oh! Be careful! You know I can't catch you Tuesday! Don't go to high! Oh...", Ms. Alyssa shouts up at Tuesday who seems to be going much higher than necessary. The small child reached out for a shiny ruby-red apple. As gentle little fingers gripped the apple Ms. Alyssa saw the worst moment of her life, and her death, pass before her eyes. Alas, Tuesday regained her balance and pulled the apple down. She set in carefully in a small pouch Ms. Alyssa hadn't even seen her bring. Then she reached for another. And another. The pouch was full so Tuesday started to climb back down to meet with Ms. Alyssa and head back home. The two started back, a sudden break in the clouds sent light cascading across the fields. "Ms. Alyssa look at the field! It's so pretty!", Tuesday exclaimed. Ms. Alyssa started to agree when she noticed something strange. Birds sat in the trees outside the field, but none of them would even approach the apple orchard or even the corn. She looked up and saw a flock of birds flying straight for the field but as the birds crossed the forest they suddenly turned. It was as though they wouldn't actually cross into the area around the field. It was so very bizarre. "Ms. Alyssa?" Tuesday had started heading over to edge of the fields. "Right. Sorry, Tuesday I was lost in thought.", Ms. Alyssa forced the thought to the back of her mind. As they started to enter forest, "Actually, Tuesday let's take the long way back. That part of the woods gives me the willies." Ms. Alyssa said as her mind gave her the exact same feeling her body would have felt when she was alive. A shiver down her spine. The pair eventually made it back to the outskirts of Hallow's Rest. The few people left on the streets where drunks who had started wandering home, but Tuesday paid them little mind. As she approached her home, one of the apples fell from her pouched. Tuesday watched as it fell, time slowing as the apple rolled and bounced across the broken cobbles until it stopped at a man's boot. The boot's owner, a man who appeared middle-aged wearing the colors of the late Lord Pendacross, reached down with a dark gloved hand and held the apple aloft. "My, my. Where did you come across such a fine piece of fruit, girly? The only apple trees that the Lord has sanctioned bear fruit only for him and his court. You haven't been out stealing from the Lord have you?", The man smirked as he talked, spittle flicking from between his thin lips and each word showing a mouth of hideous browning fangs. "I found it, Sir. As I went walking around the forest near the road. It must have fallen from a cart.", Tuesday turned to the man, her self-assurance causing him to reassess the small girl. "It's just a misunderstanding, ehh girly? Well, then give me the ones you got in your bag and all's forgiven.", the foul breath and teeth causing Ms. Alyssa to retreat from his presence. "No." "No? I must be hearing things girly, I thought you just declined a member of the Lord's military. Give me the apples girly and I'll promise to forget the disrespect." The man reached down and grabbed her pouch and held it aloft. He took a bit of the apple that had fallen, chewing loudly and spraying flecks of red skin and juice into Tuesday's face. Ms. Alyssa watched in agony as Tuesday's goal is crushed between twin sets of brown and rotting jaws. Tuesday handled it fairly well though. She simply turned and walked into her house to the sound of the horrible soulless laughter of a man turned monster. Ms. Alyssa peered into the house and saw Tuesday choking her sobs and strangling back her tears with all the force her small frame could muster. Ms. Alyssa imagined a knot forming in her stomach. All she wanted to do was protect this little girl and comfort her. What could she do but comfort though. She wished she could throw her arms around the sobbing child and embrace her as if she were her own daughter. But she could not. She would never again be able to hold anything she cared for. Ms. Alyssa walked up to Tuesday as her own eyes gave forth her very sadness with each droplet that landed at her feet. "Tuesday. I'm so sorry. I wish I could have done something. I can't stand to see you treated like that. I wish-", Ms. Alyssa sobbed sending a shower tears upon the dirty wooden floor, a wet patch forming on the floor near her knees as she knelt down beside Tuesday. "I-Its alright Ms. A-Alyssa. I know y-you do. I just w-wish I could have g-gotten Daddy a g-gift!", Tuesday started to bawl as the emotions burst through. This was everything she had been holding back. The tears she didn't cry when she missed her father. The tears she forced herself to forget to cry when she lost her mother. Every time the ragtag gangs of children laughed at her or called her names. All of these came through her emotional dam. She cried. Not simple sobbing or childish bawling. She cried as if she had never cried before. As though she would never stop crying. The tears poured through as her sobbing caused her to convulse slightly, as though each sob was to large for her lungs to fuel. Ms. Alyssa joined in and sobbed unbeknownst to all but Tuesday. Time passed and eyes dried up. Sobbing convalesced into deep slow breaths. Tuesday and Ms. Alyssa calmed down, the whirlwind of emotions relaxing into a soft breeze of calm, relaxed breaths. Ms. Alyssa finally ventured a smile at Tuesday. Tuesday eagerly returned a weaker smile, as she continued to relax. "I feel a lot better Ms. Alyssa. Sorry if I made you sad.", the eternally cheerful child floating back up to the surface, the still wet cheeks giving her face an appearance of even greater innocence. "It's alright my little breath of life. I feel a lot better know. Seems I had a lot more pent up than I thought. Glad your feeling a lot better. Let's go and relax a bit more before your father gets home.", Ms. Alyssa turned her smile up another degree of bright. "Right! I had forgot all about that. I still don't have a gift for daddy. What am I going to do? I still need to make him feel better." Tuesday frowned as this thought bubbled up to the surface. "Oh, that's alright. Let's go back to that orchard tomorrow and get him a few more apples. We'll just be more careful when we get back to town. It'll be as easy... as easy as apple pie!", Ms. Alyssa laughed as Tuesday beamed at this. Tuesday went upstairs to wash-up and remove the evidence of tears as not to worry her father any more than he already did. As she did he walked through the door, letting the sweat from a hard day's work slip from his brow to join the tears on the floor. He headed straight for the kitchen and placed some wood in the stove and left the kitchen to enter the basement were the food was kept. He came back upstairs to a smiling freckled face stoking the fire in the stove. "Hello Daddy! I'm ready to help you cook dinner.", Tuesday rushed over and grabbed her fathers arm and pulled his tired form over to the stove. "Alright, alright Tuesday. Go out back and fill up a pitcher of water." He motions her towards the door before she gaily grabs a pitcher and heads outside. He starts chopping up a little piece meat and even less vegetables and throws them into a pot. Tuesday returns, walking carefully with a pitcher nearly overflowing with water, each step placed softly in hopes of saving as much of the contents as possible. The water goes into the pot, as does some spices that Tuesday's father keep around for cooking. The pot sits as the mixture comes to a boil. Tuesday happily eats the stew. Then the two of them will talk as he takes a seat in front of the stove, kicking off his boots. Tuesday starts to yawn, the night dwindles down and the moon takes it seat higher and higher in the sky. Ms. Alyssa watches all of this and smiles, a terribly sad smile. The cheery little face kisses the worn, weather-beaten visage of the tired man before shuffling upstairs into her small room and crawls into her small bed, Ms. Alyssa standing next to her softly singing a lullaby until Tuesday drifts off. Slumbering peacefully. The next day starts just like most. Tuesday bounces out of her small bed, and heads to her small closet. As she dresses Ms. Alyssa enters and they chat while Tuesday gets ready for the day. After washing her face she heads down to the kitchen where her father is finishing breakfast. They both eat with Ms. Alyssa watching. Father and Daughter walk towards the door. They hug and Tuesday gives him a loving kiss. After he leaves Ms. Alyssa and Tuesday play hide and seek. Once again, Ms. Alyssa wins. "Boo!", Ms. Alyssa shouts as Tuesday steps out of the closet. "Alright Ms. Alyssa you said we could go get daddy some apples! Let's go!", Tuesday replies prepared for the sudden appearance. "I did say that. I just think it would be better if we didn't go back to those fields. And they might just get taken away again." Ms. Alyssa retorts while trying to keep her own loathing of the fields hidden behind rationality. "We'll just bring a bigger bag with us so that the apples can't fall.", Tuesday ignores Ms. Alyssa's rationality and counters with her own. "Fine. Let's just go already." As the two pasted through Hallow's Rest it was much quieter than the previous day. The harvest had begun, so many of the children had gone with their fathers to help. The military had moved into the town to ensure that the Lord received the proper share of this years yield. Yet, no one questioned the little girl walking towards the forests. As the two arrived in the beautiful fields from the previous day, which Ms. Alyssa knew as the "Dread Acres", the deceased woman could have sworn she saw a tall man in a wide-brimmed hat walking through the field. She shook the thought off rationalizing with the fact that no one ever entered the fields. They entered the orchard and Ms. Alyssa watched nervously as Tuesday climbed swiftly towards the apples. "Careful now Tuesday." "Don't worry Ms. Alyssa, I'm a good climber." Ms. Alyssa watched nervously as the little girl climbed up the tree and across the branches. She heard the crunch of someone walking across the grass, and saw out of the corner of her eye what looked like a tall man in a wide-brimmed hat. As she turned she didn't see anything but that nagging thought that someone else was in the orchard gnawed at the forefront of her mind, while the nervousness kept her eyes darting up to Tuesday. Again she hears footsteps closer now, but as she turns she doesn't see anyone. Suddenly, Tuesday screams, time slows down for Ms. Alyssa as she turns to see Tuesday slipping from a branch and falling head first towards the hard earth. She closed her eyes waiting for the sickening sound of Tuesday's body impacting. It doesn't come. As Ms. Alyssa opened her eyes the twisted knot of her imaginary intestines tightened even more. She screamed, a feat she hadn't done since her death. "It's okay Ms. Alyssa.", Tuesday said completely unfazed by the fall, the scream, or the figure holding her, "He seems nice." Ms. Alyssa stared in wonderment at the figure before her, the one she had seen walking through the fields on the way to the orchard. It wore a man's wide-brimmed hat and the dress of a well-to-do farm owner. Beneath the brim was not a man's face, but the cloth-skinned face of a scarecrow, with emotionless button-eyes and a stitched unmoving mouth. It was much taller than Ms. Alyssa, at least 2 heads, and straw could be seen jutting out of several of his joints. Ms. Alyssa couldn't escape the feeling that it was staring straight at her. As if it could see her. The scarecrow gently set Tuesday down, then turned and started to pick the apples from the tree. The alacrity at which this proceeded was astounding. It cleaned the tree of apples in the time it would have taken three men. It carried the barrel for the apples as it proceed to the next tree. As it stepped past Tuesday it stopped. It took the apples Tuesday had picked for her father and added them to his barrel. "Hey! I really need that to give it my dad as a gift. Please Mr. Scarecrow, let me have just one!" Tuesday turned to the scarecrow. It stopped walking and seemed to hesitate for just a moment as the little girl pleaded for one apple. Ms. Alyssa stared in surprise as the scarecrow reached into the barrel and handed an apple to Tuesday. As the little girl thanked it Ms. Alyssa could have sworn she saw the stitches shape into a smile. For some time after this the two sat and watched the scarecrow work, plucking away as if the devil himself wanted these apples. Soon the scarecrow was far in the distance, finishing the other end of the orchard. It was the quickest farm work Ms. Alyssa had ever seen even when she was alive. Eventually it worked its was back on the opposite side. "Goodbye, Mr. Scarecrow!", Tuesday waved as it approached ,"We've gotta go but we'll be seeing you!" It waved back. (So, I read it and a whole paragraph was just awful and unnecessary. It's gone now. I feel a little better about this piece now. No more posting in the nearly dawn hours for me. )

All around me are faces that seem to blend with the thousands I've seen in my long life. The buildings seem worn, as though time itself was trying to tear them down. I take a long drag on my cigarette, filling my lungs. It's nearing dusk, and a depressing sun sets on another day passed. The sky is tinged red, the sun calling for blood before he rests. Hope walks down the street, entertaining an old man with her swaying hips. He is so entranced he can see the look the disgust hidden deep within her dolled up face. She'll soon come over and ask for a cigarette, because their is always the hope I'll give her one. I hear a shout to my left, at the top of the street. I gaze up and see a young blond girl charge into the street, a car careening into her before she can make it two steps towards what looks like cats. The driver is flung from his car, the concrete breaking his bones and twisting his flesh into a bloody pulp. A tad odd. The driver should still be seated, racing away from his guilt. My curiosity gets the best of me so I let it drag me over. As I get closer, to my surprise, the girl is fine. She stands and stares straight at me, unblinking. I step around her, look from her to the destroyed car then to the pulp that had driven it. I can tell just by looking at her she isn't normal, forget the fact she was just hit by a car doing at least fifty miles an hour. Moss has started to grow on her tattered dress under the arm and on the back of her neck. She didn't even go ten feet from the impact point. It simply knocked her over. The most interesting feature of this accident is after being hit by a careening vehicle she was still focused enough to catch herself. I'm intrigued She cocks her head like a confused dog. "Hey, you look a little lost. Know where your headed?" I asked her, kicking a chunk of metal away from me.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. That is one of the many truths of the world, inherent in all life. Nothing lives forever, or withstands the tests of time. Eventually you break no matter how far you can bend. These truths are self evident in the world. But, if you were to look at the world through my eyes, beyond the shades of black and white and into the realms of color then you would understand that the world is not alone. Along our world their lies another, on the other side of the mirror, waiting for its chance to slip right through. It is home to the things that go bump in the night. Home to the great heroes and villains. Many great legends have been born of this, from Pandora's box to Atlantis. In this world of legend these rules do not apply. All things exist, future, past, and present, together. My father had seen this mirror world, this world of monsters and myth. He had crossed over when that world had slip into ours, upon the full moon, as had the new legends. And while their he stole some of the clay of creation, for in this world beings were sculpted into life, allowing them to live until destroyed. But, just as each creation held a weakness inherent in its being in the mirror world, his creations were not whole. They lacked a soul. They were simply shells waiting for orders. My father, driven to insanity by his failure to create life, did the unthinkable. He returned to the other side of the mirror, and bound an elemental to the form he had crafted of the clay. When he returned to this world he commanded me, born of clay and stolen soul, to live. As soon as these words had escaped his lips, his eyes dimmed, for he had finally returned to the dust from which he came. I stood next to him, not understanding the command I had been given. So I did as my sisters did, those he had created before me, and took care of the home he had built in a wooded area far from civilization. Eventually my sisters stopped working. Time had taken its toll on the home, and even with the best care the home couldn't last as long as we could work. The building rotted into disrepair. My sisters all stood still. I could here the words still echoing in my head. Live. He told me to live, yet what was that. I must find out what he wanted. So I left my sisters standing in a grove, and walked. I did not have a concept of time so I cannot even estimate for how long but I walked. Eventually, I came upon a small town. It's name is of no consequence, and the population even more so. They did not have the answers I sought. I continued out of the town, and walked more. Many vehicles stopped and their owners asked me if I would like a ride. At the time I did not understand so I simply kept walking. I arrived in a larger settlement and came across some furred animals. One was yellow and the other black. As I walked, they followed. As I wandered the convoluted streets they followed closer, meowing every now and then. At one point I stopped, the sun setting, and reveled in the sight I had never truly seen. It's light glinted off of the many tall buildings sending rays cascading in every direction. It was beautiful. My peace was disturbed as a man's voice shouting. I turned to see a man at a stand yelling at my animal companions. I saw them eyeing the items he had. It was a brown tube on another tube of tan and white. I walked over took the tube and gave it to the animals. "Hey! What are ya doin'! You gotta pay fer that!", The cart's owner shouted hand held out. His odor was quite bad, stinking of day old sweat. "I am sorry. I do not understand what you mean." I responded while cocking my head to the side in a look my father had referred to as "quizzical". "What are ya? A foreigner? Get outta here and take the damn cats with ya!" The man continued to yell flicking his wrist at me in a gesture I now know is "go away". I grabbed the damn cats and the tube they had started to eat. It slipped from my hands and rolled into the middle of the road. The damn cats leaped from my arms and chased after it. I followed, not understanding the desire to protect my pets. As I stepped in to the road I was suddenly struck from behind. I stretched out my arms to prevent myself from landing on the damn cats. I stood up to see a man in a long coat and glasses, a smoking stick held loosely between his lips, the slight breeze whipping his blonde hair the tiniest amount. He walked around me, a confused look upon his face. Then he looked at the vehicle that had struck me, it's pieces littering the street and the owner sprawled across the now wet and red pavement (Sorry about the wait. Really didn't know where this was gonna come from and here it is.)

Walnut sat straight up in his chair, pricking his finger as he loses focus on his tailoring. A strange meaty scent wafted through the air. What was this strange scent? Normally his keen sense of smell would pick out what it was, but this scent was beyond his ability to comprehend. He place his tailoring aside, promising to finish the new suit tomorrow, and grabbed his favorite top hat. He headed following his nose as he wandered out of his room, eyes closed as he ambles past armies of dust bunnies. Quicker than he even thought possible he exited through the main gates of the keep. Walnut proceeded until he came upon what must be a fairy camp, light with strange hanging lights. He gazed upon a table layered with what appeared to be various types of sausage, more than he could have ever imagined possible. His mouth watered and he immediately grabbed a plate and through on as many kinds of meat as he could. He almost started to eat when two young men caught his eye and so did a small creature he had meet before. The Death of Rats! Now, who had set this up so he may be a gentleman... Walnut walked towards the three and cleared his throat.

Wow. The song goes perfectly. It's very creepy.

After what seemed like hours of riding, Rupert stopped whistling. A group of men stood in the road, each armed and masked but one. Reginald stood in the middle, resting his arms upon the haft of a battleaxe. Rupert stopped the carriage, looking at them with a slight smirk. "Now, have'n ye ever been told tha' this is the most clichéd way of robbin' someone? I mean, today's bandits don't wear masks. Nor do just stand there lookin' like they jus' had the winning hand!" The men looked at each other, wondering who this man thought he was. He was actually talking down to a group of armed bandits. Reginald looked up at Rupert, a smirk across his face. "So, ye really think that a smart mouth is going to make us let ye leave. Another word from yer mouth and we'll cut those lips from yer head", Reginald pointed his axe at Rupert, the muscles in his arm straining to keep it aloft. "Fine. Ye win. Make off with m' goods and money. Doom a poor man." Rupert's smirk turning to a frown as the words crossed his lips. The brigands laughed, walking up to the carriage. Reginald headed straight for the door on the side. He swung the door open, the look on his face turning to shock. "Now, now, ye really shouldn't do that.", The voice of Sieglinde echoed from inside the helm. As she alighted from her seat inside the carriage it groaned as that entire side dipped noticeably, as she put all of her weight into the small door frame. The carriage sighed with relief as she stepped from it. "No, ye really should have thought about yer actions." Reginald retorted, the smirk returning to his face, "Did ye really think that the imperium wouldn't notice all these bounties. Each sheriff or mayor made mention of an armored woman. So come with me and my men." At these words all the men tore off their tunics to reveal imperial chain shirts. Rupert held his head in his hand. They had been tricked so handily. He took a glance over at Sieglinde, the armor hid her face but her body language said it all. Of course she was mad about the ease with which she was fooled. Only a fool would be simply enough to be tricked so easily. Rupert laughed out loud at the idea. He realized he was a fool at the moment several swords swung in his direction. "M' apologizes. I didn' mean to startle ye. Jus' havin' a funny thought.", Rupert shrugged.

Much obliged Wyv. Definitely going to expand on the characters and they probably have their work cut out for them ahead. I just haven't taken the time to write it yet. Thanks again!

The gout of flame knocked the crimson wolf into the air, the scent of his charred flesh and burning fur mixing with the acidic, undulating scent of pure hatred. He hit the ground with the force of a cannon ball. His pain blurring out his vision, the only image he had of the necromancer and those near him was the one his mind formed from his other senses. The strange smell of the necromancer's blood sent horrible wave of fear through his body already spasming with pain. The horrors this foul being had caused, the wicked deeds of his life covering the scent of his blood. Walnut's body spasmed as the fur, what remained at least, sunk back into the tender burnt flesh. He gasped in agony as his skin sheered off from the touch of green blades. Steam poured from his burnt body even as the spasms died. The bloods scent had faded. Walnut's voice escaped his throat in spurts. "Her soul...oh my...he nearly has it..." Even as these words escaped the charred remains of his lips the Elder struck.

The joint less undead couldn't move enough to be a threat. Sir Ordolar's strength and skill had been very useful Walnut thought. The large wolf limped toward the unconscious Wyvern, a trail of wolf blood mixing with the ichor and rot of the undead. He whined, his injured paw grasped by a severed hand. He cocked his head, raising his remaining ear and caught a single word. "Die..." He really wished he could, but he could not stop. Not until his new home was safe. He grabbed the severed, rotting flesh in his jaws and tossed it away. A deep breath caused his nostrils to burn, the pepper on Wyvern flying into his powerful nose. The pepper? Oh no...

"My pleasure," Walnut growled. He started to change, first his clothes, then his form. The large red wolf slammed into the zombie elite. He tore at their faces and chests and limbs. The clawed at him in response, leaving blooding trails through his thick fur. He snarled in anger then let out a howl that spoke volumes. He squared off with a rotting corpse and leaped. A blur of movements later and the creature was no longer whole. This had allowed the monsters to grab the wolf, their limbs grip was like iron, having the strength of the dead on their side. The wolf whined in pain as their fingers dug into his flesh. Suddenly, gentle hands placed something around his neck. "Wear this it will protect you, but only once." Walnut remembered that he fought not only for his life, but for the honor of the pen keep. He ripped free, leaving clumps of matted bloody fur with bits of flesh still clinging to them in the hands of his attackers. A sudden flash of light illuminated more of the area and he saw a disturbing sight. The pieces he had torn from his foes were clawing their way towards him. Well, he thought, I really must work harder to put these things down. So he rushed forward knocking one of the dead upon its back . Then he crushed the beasts head between his jaws, the ichor dripping from his fangs. If you had ever doubted a wolf's ability to smile, the face the wolf made would have convinced you other wise. Suddenly, an alien scent, mixed with the throbbing, pulsating scent of anger. Across the clearing, Walnut could see a strange black creature with wings escape from the box that had confined Degorram. Good, he thought, this battle ends soon.

As Sieglinde stepped out of her room, again wearing her armor, to see Rupert slowly walking towards the steps. He turned to see her and let out a sigh. "Damn. I was hoping ta sneak away. Ye threw th' armor on pretty quick." "Stop wasting our time. Ye have to start paying me back.", Sieglinde responded as she lightly shoved Rupert towards the stairs. "Wha' work. These small towns have no work." Sieglinde smiled as she handed him a sheet of parchment, "No work?" Rupert stared at the paper with some disbelief, "Bounty hunting? Ye mus' be mad! I am no fighter! Tha' shot yesterday was pure luck. I was aimin' fer his leg!" Sieglinde put on her helmet, making her voice echo slightly, "Ye should have thought about that before ye drank yer self dumb." She grabbed Rupert by the arm as he continued to voice his opinion about making him fight. Mostly his opinion was, "Ouch, hey stop tha' hurts. Ye are mad.", and maybe a couple things about how he couldn't really fight. Sieglinde didn't much care. She could hold her own and most criminals seemed to underestimate anyone not wearing imperial armor. If Rupert died it would be horrible, but he should be able to avoid getting stuck like a pig. He seemed pretty shifty and quick. "So, Rupert, where is the foul criminal ye think?", Sieglinde asked as she pulled Rupert into the street. "How should I know? I've only been ta Keeper's Rest a coupla times. And it's na like I go around with criminals." Sieglinde considered these facts. He did have a point. Well, the best bet would be to set up a trap. The bounty, Reginald C. Walnut, had committed murder and several robberies on the trade road leading into town. So a simple guise would be to rent a wagon and horse. After a few preparations the wagon set out, Rupert whistling loudly and out of tune behind the reigns. "Must ye perform so obviously badly? He'll know for sure that this is a trap!" Sieglinde echoed from the rear of the wagon. "Aye, m' acting is fine. It's the loud armored fella in the back that'll give us away!", Rupert jeered her on. "Fellow? That is not in good humor.", Sielginde voice had started to increase to a yell, "And, I am not that loud. Am I?" "Its all in good fun. Ye just relax back there, he'll be on us before ye can say Sulfameth.", Rupert responded, followed with more whistling. It was even more out of tune.

The battle came to a close, Walnut having done nothing worthy of noting. Walnut paused for a moment, giving the fallen knight a moment of silence. The explosion had deafened him, so silence was the easy part. Walnut was barely standing, his ears ringing out in agony. He looked around. The others seemed slightly stunned, the heavy armor simply gone. But Walnut didn't worry for he was sure he would see the orc again. No one with a noble soul died in that fashion, He was sure of it. Then, Walnut realized that he was very dirty. The explosion and covered him in grit and dust. He set about dusting himself feverishly, worried that the suit might have been damaged. Moments later he let out a sigh of relief, the dirt was gone and the suit itself was unharmed. "Well! Shall we sally forth? This Dego is in need of our assistance! Sir Ordolar wouldn't want us to dally.", He said in a surprisingly cheerful tone.