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Post by rosallora on May 4, 2019 19:42:04 GMT -8
Coral Maiden, Coffin Mine
 The night was fair as it could be.
A group of four, each alike in their own personal dignities, are waved away by the Caretaker. At his little station, he has his trinkets, his shovels, his packets of herbs and bottles of holy water. Where they would be going, water was abundant, and the thought brings a smile to his cold lips, a raspy laugh filtering through yellowed, crooked teeth.
Overhead, the moon glowed, its silvery face turned towards the blighted lands of the estate. Gulls rattled from their places on the cliffside as the party walked, each negotiating their part of the shared burden: food, a rusty and untrustworthy shovel, two bundles of herbs, and rope for the descent down the rocky precipice that the group would have to brave. The cliffs were edged in silver moonlight, the salt from the sea thrown into their hair and clothing as they neared the beginning of their journey proper. The tide had reached one of its extreme lows - it was only a few times a year that such an event was to happen, and they'd have to make the most of it. Such was the request of the Heir - and one didn't refuse those requests.
The path to the cliffside walk is paved in sandy silt and lined with rounded stones, making for an easy trek. The breeze that came off the ocean was almost pleasantly warm as it rose from the obsidian-colored rock below. It could be called peaceful, and might have passed as such - if not for the task that lay ahead.
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Post by twostepsback on May 5, 2019 0:15:00 GMT -8
"Might as well get the introductions started," Charis stated as she adjusted the shovel resting upon her shoulder. "My name is Charis, and despite my current attire," Charis remarked as she indicated the dull grey 'prowler's wear' she was garbed in with a sweeping gesture. "I am actually a member of the Church of Light. I am not particularly good at channeling Holy energies, but hopefully, my talents in alchemy and swordplay will make up for that." Charis wraps up as she turns to face the others. "Who wants to go next?"
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Post by Vanitypirate on May 5, 2019 8:10:08 GMT -8
Ponytail was a small man, but he marched with the tireless strength of a soldier.
It was a good day to hunt-- every day was a good day to hunt, but this one was especially fortuitous. Never before had he stalked a creature of the seas, at a time when the moon and oceans put it at a rare disadvantage. At low tide, they'd walk where the sea had fled.
His garishly-green feather swayed in the breeze as a river reed would, as he walked. He amused himself at the thought of this small woman with any skill in swordplay, when her skinny arms looked barely strong enough to lift a dagger, and she was a head shorter than the rest of the flock of women that had joined him.
It was a shame that the smallest girl looked to be the most prepared: only one of them had brought her own personal arms, and the rest were dressed in citizen's clothes. One with her long, auburn hair flowing, so easily snagged in a hurry...
He decided resolutely it was no matter, it was simply up to him to protect the women from their foolishness.
"Let us waste no breath on idle talk. We must not tire ourselves until the march is over." The musketeer spoke in a thickly French accent, "I am called Ponytail. Give us your names, and we march on."
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Post by Machevelli on May 5, 2019 8:47:57 GMT -8
“U-uh, I’m Missy. I-I’m not very good at fighting but I hope my other abilities will be of use...” She trailed off, shrinking away from the party’s gaze as she looked towards the last party member, hoping Talea would speak and save her.
She didn’t really know what to think of Charis, but Ponytail definitely made her nervous. Nobody in the party really seemed approachable, which really scared Missy. What if they turned on her once she revealed she could transform? What would she do if they got into a fight and she was absolutely useless? She was really regretting going on this expedition, but she couldn’t rely on Tilly’s kindness forever.
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Post by EtherealNoire on May 5, 2019 9:41:47 GMT -8
Shadowed beneath ivory, the third woman appeared as though she walked in another world, for only carcass hollows gazed out at those who spoke, empty as the path before them that loomed in the eve. With the moonlight captured in her skin, only her trailing locks painted color to what could have been a specter, catching fire in the ocean's salted breath as if she could light the night with will alone.
She spoke nothing when the young light-dweller turned to her, gasping for words. Instead she stooped, gathering a single pebble from the wayside between cupped fingers. It gleamed in her palm like a newborn moon and in her eyes, the glow found kinship.
At last on a whisper spoken as a song, she shared her name.
"Talea."
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Post by rosallora on May 5, 2019 10:06:32 GMT -8
With the last word spoken, a gust of air pressed up against the group, filling their noses with the smell of brine. The moon was covered by a cloud in the interim, its light filtered, softening their surroundings. Wild grasses wavered in the breeze, the dark of the night all around them. There was endless possibility in the darkness: in the hollow of the sky, and the sea that reflected it.
The path winding downwards towards the Cove was dusted in sea-spray and rock - the sandy soil tapered off, giving way to crags, a kind of gutter that twisted down and away from the sight of the Hamlet. Divots in the stone suggested footsteps that wore away rock in the same way that the waves beat against the shore, shifting the landscape one movement at a time. Little plants found their way into the cracks between rocks, twining and vining their way to and fro, soft purple and white blossoms reaching out to the moon's light, the jagged edges of their leaves suggesting the serrated edges of flesh-tearing teeth.
Poles of hard-wood had been hammered into the sculpted staircase, acting as hand-holds by which to navigate the otherwise treacherous passage. The rock was slippery with the condensation of the night, but this was the way.
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Post by Machevelli on May 5, 2019 10:30:35 GMT -8
Missy followed the party down the slippery rocks, too lost in thought worrying about the other party members and their thoughts to notice the end of a rock and she stumbled. Unable to catch herself on anything, Missy tripped and fell, letting out a shrill cry. Midway through her fall, she instinctively transformed into a cat, completely forgetting about her fears.
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Post by Vanitypirate on May 5, 2019 10:51:52 GMT -8
Ponytail was perhaps a tad too confident in his footing, moving forward-- or, rather, too confident in the moonlight as the sky shifted and obscured them in darkness. Thankfully, a hand-hold was there to steady him. But it seemed that Missy was not so lucky.
She slipped forward, and Ponytail reacted quickly, reaching to grab the collar of her shirt before she could injure herself on the mist-slicked stone steps. But rather than grabbing fabric, as the clothes fell limply to the ground, his hands grasped a furry scruff.
This transformation had him stumble, shocked. If not for his grip on the hand-hold, he might have fallen.
His olive-green eyes widened and his jaw slackened in want of words that he could not summon. Instead he stared dumbly at the cat in his grip.
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Post by twostepsback on May 5, 2019 11:18:48 GMT -8
Mist-moistened stone steps couldn't hold a candle to some of the surfaces she had to traverse back in Karnaka. Sure-footed as ever, Charis moves down the stone steps, only stopping to look behind her at the sudden outcry, to see Ponytail holding an inexplicable cat by the scruff of its neck... Or maybe not-so inexplicable, once Charis notes the pile of clothes beneath said cat. "Missy? Is that you?" Charis asks while tilting her head to one side.
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Post by EtherealNoire on May 5, 2019 14:09:50 GMT -8
From the tail of their descent, Talea paused upon the stones, captivated by the cat's mewl in ways human words could not. It drew her gaze far from nature's sight, though its grey eyes frothed against the crags below, bitter over their intrusion. Instead she stood amidst its salted tears in a wave of intrigue, awash with a hush that settled like a fog amongst the sojourners, intangible yet impossible to ignore. For in the wake of shock, even the urgency of time was subdued to curiosity's will.
As the first queries rose over the ocean's cries, Talea settled against the crags, yet another flower nestled amidst the exposed maw of night.
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Post by Machevelli on May 5, 2019 14:59:50 GMT -8
Missy yowled as she stopped falling and was grabbed by Ponytail, struggling and swinging her legs a bit before giving up and hanging limp.
“Meow.” Of course, being a cat, she had no way to answer Charis’ question except a series of meows that were still probably incomprehensible to non-cats. There was no way she would turn back in front of all of them, seeing as her clothes were on the ground and she would literally die of embarassment, so she just hung limp in Ponytail’s grasp.
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Post by twostepsback on May 5, 2019 15:20:14 GMT -8
Charis lets out an amused huff. "I'm guessing this is one of the 'Other abilities' you mentioned earlier?" She remarks as she moves to gather up Missy's fallen clothes. "Neat trick, I know Bernard would love to have someone like you in the guild."
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Post by Vanitypirate on May 5, 2019 20:47:22 GMT -8
Ponytail stared, baffled, at the Missy-turned-cat, ginger brows furrowed as he hastily made to calculate what had just transpired before his eyes.
A shapeshifter, evidently; that much was obvious. He had heard of such tales in his travels: people who could transform into their spirit animal under the light of the moon, witch doctors who tapped into some unseen magic and wore it like armor.
This was the first time he'd seen a tale as this play out.
"...Missy." He rubbed his brow as he came to terms with this new revelation. Perhaps she was stronger than she seemed... which still was not much. A kitten was not much of an imposing force.
"Stay as this form. You will be safer. A cat is more graceful-- less clumsy than a person." He decided quickly.
"You must find a better time to tell us about your guild. Let our hunt be our sole focus until the night is over."
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Post by Machevelli on May 5, 2019 21:13:24 GMT -8
Missy meowed and shook her head, shifting into a crow to spite Ponytail. She flew around his head cawing before landing atop Talea's head. She cawed once more before settling down on the skull atop her head.
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Post by EtherealNoire on May 6, 2019 11:18:21 GMT -8
A crow?
As though awakened from slumber, Talea rose from the cliffside's jagged bed, and graced the winged one with a single finger drawn across its coat. Ebony as a starless sky, its feathers glistened in the spray and her thoughts drifted to one who sheltered in the night, glinting with hollow eyes like moons forgotten in their descent.
They were the same, yet as different as shadows to the light. One flightless trapped in mortal shell, the other mortal in nature's garb. Could such blessing free the souls who had been lost? Estranged from death in cursed hearts.
Her breath swirled in the mist.
"Fret not the darkness waiting nigh, for thy path is sure amidst those who venture on." And as she finished, her lips parting in a smile, song and silence mingled as one into the fog.
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