Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Amarathia

Script

Script

Adorable Homewrecker
Benefactor
as written by Tiko

The sun had only just begun to peak over the horizon as the warm glow of dawn settled across the plains of Amarathia, but the fresh layering of snow from the night prior served to reflect the light and add a clear visibility to the morning.

The caravan had already swelled to a respectable size with nearly twenty wagons, carts, and carriages preparing to depart, with more yet to arrive. It was a popular time of year for settlers to make their way to the outlying towns and cities of Amarathia so that they could arrive as the winter months where just beginning to give way to spring. For families looking to start a life out there, it meant they had the whole of the new year to prepare for the following winter.

Also joining the gathering wagons where riders armed to the teeth. Swords-for-hire. They ranged greatly in race and garb, but they all shared in their purpose of protecting the caravan in its journey across the Amarathian plains.
 
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as written by Nevan

Kalrai sat upon a chest with a semi-circular lid and ran a rectangular whetstone down the edge of one of his swords. The ringing of the grind felt like music to his ears in the early morning, comparable to the voice of the most beautiful songstress; a fact he needed to hold on to considering he was aware of no such person journeying with them.

Back in the days of the life of an outlaw, the free women would often sing for the camp and play their lutes. In the beginning Kalrai had never understood this, nor was it appreciated, but eventually the gesture grew on him until he almost felt like a travelling group would make half speed without cheerful song.

"Are ye ready, Master Ork?" Asked a humble, middle-aged man. He planned to open an inn and had taken it upon himself to refer to everyone as though they held superior status to himself. Kalrai found the man to be one of the few who spoke to him with respect, despite the extreme prejudice held against the barbaric Orks of the north and soon realized the innkeeper was one of the few people he could stand to be around. "We'll be headin' off soon."

"Almost," the Half-Ork replied, watching his own orange eyes in the shining blade. "Just need to make sure that I can cut through a shield if I need to."

Finally finished, Kalrai stood and brushed himself down. A little taller and better-built than every other he had seen in the caravan procession, he wore a light and leather strapped armour made of hardened hide; an almost full suit that included a cuirass, shoulder, arm, hand and leg guards. His boots, on the other hand, were currently made of a hide sole with fur outing to protect his feet against the cold. He had another, more water-proof pair of boots in his pack for nastier weather.

The most striking feature people would see about his attire, however, would likely be what was on his head. Despite a fur scarf and cloak around his neck, and a head full of messy, dreadlocked hair, Kalrai had upon the top of his head the face-plate of an Ork skull with the lower jaw and teeth removed. It was strapped to his head by strong twine and seemed to form some sort of mask that he could wear over his face. Most people, he realized, weren't sure whether to find comfort or dread with this knowledge.

"I'll be heading to my post now, Keep," he told the man using the only name he had for him, "I'll see you when we next stop."

"Be lookin' after y'rself Master Ork," the Innkeeper replied with a nod, watching as the Half-Ork walked away.
 
as written by Loreth

Punctuality was one thing Sava practically demanded of her students since she herself hated to be so much as a minute late. As it was, the carriage driver did not seem to hold with the same code and therefore it was a bit after dawn when her carriage arrived to join the rest of the Caravan. Inside the marginally comfortable carriage that was a bland dark wood color, Sava glared daggers in the general direction of her driver that would ease into a light scowl as they stopped. Opening the door herself, she glanced around the group to see who else had joined and would be traveling with. Since it would be several weeks of trip together there would be plenty of time to converse but for now she watched the guards with curiosity. Her life may very well depend on them and she was impressed by the mercenaries and their obvious confidence.

~So long as it's not bravado... The last thing I want to do is trust my life to a group of inexperienced greenhorns.~ A quick glare at her driver punctuated the thought. ~They certainly look more reliable then this man. I wouldn't even be surprised if he was lost already!~ Chuckling to herself, she settled back into her seat with the door open, her book in her lap though closed. ~So many are going with us. Should be interesting to see what sorts are making the trip.~

Dressed in a more comfortable pair of linen trousers and a soft cream-colored shirt that billowed around her thin frame, she tapped a knee-length booted foot. ~Why am I so eager to make this trip. It's new, certainly, and will give me plenty of time to apply toward my research on the Void and how it's changed things but is this change really something to be so excited about?~ Her hand smooths over the cover of her favorite book, tracing the elegant script on the cover. ~Perhaps I am only excited because it's finally something new, something changing besides the bored faces in my class.~

Chuckling to herself, she looks out the open door and sighs when the driver blocks her view. "Yes?"

"Ma-am, we should be on the road soon. Do you sure have everything?"

Rolling her turquoise eyes, Sava mentally groaned. "Yes, I'm sure I have everything. Thank you."
 
as written by Bravest

To the left of the caravan stood a purple haired man, Sieg. He was there to make sure that if not all, most of it would arrive safely to the destination. He was a hired sword. As the caravan grew and grew, he could not help but think of how many theives or bandits out there would love to take this for their own. By the looks of it, even if they leave at morning, the caravan would still gain attention. But, that was why he was here - to make sure that what he thinks does not happen.

Looking at the caravan, he also saw how many people he would be travelling with. He, being a hired guard, needed to know who he could rely on and who could not be trusted. A nearby man was walking by him as he said, "What a crowd this would be." The man looked at him, saying "I believe they would hold a feast once they arrive at the destination." He looked at thbee man and said, "That would be nice." The man nodded at him, smiled, then went on his way. A feast, huh. ,he thought to himself, That would be very rewarding.

He looked over the horizon before them, and at the growing caravan as he waited for the signal for departure to be sent.
 
as written by Corruption

The small blanket of snow provided stable footing for the sole warrior who stood before the group, his argent gaze shifting between the string of carriages and the road which lay before them. The subtle breeze which washed over the area whipped his shawl from around his person, revealing modest attire meant to keep one warm and a sheathed sword bound tight to his hip in case danger wished to present itself in any of it's varied forms. The remainder of his gear lay in wait within one of the many carriages, anxious to be retrieved and donned in battle.

"Trystam, what do you think you're doing? You can't protect these people." The faint articulation came from behind the warrior, produced by a figure clad in a hood and cloak comprised of writhing darkness. Empty sockets 'observed' the other, it's expression conveying a great disdain and disappointment as the figure slowly began to encircle him.

"Leave me shade, lest my blade find comfort planted deep in your skull." The retort was cold, menacing, and was accompanied only by a disgusted countenance meant to forewarn of brutal consequences should aforementioned demands go without heed.


"Come now, Boy. You and I both know you can do me no harm. We also know that I'm here to stay so you may wish to stifle the theatrics..." The response produced was laced with a mocking sarcasm which meant only to further agitate the lone warrior. Though before the conversation could continue an older male from the caravan made his approach, his attention focused on Trystam whilst he remained completely oblivious of the ghastly apparition.

"Sir, I just wanted to thank you for your service. Do you think we'll encounter much trouble?" The merchant produced the inquiry while intentive eyes quickly found the weapon at Trystam's hip in their sights, it serving as a foreshadowing of possible things to come. The figment of the silver-haired male's imagination found this question amusing and slowly dissipated in a fit of laughter, the holes in it's head 'staring' into his.

"Rest assured knowing that these mercenaries are eager to quell any attempt made against this caravan and fill those who would try with a regret they will carry with them for the rest of their lives." Content with this response the merchant nodded once, turned, and made way toward his wagon, offering Trystam a small wave of his hand as he went.
 
as written by Tiko

It was time. Scouter sat at the forefront of the caravan with his lone wagon before offering Trystam a nod of his head. He then picked up the reigns and gave them a light snap to get the armored bull moving along at a steady plod, and soon the other wagons and carriages had begun to move forward as well with the riders trailing along beside them.

Their journey would be a slow one. Still though, they made steady progress. Save for one wagon that broke an axle that needed to be repaired, the day passed largely uneventfully.

Song became the favored means of passing time, usually initiated by Scouter himself. They hadn't been even an hour into their journey when the grizzled old worgen had begun to hum a rough tune that slowly picked up through the caravan. It helped pass the long hours until they at last broke for camp come evening.

____

Scouter hoisted himself down from his wagon and grunted at the aches he had accrued from the days travel on unpaved roads.

"We're gettin' too old for this," he chuckled lightly as he pat his armored bull on one shoulder.

He started waving the other wagons off the road as well as he directed them over to the large open field they would be making use of for the night.

"Let's get these wagons moving!" he called out. "I want the first twelve ringing here, as close as you can get them, and the rest of you fan out over there."

It would take some wrangling to get the wagons all directed and into place, as well as getting the draft animals free of their rigging for the evening, but everyone seemed to know their jobs. While some saw to the picketing of the animals, others where digging firepits. A few tents where thrown up, but the majority of the travelers simply made use of their wagons as shelter for the coming night.

While some saw to the erection of the campsite, others where seeing to getting pots of stew going over the smoldering campfires. With the winter cold still upon them, the hot meal would be a welcome reprieve from their long day on the road.

As Scouter passed by Sava's carriage he inclined his head.

"My Lady," he greeted. "I trust the days journey finds you well?"

It wasn't often they had individuals of Sava's station looking to journey to the outlying towns and cities, but if often paid well to keep them happy. Happy nobles made for loose purses.
 
as written by Nevan

"'ey! Orkish feller, we need 'elp! You got them Ork muscles yeah?" Asked a peculiarly accented man who stood by a group of men trying to push a carriage's wheel out of a sudden ditch off the side of the road. "Give us an 'and will ya?"

Kalrai had to roll his eyes, but shuffled forward annyway. It wasn't his job to help push carts and wagons, but he supposed a friendly gesture wouldn't hurt his relationship with the caravan as a whole so he rolled up his sleeves and went to join the men struggling with the wheel. With the combined strength of three, the men barely had the strength to lift the carriage and its contents to the mouth of the hole, but with a fourth they would no doubt get it done. Why had they asked him specifically then, when others were around to fill that duty?

"Let's go," Kalrai told them, gripping the underside of the carriage where there was room for his fingers and heaved. As they all suspected, it came loose with with relative ease; as though five men had joined their power in the effort rather than the four that truly did. The Half-Ork's strength did not go unnoticed, but other than a few sideways glances Kalrai heard nothing of it. He got a simple pat on the back and a thank-you before the men pushed the carriage off to make camp.

"Master Ork, we've got meat in the pot if you fancy a full belly," spoke the familiar voice of the Innkeeper, who sat around a campfire and gestured for Kalrai to follow him. Kalrai nodded and moved over to the warmth of the cooking pot, where he sat down and found himself able to relax. He was sure to be on duty again soon, but for now he could take a rest and enjoy the evening.

He couldn't help but notice Scouter approaching a carriage. Having not been introduced to the man officially, he watched and listened with a keen attention.
 
as written by Loreth

Sava spent the trip sewing the embroidery onto a new dress she had been planning. The act of pulling needle and thread through the cloth was meditative to the Mage and with the various people joining in with Scouter's song, she truly enjoyed the trip. Finally stopping for camp though meant she would have a chance to actually -talk- with some of the people she was traveling with.

Waiting until the carriage was parked and her driver taking care of the animals, she slid from the interior to stretch as Scouter greeted her. Smiling brightly, she nodded. "Very well indeed. I did not think you to have such a strong singing voice. Was that you leading the party? It was nice but not one I've heard before."

A quick glance around the camp reminded her of another question she had meant to ask. "And as well, do you know of anything I need to do to help out? I've never traveled outside the city before and certainly not with such a large group!"
 
as written by Ruko

The twilight sun was just falling behind the horizon as the girl crashed through the undergrowth. She was young, too young to be in the situation she was in, and her breaths were shallow and rapid. The grass here was long and wild, blades reaching up to her waist in particularly thick patches, and it disguised all sorts of perils. The ground was uneven, scarred by the winter frost and the girl found herself tripping, over and over as she ran. Her footsteps were dull and loud, and she was slowed down by the armour she wore despite it being designed for agility.

She could see a light ahead, a warm flickering glow that she could see belonged to a large caravan. She knew a caravan like that would have guards in it. Strong ones, too. If she could only make it there...

She tripped once more, this time falling face first instead of stumbling. They were gaining on her and she couldn't run any further, the fatigue in her muscles getting the better of her. She hadn't wanted to do this and it was why she had been running in the first place.

The girl rolled over onto her back, drawing in a huge gulp of air and physically willing the pain to leave her limbs. Her heart raced, adrenaline flowing through her veins, but it was not enough to fully overcome her terror. The monster pounced.

It was a huge behemoth, easily 9 feet in length, and it's fangs visibly glistening in the early moonlight. It's fur was sleek and grey, and it's eyes burned with a fierce crimson. She closed her eyes and flinched, a split second decision, and one that she hated having to make the risk of doing unprepared. A blinding pain shot through her right arm, but nothing more. She hesitantly opened her eyes, and found the colossal wolf collapsed on the ground beside her, a gaping hole where it's front right leg should have been. She carefully stood up, accompanied by the ominous howling of another wolf far in the distance. It was followed by a second, this from a slightly different angle. There were more of them.

She staggered over to the injured beast, this time her mind properly in gear. That survival attack had been much worse than it should have been. She focused her mind, channelling magical energy appropriately to neglect as much of the damage as possible, then released. A cracking noise not unlike a gunshot resounded across the plains, the wolf spasm'd once, then lay still.

It took another 30 minutes for the girl to reach the edge of the caravan. She stumbled across the boundary, her form being illuminated for the first time. Her armour was flawless, obviously well kept, and encrusted with tiny white crystals. It was half-plate, half cloth, and half-absorbed half-reflected the flickering oranges. She clutched her right arm to her chest, around her heart, her left arm using the side of a caravan as support. Blood flowed from beneath areas on her right arm and chest, and just as she was beginning to speak, she blacked out and collapsed.
 
as written by Tiko

Scouter scratched at the back of his neck as he mulled over Sava's inquiry. Attending nobility wasn't a skill he was formally - or informally for that matter - versed in. He held no ill will towards the woman, but neither was he entirely sure what would be appropriate to ask of the woman.

"Its been a long day, Lady Sava, perh-"

A shout of alarm rang out from across the encampment, and several people were gathering at the edge of the caravans to get a look at something, or rather someone, staggering towards the caravan.

Scouter grunted gruffly and left Sava's side to push his way through the onlookers. His hand was on his hunting knife as he reached the forefront in time to see the stranger collapse.

"Well don't just stand there!" he barked at the gawking onlookers. "You there, help me get 'er by one of the fires. And you, bring some fresh water. Mithra?" He hollered the name across the encampment before he caught sight of the young mercenary. "Over here," he called to her. "I need you to take two scouts out in the direction she came from, and be quick about it."
 
as written by Script

The stoic elven mercenary nodded to Scouter's request, "Cadwyn, Ret!" she called, waving two of the other mercenaries over. "With me."

Once the two had joined her, she drew her bow and started off into the night. "Fan out, but stay within earshot," she instructed. "From the sound of the howls earlier, we could be dealing with Blight Wolves, or something similar. If you find something obviously hostile, signal for backup and don't engage unless you're sure have a kill shot. And I mean sure. I've seen a void beast take an arrow straight through the brain and keep coming. Play it safe. We sweep out fifteen hundred feet, then double back and report."

With that, Mithra set off, taking the central line whilst Cadwyn went north, and Ret south. The three would spread out to the east to try and get eyes on whatever had attacked the girl, then report back within the next ten to fifteen minutes.

It was Mithra who came across the dead wolf. It only took a quick glance to determine its wounds didn't come from any sword or bow. Either the girl had magic, or something else out here did. That would also explain the loud crack she'd heard around half an hour ago.

Wolves like this tended to move in packs, she noted. There were likely others nearby. Although the death of one of their fellows was likely to have warned them off, it was by no means a forgone conclusion. She cupped a hand to her mouth and let out a bird call - a practised signal for 'corpse' - to alert the other scouts to her finding.
 
as written by Loreth

Following Scouter, Sav stared for a moment at the girl and then the scouts that ran into the field. Tapping her lip for a moment, she heard the call for water and snapped her fingers. Clapping her hands together, she pulled them apart to reveal a jar of water summoned by her magic. "Here. Clean water is best for wounds. Do you need more light? I can summon Mage lights."

Frowning, she looked out towards the way the girl came from and chewed her bottom lip. ~A ward perhaps? If it's a void beast then I could try and guard us from it... Would give me a chance to test a few theories.~
 
as written by Tiko

"Yes, light," Scouter growled under his breath as the stranger was laid out upon the ground next to one of the campfires. With the sun beginning to set, lighting was swiftly deteriorating.

The offered water was set down on the ground as well while Scouter began to start working over her armor to loosen it and strip it away to get a look at what injury might lay beneath. It was peculiar that there was no apparent outward injury or damage to the armor, and yet she bleed.

He was no doctor, but he had dressed his share of field wounds. He wouldn't know what he was dealing with though until he got the armor out of the way.

Several of the encampment had gathered to watch on.
 
as written by Ruko

The girl awoke to see several people leaning over her. Had she passed out? She shifted a little to get into a slightly more comfortable position, and a searing pain shot through her arm, confirming her suspicions. "I'll be fine. I'll just need a few hours for the wounds to heal." she said, waving away the offer of treatment. Another howl echoed across the landscape, resonating slightly with several metal items in the caravans. "More importantly, there are still several of those things out there. You should take precautions." Her voice was strained, and she flinched whenever she drew in one of her shallow breaths, despite trying to hide it. "I'm not sure how effective physical attacks will be on them" she warned.
 
as written by Loreth

Snapping her fingers over Scouter's head, several small mage lights flared into existence just as the girl woke up. "Ah, so magic is the key then? I can set a few ice wards but I don't know that I can do to much else until they're in sight. Magical traps could be set off by members of our party." Tapping her fingertip to her bottom lip, Sav eyed the perimeter of their camp in thought. "Perhaps just setting smaller ones would be best?"

Turning back to Scouter, she gave a small sheepish smile. "I'll be honest, I'm not sure what would be best. I have the capabilities of many things but not the experience! What would protect our camp the best, do you think?"
 
as written by ZenMon

Vurrh circled the great wolf, great-axe in hand. He'd heard stories of these from the traders of old, they were called Shirruk Gosh in the Old Tongue. The Blight Wolves, he'd also heard them called in various stories of travelers he'd encountered since freeing himself from the fighting pits. A grim smile formed on his face. A fitting challenge for me. The beast's lip curled, and a low growl escaped its throat. Vurr growled in kind, and continued circling.

The beast struck first. With a savage roar that echoed in Vurrh's ears, it moved with astonishing speed for a monster its size. It lunged, seeking to take his head clean off. Vurrh echoed the challenge, feeling his skin begin to warm up as his blood boiled. It was one of the Shadowblood's traits, one of the very first traits they could lay claim to. Vurrh rolled, swinging with the axe as the beast flew past. A large gash opened up on its side, all the way down to the ribs. The beast growled in pain and rage, rounding on Vurr and swiping with its right claws. Vurr ducked, and swung his axe again, severing the paw completely from the wrist. Blood splattered across Vurrh's chest and face.

The old familar smell. How good it feels to smell it again. Vurrh's blood continued to heat up further, causing his eyes to glow red. The world brightened as adrenaline and ancient blood magic coursed through his veins. Vurrh let loose another guttral war-cry that echoed across the night plains. His knuckles popped as he gripped the axe tightly and charged the wolf, bellowing all the way. He swung his axe, burying it in the neck of the wolf and taking it down to the ground. The wolf spasmed, gurgling and trying to rise again. Vurrh tore it free and swung again, neatly decapitating the wolf with the crunch of bone.

Vurrh looked out across the night-shrouded plains, listening to more howls. One is simple enough, but any more would be too much for even him. Retrieving his belongings from where he'd thrown them before the fight, Vurrh returned to the decapitated wolf's corpse. "A fine trophy...", he murmured to himself. Taking the head, Vurr looked around for possibly hiding from the wolves. A cluster of lights caught his attention. He smirked again, and jogged towards the lights.

Minutes later, Vurrh approached the caravan, in particular a group of individuals gathered around a campfire, and one body in particular. Injured from the looks of it.

"...capabilities of many things but not the experience! What would protect our camp the best, do you think?"

"The Wolves are numerous, but can be killed." Vurrh dropped the decapitated wolf head at his feet. "So fight numbers with more numbers. And cunning. I will help."
 
as written by Loreth

"The Wolves are numerous, but can be killed. So fight numbers with more numbers. And cunning. I will help."

Savania looked up from the spell book in her hands and gave a wide smile. "Excellent. A specimen." Turning to the new person, she approached and pointed at the wolf's head. "Can I have some of the blood? I can use that to ward the camp area to keep the non-combatants safe until we've finished with the threat. There won't be enough blood for a large area but a decent size around the central camp fire should do. Then those who can fight can take care of the beasts without needing to worry about protecting them." Balancing a book in one hand and her hand palm up in offering her idea, she wore a near-smirk. "And then I can practice some of my more destructive spells against them! I look forward to the challenge."
 
Taylor's sleep proved restles as the memories of the swamp found their way into her dreams. All through the night, memories of the swamp's denizen dogged her heels, always just behind her never giving her a moments reprieve. Their hunting voices chilled her to the bone even in her slunber, demanding that she join with them. That she give it to them. What that it was remained uncertain, but equally they remained unrelenting in their pursuit of it.

When at last her dreams faded into wakefullness, she would immediately notice something amiss. No longer was she resting in the tree, but instead she slumbered upon the river bank with Toka sound asleep at her side - mercifully silent for the time being. Around her the dense woodlands seemed to have vanished and open grass spread out before her, with the woodlands laying across the river. Wherever she was, it was not the place she had fallen asleep at.

Nearby another of those peculiar fox creatures was lapping at the water of the river.
 
It was instinct and experience that told Taylor to keep still as she awoke, even though panic burned like bile at the back of her throat, and her skin was damp with a cold sweat. She breathed in slowly, deeply, looking around her as she broke away from the sleep paralysis that weighted her limbs. The imp at her side did not stir as she gently put her hands into the soft grass, sitting up in time to see the fox creature standing and drinking at the riverbank.

She believed she had him to thank, for certain, yet she couldn’t figure out for the life of her how she had gotten on the ground, when she was sure she’d climbed into a tree for safety. A shiver of unease ran down her spine. Her understanding of this place only went as far as the land she’d already traveled, and now that she’d been completely displaced without warning…

It wasn’t that she was unthankful for being out of that dreaded swamp, but now she was back to square one, having no understanding of where she was or how to get out of here. She could ask the imp…but that was often a fruitless effort. Moving to her knees, she carefully worked her way closer to the water’s edge, one eye always on the fox creature.

Taylor had always had a talent with animals both familiar and mystical, but that didn’t mean that there was communication…more like a mutual understanding. She wished she could just ask the fox outright. With all the strange creatures she’d encountered, certainly there was one sentient enough who could help her?

After all, she’d found the imp, as unhelpful as the little chatterbox was.

“I need to find other people,” she said in a low voice. “A village, anything. Even just heading in the right direction would be a huge help…”

She felt foolish, but she was quite literally out of options at this point.
 
♪ I found myself a little brown rabbit ♪

From the trees, there was a sweet, delicate melody. It was so haunting that it seemed like one of the phantoms voices she heard in the forest.

♪ And I heard her plea, pitiful rabbit is she ♪

Just as Taylor's eyes skimmed the canopy, a pale leg draped itself over a high branch among the many trees that surrounded her, followed by a pair of too-blue eyes, then arms that pushed above the branch, a woman of uncanny flawlessness. A cloak draped gently off her tiny shoulders, and a mass of black hair framed her slight features.

♪ Fear not little rabbit, for you can trust me ♪

Staring intently at Taylor, the small woman grinned and swayed back and forth gently on the branch.
 
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