The World of Equinox

Wait, Eidirscoil? Andrich immediately stopped a surreptitious inspection of the others gathered and looked hard at their austere host, caught somewhere between stark disbelief and a giddy sort of anxiety. The collapse of the Druid council was almost literally a different age. This man couldn't be -that- old... could he? He assumed he wanted answers as badly as the rest, but the gathering seemed about to grind to an impasse before it even really got started. Perhaps some validation, and a solution to their most-immediate obstacle, were a couple of points that he could at least offer a contribution.

Taking a deep breath, Andrich strode a few paces towards the hermit and spoke softly but firmly into the break in conversation. "Ruarc Eidirscoil, Druid and supposed monster killer, should be almost myth. Historians in the West mention him being on the edges of important events, both tragic and triumphant, centuries ago and lifetimes apart from one another." he recalled aloud. "Even if this man were lying, he'd be dangerously well-informed to try using that name, and clearly has some arcane influence to gather us all here like this." he reasoned to the rest of the gathering at large, and looking to the protesting warriors by turns.

Hoping to avoid confrontation in a confined space, possibly against living legends, he offered hesitantly, "My name is Andrich, and I... have worked as a trail guide. I'm not fresh, but I'm always up for a good hike; I can travel quickly on foot, and have a pony for someone who cannot. I can fetch our errant guest back here if it please you all, alone or in company if that's better than waiting. Unless you think it take a brigade" he gestured casually to the entire assembled party "to seize this person, or I need to tie them to the pony to get them here." In an effort of disarming humor, Andrich trailed off, "I do have rope..." He glanced to the rest of the gathering for signs of recognition, as well as approval or rebuttal, but ended looking searchingly at Eidirscoil. If it truly was him, the Druid's consideration was likely to influence the outcome the most, for better or worse.
 
Pierrot slumped in his chair, sighing. "Oh, joy. A 'noble quest.' It's just like the old days serving my Lord." He looked everybody over, carefully sizing them up. "This is ridiculous, but..." He cleared his throat. "You prove to me what you say, and I'll go with it."
 
Still more people were arriving and Marcus would appraise them all. The fact that they were all called--and showed up--for some mysterious purpose and then were being asked to go and retrieve someone to stubborn to make the apparently short journey... It did not sit well with Marcus.

The idea of resting for the night was ideal. "Is it absolutely imperative that this person be received? Obviously she does not want to be here, arriving and kidnapping her is not going to change her mind, I doubt." Did they really need a woman along for the ride anyway? They already had one why had more trouble?
 
His long dark hair stuck to his face, strands of it were muddied and tangled, but the journey was over.

Zachriel's legs ached like they hadn't in years, but the ruins before him felt almost like this whole trip was worth it already.
It appeared that there was a great hall where he stood... maybe years in the past, maybe centuries even. Columns stood, but the breath of time seemed to have worn out the place it once was. The broken roof tiles cracked as he walked across the dirty and shambled marbled floors.

He caught glimpse of the dim lighting from within the ruins, a large spiral staircase leading him down and deeper into the entrails of the mountain.

The water from the rain dripped from his face, the smell of a freshly cooked meal filled his lungs. He walked cautiously, listening to what little noise there was as one man spoke, the people around the room, listening intently, some more eager than others as his eyes drew to the man by the table where the food lied. His eyebrow raised curiously as he pictured one of his men doing the exact same thing in this sort of situation, regardless of how ominous it was.

I was summoned? Strange... He thought to himself as he looked around, the faces around him unfamiliar as far as he could tell, and even the man that summoned them, looked like no one Zachriel would've ever seen before.
 
The Mountain's joyful demeanor began to sink as he heard the naysaying, joykilling remarks of his would-be party mates. He put down the hunk of sheep in his hands and chewed thoughtfully as he conjured a response. When he was satisfied with what he will say, he swallowed, and then sighed.

"If any of you were proper adventurers, then you'd know of the Druid's Call. That fact that you are skeptical and dismissive of this great honor fills the bottom of my heart with great sorrow, my friends." Grendel grabbed the handle of his hammer, and used it to pull himself up. He then performed a mighty stretch before continuing.

"This Druid's Call that you are dismissive of? It's my childhood dream. And it has been the guiding light of my life. It will be the greatest adventure I've been on, and it will be the end of my stay on this earth." Grendel then effortlessly lifted his mighty hammer, and placed it along his shoulders. Then, after resting his arms around it, he casually sauntered his way to the middle of the party, towards the entrance they entered.

"You see, my life has been preparation for this moment. Every weakling I've pummeled showed me the power in my blood, and every monster I've slain confirmed my supernatural strength. Every Adventure I've been on has cleared my eyes of the mist of mediocrity, and all the blood spilt and bones broken by my hammer sing to me the glory of my goal!"

Grendel then turned around, and looked at his peers. "Every party member I've befriended has shown me the hidden potential of glory in all of humanity." He then looked down to the floor. "And their deaths has shown me that potential always comes with a cost." The Conqueror then looked up, with a great strength in his eyes.

"This Adventure shall be my payment unto those fellows who have adventured along side me. This Druid's Call shall be my entry to the Great Feast, were all the great go to rest!" Grendel then signed one last time. "Friends, this shall be a grand adventure. If you'd join in my final spark of glory, this adventure shall be even grander."
 
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As the larger man had begun his rant, a much smaller, petite frame entered in from behind in a soggy cloak. They leaned against the cold stone with their arms folded across their chest, one slender finger tapping irritably on their arm.

Ruarc listened in to all their plights, and he knew if he were in their shoes, that he most likely would question the motives of the complete stranger whisking them away on some grand adventure. But he was not them, and he knew far too much to ever be normal again.

‘Are you sure they are worth the effort in saving?’ Ruarc ignored the amused voice.

His dull blue eyes began to shift color, a golden red hue burning behind them that looked as though they were staring into the eyes of a great serpent. He pulled back his sleeves of his shirt to reveal scar-like runes cut into his flesh, glowing a slight red as well.

“I do not know why fate has chosen you to be intertwined with the others in this quest. I only can tell you what I see, Raynar.” The seemingly blind man answered. “And in order to succeed, we will need this last person to accompany us.”

“It may be hard to believe, and understandably so, that I am who I say I am, Andrich. Considering your companions, you may be taken up on your offer, with Grendel accompanying you.”

He looked to the tall woman, undisturbed by her overbearing presence. “I understand your concern, Morshore. However, I do hope you would reconsider retrieving Lady Zelda. She is a healer, and one of the better ones that remain in this world. And that, Marcus, is why it is imperative she join us.” He nodded to the man, but never let his slitted eyes stray from the tall woman. He slowly stood, matching her height. He seemed to be growing irritable. “I find it a bit appalling that you would put your bills in more importance of you going to save this world. However, if it is coin you’re after…”

“That’s quite enough, Ruarc.” A strongly accented voice came in from behind Grendal. The petite figure moved forward, brushing back the wet hood to reveal flaming red hair. The woman was quite beautiful, and held herself with the presence only a noble or a royal would present herself. Her skin was fair, and eyes shone with hues of the perfect emerald sheen. The tips of her ears poked slightly from her hair, drooped just below her neck in a common trait of those who came from the west.

“She’s a mercenary. She won’t respond to threats or insults of pride when there is none other than success to complete a job.” Ruarc’s lips grew thin. The petite frame pushed him out of the way and faced the towering giant, glaring back up at Morshore with fierce determination. “I’m going on a journey. I need protection, and I want to hire you. Name your price.”
 
“Four gold. A day.” Morshore responds immediately, her attention now fully focused upon the noble as her gaze flits away from Ruarc. This was her language, and she would not budge. “If I survive this, I wish to never have to pick up a weapon again. If I don’t, it’s not as if you need to pay a corpse. As for this Zelda... if she truely is a healer, perhaps I was too quick to decide. For such a quest, and with such...” She eyes Grendel warily for a second. “Company, a skilled healer would be a valuable commodity.”

The scarred woman looked into the eyes of the noble for only a second longer. While not amazed, she did find it mildly surprising that a noble of such petite stature could bear to look her dead in the eyes. Even grizzled commanders had a tough time with that.

Turning her head, Morshore strides over towards where the food was kept. Ignoring the pig, she grabs a cluster of grapes and pops one into her mouth, enjoying the taste.

“Do we have a deal?”
 
While everyone was arriving, Raynar would thinking long and heard about the quest at hand. "Well... It certainly is a one way trip... But the tale I could possibly tell from this grand adventure that's supposedly being set on us. We'd either go down as legends, or live as legends. While that may not suit my persona as a independent Mercenary, it certainly seems like it fits me. Somehow." He muttered out loud, contemplating it very deeply.

"Alright then." He exclaimed, now approaching the old man. "I'll do it. It'd certainly be a challenge for my abilities. I've yet to partake in a large quest than what I've been doing. And if what you say is true, our lives would be ended in an instant if this isn't stopped."

He then turned to everyone else and grabbed a mug. "What say you all, to partake? A toast to saving the world, or die trying."
 
Andrich's usual awareness of the world around him seemed to... bend. The tracker suddenly wasn't sure just how many people were in the room as the Druid's eyes began to blaze in the firelight. He blinked instinctively, as if it were his vision out of focus, and wondered if he should sit down or at least step back from the magus on the verge of losing his temper. But the runes caught his attention, and his fingertips felt instinctively for the scabbards of his twin blades. 'Those look just like...' he started to wonder as the unease of the room around him took a backseat to a breathless spike of curiosity.

Then the Druid's litany was interrupted by a woman he hadn't noticed enter, and Andrich whirled in time to spot the lithe and regal figure sweep off their hood. "Storms take me..." he choked off a startled curse as more than a decade of protocol took over, standing at attention with arms at his sides, and gave the flame-haired royal a half-bow from the waist. The rote greeting did little to quell his rising confusion, however. 'What in heaven's name is she doing here?! If this gets any more weird...' he groused inwardly.

"I, ehr, already volunteered my cooperation, technically," Andrich responded anxiously to the youth's exuberant proclamation, glancing sideways and thinking whatever was in the cup wasn't going to be strong enough to get him through the evening, let alone the quest. "And I am of course at the service of the High House." he finished, sure that he'd covered the necessary minimum of respect to the royal family, but unsure he could hide a growing trepidation at the thought of being under direct command after years in the wind. Andrich thought he'd prepared for everything, but now saving the world seemed an army too short, and one noble too many to end well. 'Let it be a world-eating monster or something we have to stop,' he thought. 'Killing that would be easier for me to figure out.'

"I stand ready when everyone else is." he finished to the assembly.
 
After all the others had finished their remarks, Gabin stood up. "You call me an adventurer?" He grunted at Grendel. "That's a bit of a stretch." He got up, plucked a morsel from the table, and shoved it into his mouth. "I'm not interested in saving anybody. I fight for myself." He said after a swallow. Pierrot jabbed a finger at Raurc. "You seem like the mystical type. I want a favor. You redeem my honor, and I'll go. If that's too much, I leave." He stood, expectant. "Can you do that?"
 
Marcus would continue to refrain from the food that had been provided, despite the fact that no one had been poisoned yet. He considered the strange man's words and nodded, slow, thinking to himself. It's not that he's against saving the world, he just wasn't sure why they would all have to go out of their way for one too stubborn to answer the call. The man's long speech went mostly unnoticed by the warrior who was far too concerned with other thoughts than the other's concerns for not going.

Saving the world was his duty, he would not back down from it. But... a healer, particularly a skilled one, could mean the difference between life and death, success and failure. But it had been a fair question to ask and he had no regrets about questioning the need for this woman. He wished they'd been able to call for a less stubborn one, but...

Marcus, so wrapped up in his mind as he was, nearly missed the exchange between the tall imposing woman and the woman of opposite height (though her presence seemed to match the other woman's physical stature). This was wrapping up to be an odd bunch of people set to travel together.

"Perhaps it would be best, then, to fetch the healer in the morning so we can begin our journey from there, rested and our traveling party complete." He wasn't sure who was making the final call, maybe the druid or maybe the noble, but there was his opinion on the matter.
 
Zachriel listened intently as the man raved on about death and honor and all the stuff that really didn't interested the hunter in the very slightest.

His left shoulder was pressed against the pillar closest to him, watching as the group negotiated and pledged to the cause.
Uh, I best say something, he thought, at least before they take my silence as a signed contract.

Straightening up, and taking a small step forward, clearing his throat to gain their attention.

"I'm not an adventurer, nor a magic user, let alone someone that cares for healers and all that nonsense," he said, his voice stern and rough as it always was, it was the voice of a man raised by the wilderness that surrounded his homeland, "I fail to see why out of all people, you chose for the call to come through to me."

His eyes ran across the room once more, the group of people around him somehow managed to look more qualified for whatever suicide mission this was, and whatever that meant, Zachriel knew that there was a reason for him to be here. Stubborn as ever, he was to argue the point before biting the arrow and following.
 
"Deal." The petite firestart did not hesitate with her answer for Morshore. "Upon successful completion, I'll also include a bonus of my discretion, on how well you perform. First order of business. You take orders from me, and Master Ruarc. We will discuss the matter of your payment in private.” She looked away and up at the brooding druid, who’s eyes had not faded from their fiery cast. “I was able to bring what wulgers and horses I could. The Northern territories are reluctant to give up their mounts, with the Southern armies riding so close to their eastern borders.” She stated. Ruarc gave a nod and a sigh.

She then turned her attention to Andrich, gazing up and down at him with a raised brow. “Yes, I imagine all of us are in the service of whatever High House, or High Court each of us fall under from our respective kingdoms.” She pursed her lips, those emerald hues turning sharp enough that they threatened to kill if he continued talking.

Once the small woman had finished, Ruarc turned to the others again.

“I cannot help you redeem your honor, Gabin. I cannot interfere with mundane affairs of men.” Ruarc turned his burning gaze to the disgraced man. “However, this quest will give you the opportunity to find a new honor for yourself, as well as new opportunities. Perhaps that is enough to warrant a journey for you.”

The tall man shook his head. The runes faded back and the flames faded from his eyes back to the blind blue they had been previously. He looked utterly exhausted. “As I said previously, I do not know why fate has decided upon each individual that we have here. But you all have your unique skills and talents none the less.” He gave the old hunter a look over. “You have experience and wisdom, I’d imagine. And a fine hunter and tracker. Those skills, mixed with Andrich’s own experience of the lands, you two may have been chosen to show us the way.” He grabbed his discarded mug and refilled it.

“Just a guess anyway. We won’t know until we actually start this journey. And I am of accord with Marcus. With the consensus being we remain here for the evening, I recommend eating what you can tonight and get some rest. We’ll move out before first light.” He said resolutely.

“The storm is growing more so. Andrich, there is a small path that leads to a cave on the side of the mountain that you can lead your pony into. It will be drier and warmer there than where it is now. Ellena will show you the way.” He gestured to the smaller woman. “It’s where she’s stored the other horses and wulger for the night.”

“For the rest of you, I encourage you to use this night to think. Your decisions and your actions will decide if this world stands a fighting chance. You.. No.. All of us are in mortal peril. Your lives, your families, your friends.. If you do not go, if you do not act, you will have doomed us all.”

And with that, the Druid turned and headed for a bed in the darker corner of the large room with his mug full of ale.
 
Morshore nods, small smile lighting up her face for but a second before she returns to her trademarked disapproving grimace. Tilting he head, she bows both to her employer and Ruarc in turn, before turning and heading off to get some food to return the energy she lost climbing up.

For the rest of the night, Morshore acclimated to her new role. While she was never far from her employer, she made a point of talking to those she would be travelling with, learning their names and what they were good at. She made sure to filter anything she heard from Grendel. Although she had to admit, if even half of what he said was true he could be an asset.

Raynar seemed approaching competent, she wouldn’t trust Gabin to help a puppy out of the goodness of his heart, let alone watch their backs and frankly she had no idea what Marcus was doing here.

Andrich was... intense but he was also the only member of the party Morshore had the slightest inkling of respect for. She could appreciate the practical armour, and while he didn’t look like he could stand in a stiff breeze she had met enough agile fingers to recognise one.

Eventually the fire began to wane and Morshore judges herself to be sufficiently full. Letting out a high pitched yawn, she stomps her way towards the cot closest to Ellena’s.

It was a slow process, removing her copious amounts of armour, but she eventually managed to strip the metal completely. She stood dressed in a plain white tunic, firelight illuminating a body built like a brick house and rippling with muscle to an almost comical degree. Scars in their multitudes could be seen cross crossing her expansive arms and disappearing beneath her loose clothing.

Yet despite this, there were still echoes of a person before this creature replaced it. Out of her armour, Morshore stood with an almost precarious balance, her stance one of refinement. Hints of her past lay in her body seemingly defying its owner as it retained expansive curves around her bosom and rear, the shapes looking almost out of place, surrounded by walls of muscle as they were. Her hips were wide and supported her torso handily, bearing the great weight with ease.

“I’m heading to bed.” She states, turning towards Ellena before addressing the rest of the people there. “I recommend you lot do as well. We will need to be in peak condition for the upcoming journey.” She says as she spins a long, viciously curved knife in one hand. Laying down on the bed, the knife goes beneath her pillow before she closes her eyes and all most instantly falls asleep.
 
"Well. Since you're offering for us to stay the night, we might as well get comfortable." Raynar exclaimed, finishing the drink he had grabbed to the toast earlier. Finding a bed that suited him, he got in and got comfortable. "So. I assume after we've all had our little R&R, our first order of business would be to grab the unwilling last woman? If she's that stubborn, she must have quite the secret that will be crucial to our task."

"Night everybody. Hope you all are ready for action, I know I am. Don't mind if I slip in and out of sleep, just call it instinct." He exclaimed as he kept his Rapier handy, ready for anything that may jump him. As he's slept and stayed in so many places and met all sorts of people, he's grown accustomed to expect the unexpected.
 
As Written by A_Nobleheart & Knosis

'Wonderful.' Andrich complained to himself silently. He would have relaxed more, as it seemed like the immediate situation had resolved, and the collective group seemed to have accepted Ruarc's (or at least Ellena's) arbitrary instruction. However, the next issue to tackle had immediately presented itself under a mane of long, scarlet locks. That she was unabashedly pretty, or that she only came up to his nose even in her boots, was completely irrelevant to the ranger. Andrich had to work at stoicism instead of regarding the sylph as he might a very large and unhappy bear; gaze fixed on the threat, and backing away slowly and smoothly. He gestured with casual politeness for her to show the way and said "As you will, Miss." giving the honorific only the tiniest emphasis to show that her threat if he gave away her status any more had been telegraphed loud and clear.

The short woman merely nodded and headed for the worn stairwell, careful as she climbed to the top as it was slick by the rain. The storm had taken a turn for the worse, and without cover of trees or wall, the wind was almost a bit unsteadying. Having pulled up her soaking hood prior to reaching the top, she turned to the right away from the pony and waited for Andrich to grab his horse and follow.

Once joined up, she showed him slowly down the nearly hidden path down the side of the mountain, overly cautious as they crossed over a particularly pebbly patch, and into a small cave that led into the side of the mountain.

Ellena entered first. When Andrich entered, he would be met by a very large, very white wolf-like creature. It stared down at him with a piercing look.

“Its okay, Lala.” Ellena patted the wulger’s damp fur.

Andrich followed into the cave, one hand high on the pony's lead and the other patting it's nose softly as he murmured wordless sounds of soothing and encouragement, quickly heading off a panic as the beast realized it was sharing living space with an apex predator half again it's size. For his part, Andrich first locked eyes with the wulger and then slowly lowered his gaze in a sort of primal greeting ritual that had gotten him by with a surprising number of animals over the years. 'Now if only it worked on people.' he thought as he set about stabling the pony and squaring away it's burden neatly to the side. "I intend no offense, Miss." he began, watching Ellena sideways and half-prepared to weather both physical and verbal assault.

“I know you don’t.” She stated, gently caressing the wulger’s silver patch on its side. Further inside, 3 more pair of eyes gleamed in the darkness to let Andrich know there were others like Lala within the cave. Four horses munched on some feed that had been placed in their stalls. “And that’s part of the problem. You evidently know who I am. And I’d like to keep it that you are the ONLY member of our little party that knows. Besides Ruarc, that is.” She stated, her eyes sharp on her target.

“As long as we are together, I am simply Ellena. Perhaps noble born, yes, but no bowing. No formal greeting, no ‘I support the high court’ business.” She eyed him cautiously. “I’m sure you know what some of them may do if they had the opportunity to pass the information along.”

Understanding the woman at last and familiarity with the chores of tending the animals allowed a knot between Andrich's shoulder blades to finally loosen. "I'd rather -not- know to be honest; I chose to stay out of politics." he confided, a faint burr creeping into his speech without the need for formality. "But t'would be unkind to ye to draw unwanted attention, an' gen'rally cause trouble under the circumstances. Tha's as much as I need to know." he concluded, allowing the matter to drop.

She nodded and turned her attention back to Lala for the moment. Satisfied with the state the animals were in, she gestured Andrich to follow her further in where there was a staircase leading up into the mountain. “Didn’t take this way before, but should head back up into the room we were in.” She stated and led him back to the others for the night.

Feeling the last of the immediate tension concluded, Andrich stayed awake barely long enough to quickly tuck into some of the offered food and not draw from his own reserves. This gave him time enough to share such introductions as were left amongst the rest of the team before bedding down, including an arched eyebrow and a small nod of admiration to the grizzled mercenary; she'd clearly earned her stripes more literally than most. Un-belting his weapons and the heavier parts of his armor, he picked a cot as close as he could to the exit upstairs and settled in for the most sleep he felt he was going to get in the days ahead.
 
Gabin grumbled under his breath, before announcing, "I'll go, but this better be worth my time, druid." With that, he decided to settle down for the night. If it was true what this old mage said, perhaps this was a quest worth pursuing. In addition, he was in familiar company: low-lives, idealists, warriors and the lot. He decided it would be best to stick with them, at least for now.
 
With Grendel finally having his fill, he stood and stretched, completely at home amongst the party of strangers and an ancient druid. "I suggest you wake me carefully, my fellows." He said yawning and yearning for a surface to rest. "I have not had any alcohol, so I will be dangerous to wake. I remember the last time someone woke me. I was feasting on his innards like sausages. Ha, poor fool! Well, goodnight friends."

Grendel closed his eyes while standing, before leaning back and causing a miniature earthquake as he impacted the ground with the full force of himself. And there he slept, as still as a rock, with only snoring being a sign of any life in him.
 
After finally giving in and eating, Marcus would quietly find an empty bed and after some consideration he'd remove his sword and lay it on the cot. Carefully his boots and armor would be removed, the latter with great care. The armor would be wiped down and then oh so carefully he'd set it off to the side of his bed, sitting awkwardly and glancing around at the others.

Sleeping in a room full of strangers was not ideal and it made the warrior... anxious. How was he supposed to sleep and trust that they would all keep to themselves? How was he supposed to sleep with the way the cheerful man was snoring away?

Replacing his pillow with his pack, tucking the bag under his head, Marcus would lay with his sword on the ground beside him, his fingers lightly gripping the hilt. That's how he would sleep, barely moving through the rest of the evening.
 
A tired sigh was let out from between Zachriel's lips, as everyone settled for the night.

He studied each body individually as they made their way to their resting place for the night, measuring out their visible strengths to have a semi-clear picture of what he was to put up with within the following several days.

What in interesting bunch....


His ability to survive with the group of strangers was not the worry that crossed his mind; it was but the anxiety that it implied - Following a group into the great unknown.

He placed his weapons by his side, almost entirely confident no one would approach him throughout the night, and even if they did, Zachriel was known by his hunters to be one of the lightest sleepers. The smallest sound could get him to jolt up onto his feet, with ax in hand... but his body ached in exhaustion, it took no longer than a quiet moment to have him drift into the quiet arms of sleep.
 
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