Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Korvesa

"Oh, I shouldn't worry about that," the man answered with another sly grin. "I hear they've got plenty of ears around these parts. Like as not they already know you've arrived. But a professor, are you? What is it you teach, aside from an appreciation for beauty?"

He turned briefly to the barkeep, flashing him a grin. "Put the fair lady's drinks and meal on my tab, Herald, and those of her beleaguered driver." With that, his gaze slid across to the driver and he offered another smile. "I owe you just as well for ferrying the professor here safely, and in good company no doubt."
 
Tiko said:
"Aleosis?" the Scholar asked Jackson. "Aleosis was a powerful general in the army of the Sealed One. It is said he was defeated right here upon the ruins of Korvesa over two-thousand years ago," he explained. "My name is Nathaire, and I study up on ancient lore and stories from before the time of the Fall. It was a fascinating world before..." he waved away the matter with his hand. "Anyways. I was here investigating rumors of Aleosis. It's my job you see. helping to identify lingering traces of the Void's corruption, so it can be stamped out. You can never been too sure when an old rumor might be a void beast at work. Usually it's turns out to just be silly stories to scare children at night. Just as soon as I verify that the rumors here about Aleosis' ghost are just old wive's tales and superstition, then I can be off from this backwater town and back to civilization."

"There aint no ghosts, 'ere," one of the townsmen nearby muttered as he took a chug of his ale. "You're just waistin' your time."

"Oh let him be," Tilda called over. "It's harmless and will give some of the folks some peace of mind."
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"It's nice to meet another Intelectual in this place... I spent a month on a caravan with nit-wits not worth my time." He said, sitting down in an open chair next to Nathaire. "I am Jackson, a fellow follower of the Void. I came here based on the myth of his slaying to be dealt by the Four up in those ruins.."

As he was talking he was rubbing his necklace that was around his neck, but the Jackson got an Idea. "Why don't we form a party of fellows and go to the ruins? I could catalog the delve and you could do your investigating or whatever it is you said you do. That dwarf over there," He said, pointing to Trenn, "Could prove useful. What do you say?" He extended his right hand, his left placed around his necklace.
 
Trenn looked back at the elf to see that he was being pointed at. He looked away to pretend he didn't see and ordered another ale. Trenn didn't like what the elf was up to but he wanted to know. So he waited for them to come to him. Then he realized do they want me to help him? He decided if it did come to that he would help them. Suddenly he remembered what he told the elf earlier after he was pushed aside about the legend. He hoped the elf wouldn't be mad because he seemed really fond of those artifacts. When he got his ale he chugged it and asked for another.
 
"That's a splendid idea," Nathaire replied to Jackson. "The sun will be down soon though. Why don't we meet up here tomorrow morning for some breakfast, and then we can head on out while we'll have the sunlight to see by? I would be fascinated to trade information regarding your own studies. For now though I'm going to call it a night. It was a pleasure to meet you!"

"Come on Remy," he said to his assistant. "Let's be off for the night."
 
"Orlesia? Well I'll be," Herald replied to Eren with genuine surprise. "I was trying to place your accent, but it never crossed my mind that you made your way up here from that far south."

Tilda meanwhile pursed her lips at his tale and cast a somewhat reproachful look upon him.

"You'll find that there's plenty enough work out here for honest folk," she told him. "Perhaps not work of the sort that you're accustomed to, but for those willing to put in a hard days labor all you need to do is look to your neighbor. There's always someone needing something done around here, and they can always use some extra bodies for the town guard."
 
Pausing to glance up at the statues, the woman in furs frowned, reaching through the pockets of her coat. She pulled out a jagged piece of glass burned black, directing the sunlight over the statues of the gargoyles.

Nothing changed.

Frowning, she pulled the hood up further over her face, halting in her forward movements to gather auburn hair against the back of her neck in the thick hood. Too much of it, she thought, sighing lightly.

Her grip on the package grew tighter as she turned to walk deeper into the town.
 
Herald raised an eyebrow at the man, and glanced between him and Sava for a moment, before rolling his eyes and nodding. It seemed that his behaviour was far from unfamiliar to the old barkeep. Turning to catch Tilda's attention, he called for her to bring another bowl of stew over, then looked back to Sava. "And what'll you have to drink, miss? I'd say nought too strong with his like around," he thumbed in the young man's direction.

The man simply responded with a grin, followed by a faux look of shock. "You wound me, Herald, by suggesting that I'd take advantage of a lady in such a way."
 
Climbing into the bar stool, Sava only grinned at the bartender. "Oh I'll have just some stew and tea if you have any. If not then a glass of wine?" A playful wink at her new 'friend' and she propped her chin in her hand, elbow on the bar top. "And for your question, I'm a professor of magic come to tutor their son. I'm one of many battle magic teachers and the only one really willing to come out. Apparently too many of the others are worried about all the void and monsters and dirt."

Beside her, trying his very hardest not to laugh, the driver rolled his eyes for the millionth time. "Gods be praised, elves are all off in the head."
 
Tiko said:
"That's a splendid idea," Nathaire replied to Jackson. "The sun will be down soon though. Why don't we meet up here tomorrow morning for some breakfast, and then we can head on out while we'll have the sunlight to see by? I would be fascinated to trade information regarding your own studies. For now though I'm going to call it a night. It was a pleasure to meet you!"

"Come on Remy," he said to his assistant. "Let's be off for the night."
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Jackson nodded and stood up, dusting off his pants for a quick moment and then moving to his bag and taking a notebook out he wrote a quick note;


Wanted; 2-3 Bodyguards for an expedition

Reward; 100G and anything we find during the expedition

Speak to the barkeep, and he will direct you to me in the morning.

-Jackson



He looked at the Dwarf and nodded as he put his note up on a job board next to the counter. He went to the barkeep, explained his situation, and ordered a beer and a room. He grabbed his key and walked up to his room, taking his bag. Walking up the stairs, he paused, looked around, then rubbed his necklace and continued.
 
Trenn watched the elf as he put up the job. The elf wanted him to take it. He couldn't help himself. After the elf got a drink and left the room the dwarf went to the board and read the request. He read the bottom where it said Jackson.

"So that's the elf's name," he thought.

"Well I better do it now when I have the chance..." he whispered to himself. He walked up to the barkeep and asked about the job. Trenn was told that he would be directed to Jackson in the morning. Even though he knew that.

He set off for his room to put his stuff away.
 
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"Their son's a lucky man, I'd say, to be gifted so much time with you," the man said with another grin, idly flipping a coin from his thumb, catching it, then repeating. "As for monsters and the void, there's plenty of each out here, I suppose. But not so many for it to get dull. It keeps you sharp. And the dirt? A little dirt serves to build character, I've found. I'll admit to it being difficult to get used to, coming here from the city myself. But I've grown attached. It's a welcome enough break from the capital's intricate heights of the game, to say the least."

He flipped the coin again, this time catching it and stowing it away in one of his pockets. "It's a journey few city-dwellers would choose to take, tutor or nay. I suppose that means that you and I are made of sterner stuff eh, Lady Dawnhand?"
 
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Crohd stared at the wagon's floor, with an expression that might kill. Crohd was silent in the wagon, a skillful sort of silent that must be trained. He leaned back against the hay bales in the cart, carrying food for the horses. As the wagons slowed, children passed by. They must be approaching town. He heard the people milling about ahead of them.

A child passed by and peered into the cart to Crohd, surprised that someone was in it. The child saw a short, scrawny, and ugly Orc glare angrily at him. Crohd hated kids; They were loud, impetuous, and hyper. Crohd was not displeased that most children are frightened of him.

Crohd stepped off when the wagons stopped. With a short sword at his side, and a bow over his shoulder, he approached the tavern. He hated taverns, and wished he did not need to visit one. But he was very hungry, and had a small amount of coin, and no patience for hunting for a meal at this point. The convenience simply outweighed the discomfort of being in such a public place.

Entering, he approach the bar, and stared at the keep awkwardly, not at first noticed, and not noticing the others already long in the establishment. Now he would have to speak to people. Crap.
 
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Crohd's arrival drew more than a few looks, and murmurs spread through the room. He was a long ways from the Devil's Peak Mountains, and the lands were his kind were seen as more than roving marauders and bandits. This far into northern Aelora, few orcs could be found and those that existed primarily lived off the misfortune of others. Pillaging and robbing their way through life was a thing of the norm for renegade orcs this far from the militant control of the orcish nation of Urugar.

And where there was one orc... surely more followed.

One townsman, emboldened by a few too many drinks even rose up from his seat, his hands atop the table to steady himself.

"Oy, there," he growled. "Orcs aren't welcome in the company of civilized folks."

Murmurs of agreement surrounded Crohd who was likely unfamiliar with the reputation of the northern orc tribes that he was being painted with. The tension in the air was thick, and even the barkeep and Tilda didn't seem intent to intervene on behalf of the orc. Before things could devolve though, a powerful and sickening sensation struck everyone in the room. Those standing upright would be sent lurching against tables, counters, chairs, and walls for support as their surroundings seemed to twist and pull in all directions. Those sitting down would be better apt to maintaining their equilibrium, but likely find the sensation nauseating and disorienting.

The sensation lasted only a few moments before the front window shattered and one of the two stone gargoyles from out front slammed into the floor. Standing up it walked menacingly towards Jackson, and each step was punctuated by the crunch of glass beneath its stony feet. Nearby the fireplace flickered and twisted as if a gust of wind had just blown through it and the shadows along the floor seemed to ripple and distort for a moment.

---​

Those who already moved upstairs to retire for the evening were subject to the lurching distortion as well, but they would remained unaware of what was responsible for the sound of shattering of glass downstairs. Should they attempt to make their way downstairs to determine the source of the noise, they would make it only as far as the top of the step before finding their passage barred. The steps seemed to twist and turn before their eyes while the wooden planks stretched and warped in upon themselves, rippling hazily before regaining stability for brief moments. The experience was dizzying and disorienting as the mind tried to make sense of what the eyes were witnessing.

---​

Outside, the auburn haired woman hadn't made it more than half a dozen steps before she too had been struck with the disorienting and gut-wrenching sensation. The sound of glass shattering behind her would be all the warning she would get as the second of the two gargoyles descended upon her from behind.
 
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Crohd fell, landing on his rear. Before the had time to act on his nervous instinct for the gathering mob, He grew nauseous. By the time it passed, Crohd was distracted by something which at first he did not believe. The statue from outside seems to have come alive. Crohd scrambled for his bow as the... thing made it's way to Jackson. Crohd's mind rushed. Was it supposed to be doing this? The people around him were not acting like so. In fact, the stone creature was acting very much aggressive, though it could very well be the moment, and Crohd still hadn't regained his senses fully. Crohd made his decision; This statue had become some sort of predator, that man (Jackson) was it's prey. Crohd notched an Arrow while on one knee, aimed at the head, and breathed. In a second he regained his keen sight, and he released.
 
The arrow struck true and embedded itself into the stone statue's eye socket, and though the stone construct seemed physically unharmed by he arrow now protruding from its head, Crohd's actions had drawn its attention away from Jackson and to himself as it changed direction and stalked towards the orc upon all fours.
 
It turned to him, unfazed. Crap. Crohd now realized that, despite what it's movements suggested, it was in fact still made of stone. Crohd reached for his short sword, this beast would now be HIS prey! - No! Crohd stopped himself: He had hunted many a magical beast in his tenure, and he would not let first impulse kill him now. leaping to his feet and to the bar, he screamed "SOMETHING HEAVY! SOMETHING HEAVY NOW!!" reaching over the bar to grab something he could use to smash at the gargoyle with, in desperation.
 
Eren looked back at the statue. Something he hadn't seen in a while. A living statue, and it seemed angry. He shrugged, taking out his medium-sized warhammer and setting it on the bar. "If you can lift it, you can use it." He slightly struggled in taking it out in the first place. The hammer must have at least weighed 250 pounds, maybe even 300. He relaxed, a bit eager to see how this would work out for each side.
 
After putting his gold down Trenn pulled up his pant leg and was about to put his pick away. He stopped when he heard the sound of shattering glass and yelling. He put down his pant sleeve and ran to the stairs, but then he stopped. He looked at the stairs how the were undescribable.

"That isn't good," he said to himself. He had to find another way down. He went to his room looking for ways to get to the bottom floor. He couldn't go out the window so he decided to try something stupid.

He took out his pick and started banging it against the floor board attempting to break the floorboards and get downstairs.
 
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Mid-flirt and all of the room suddenly turned, her hands gripping the bar top in an attempt to remain balanced. The loud commotion drew her attention and gave her something to focus on. The fact that it was a gargoyle in a room full of barely or unarmored people did not help her stomach at all. Another glance around and she made a few quick assumptions: The orc should have more of the constitution and natural armor for fighting and most of the humans appeared unarmed that she could see. Sliding from her stool, she began drawing runes and gathering the spell needed to throw an arcane shield around the orc.
 
And just when things were going so well.

The young man who had been speaking to Sava dropped the coin he was flipping when the wave of nausea and wrongness washed over him, and his casual lean on the bartop turned into clutching it for dear life. He'd scarcely regained his balance when the window shattered, and their new company joined them.

"There is a door!" he groaned, dragging his palm over his face as he straightened himself out. He assessed the gargoyle with a nervous stare, his hands going to the only weapons he had on him - a small dagger at his belt, and a few throwing knives. As good as toothpicks against a living statue, he'd warrant. For the first time in his life, he found himself happy to see an orc, when Crohd launched himself into the fray. Still, it wouldn't do for Lady Dawnhand to see him standing completely idle. His eyes flicked to see her preparing some sort of spellcraft, and he stepped forward to put himself ready to defend her should she need it, dagger in one hand and throwing knife in the other.
 
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