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Post by Jashin on Jan 23, 2015 6:53:08 GMT
A soft breeze lingered in the deepening evening, carrying the scent of pine and other verdant things about like an old memory. Autumn's touch was beginning to fall on the lands of Aisan in palpable fashion. Cedar and oak bore the kiss of gold upon tender crowns, and already the barest hint of chill hushed in the darker hollows beneath the reaching canopy. Here and there animals darted about in a frenzy of foraging, burning with the fading energy of summer as each hurried to spirit away nut and berry for winter's slumber. A narrow path wended through the forests like a serpent away from farm and field to touch the wild places, offering traveler's a glint of hope that the light of some far-away destination would soon be in sight. Yet as evening deepened, something more primal than night unfurled in the heart of the thicket. Shafts of sunlight dwindled and faded from the land, bringing with it an uneasy dread.
Jashin sighed inwardly and threw back the cowl of his ibliha, amber eyes twitching as they drank in the last of the sun's glow before adjusting to the deepening gloam. Blade-like ears that belonged on an aelfa of legend pricked at every rustle and murmur, but the Hunter sensed no danger lurking in the brush. Still, a slender hand dropped to perch on the hilt of his fali'sara and his swift gait slowed just a hair in caution. He made less sound than the wind through ancient boughs though he was armored, moving with a cat's grace and a predator's surety. There was almost a casual energy about him, as if he had everywhere and nowhere to be. His mind, however, was keenly on the task at hand.
Thirty-seven people, he thought bitterly. That's how many have vanished from this province in the last season. No sign, no whisper of a rumor. By the Goddess, perhaps more that had no family to miss them. This is to be as grasping at moonlight, no scent or trail to begin the hunt. And yet Conclave has called a hunt, and I am dutybound to answer.
A flicker of light dancing in the distance caught his attention and cut his thoughts short with a knifestroke of curiosity. What little information he had managed to glean in the sleepy hamlets of Millshire and Falsbarg painted this area vacant save for a small wayside inn, the Wandering Minstrel. It was a place of safety for travelers passing through the Hasdran Province as the road turned south to curve just above a nearby peninsula bearing the same name. Jashin had been instructed to begin his search there, as the comings and goings of both merchant and peasant could spark the flame of revelation that would light his path to the truth behind the disappearances. Conclave wanted answers, and he was certain that there were families and loved ones who deserved the same. The divarian was determined to see it done.
As the flickering glimmer blossomed to a steady effulgence, Jashin stopped and looked about. Whether he had been lost in thought longer than he would have admitted to himself or through some trick of the wood, he realized he was near the forest's heart. Cursing his carelessness, he drew up his cowl once more and tugged the edge of his cloak over his fali'sara. Steadying his mind, he brushed his free hand over the silver Hunter's mark--the cruciform scythe--embroidered at his collar. As he did, he could feel the careful stitchwork writhe beneath his touch and blacken to blend in with the rest of his dark attire. Conclave wanted answers, and alerting any prey to his approach might spook any chances he had at finding a trail. The Jemar'ai were little more than a band of sellswords and snoops, by Aisan's ken, and a Hunter stood little chance of being well-received in any but the most civilized parts of the kingdom. Jashin would play the part of the weary traveler as best he could as he had been directed and let the Gods lead where They would.
A simple, unassuming building greeted him as he rounded the illuminated bend and began a lazy decent into a cozy vale. Made of stout timber and rough-hewn stone and perched on top of a wayward hillock, the Wandering Minstrel exuded peace and welcome. Torches burned bright on wrought iron posts all around the tavern, driving back the night and leaving no corner cast in shadow. Even from this distance Jashin could here the trickle of water beyond the faint murmur of patrons within the building, and the smell of cooking meat wafted to his nostrils. As he approached a stout woman bustled out through the sturdy door and began to secure the shutters across the windows, pausing only to nod at him before setting back to work.
A simple enough place to begin in this region, he thought absently. All seems well enough here. Now to secure a room and set to work of my own.
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Post by Admin on Jan 23, 2015 7:11:11 GMT
She sat and let her left leg hang over the edge of the soft worn wooden rafter beam she perched on. Several others of her kind sat in similar relaxing poses over the mortals and immortals below them. But for some reason, short of an ocassional scout or hunter used to his solidarity, vampires were prone to being the only ones up this high.
She brushed a wayward ebon hair off her cheek and watched others as they came and went. A single goblet rested in her hands, mostly empty save for a final drop or two of crimson in its bottom. The glass half forgotten and barely balanced. Her long legs were tightly encased in black breeches and her emerald tunic hung in just the right ways to compliment yet not restrict her movements. Eyes of deep silvery blue watched each patron in turn as she sniffed the air for mailiciousness.
After a time, the heat from the fires and soft murmur of conversation left her with eyes half drooped shut. She knew every scent and sound here. She was in no danger. And if she were, her predator would be in for a rude awakening if he thought her some timid and helpless female mortal.
She sighed, though not necessary as she had no need to draw breath, as the barkeep's wife opened the door to go out and shutter the windows for the night.
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Post by Jashin on Jan 23, 2015 8:02:50 GMT
The interior of the Minstrel was as clean and unassuming as the exterior. Jashin stopped just inside the door to allow his eyes to adjust to the writhing glare of the massive stone hearth at the far end of the room. The common room was open and inviting, a large expanse with several sturdy tables where patrons laughed and ate or played at dice. There was a sense of ease here, a bewitching calm that warmed his bones and settled his nerves. It was as if the weight of the open road and weary miles were suddenly lifted from him. As soothing and welcome as it was, there was something in the air that rankled him. A tightness rippled along his skin and through his jaw with all the swiftness of a lightning stroke before burning away in the laughter of the room. Shaking his head, he made his way to the well-polished bar and motioned for the man behind it to attend him.
"Your pleasure, young sir?" the burly Aisani grinned beneath a thick mustache. "Perhaps an ale to wash down the travel dust? Or a room, maybe. The missus turned down the sheets just this morning. Softest beds in all the province, I'd wager, and the perfect thing to melt away the miles. I've accomodations for you and your companions, young sir, rest assured."
Jashin waved away the jocundity with a gloved hand. "I need no space for more than myself. I come for food, and for rumor."
The man blinked at the divarian's thick accent, then barked a laugh. "Traveling alone, eh? Not many pass through here without company, young sir. But you look like a strapping lad who can handle himself right enough. A night and a meal for a few fithing for the brave hero, then. Will you take your mutton in your room, or by the hearth?"
The strange tingle rippled across his skin again, and Jashin's jaw tightened against the urge to shake himself to be free of it. It was a sensation he had not felt in quite a time, since before he had been sold to Carmine and her Master. Something was amiss here, the barest whisper of realization like shadows in his fingers. The shade of his cowl hid the twitch of his lip in consternation, and he disguised his unease by digging through his beltpouch for the few coins the Conclave had deigned to give him. Setting a silver on the counter and pinning it beneath his fingertips, Jashin regarded the man carefully.
"I would speak with one whose holdings these are, as they please."
Another strange look at his accent and choice of words, followed by a nod, was his reply. Satisfied to a point, the divarian lifted his fingers and allowed the man to scoop up his coin and secure it before returning to him with a few [pennies].
"Though I would prefer to say I am the one you're after," the man chuckled, "this place belongs to my wife, Mira. Set yourself down anywhere you like, young sir. I'll fetch your food and see if the missus can spare a moment from her diligent doings here. If there is anything further you need, let ol' Gestav know. Welcome to the Wandering Minstrel."
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Post by Admin on Jan 24, 2015 4:57:52 GMT
She watched him come in and for some reason, the aura around him drew her to stare. What was a hunter doing here? She could smell death on him. Could feel the tingle of raw power. But he wasn't a mage. It wasn't magic of the arcane... more like something from nature. She started to think perhaps he was a druid or preast, but then he claimed to the barkeep that he was alone. No druid or priest would dare traverse these woods alone, and never at night.
Curiosity made her move to her knees and then the balls of her feet. As she shifted, he stilled. He never looked up, but something inside her screamed that she had been discovered. There was certainly no way he could see her. The owner of the bar had been kind enough to have the rafters bespelled so that as long as they made no noise, or dropped anything, those in the wooden beams were safe from prying eyes. The trade off was no one was allowed to hunt from her clientele. It seemed fair enough, and it allowed for a place of information gathering that kept the undead safe.
Alexa stared down as the man moved to slide a silver coin to the keep. She easily heard the hushed tone of voice, but it was the timber and pitch that caught her attention most. He was here for something. And that meant she would stay her departure just a few moments more. She knew the lady, Mira, would come to the man. This was a chance to find out what he sensed about this place, and if she was safe.
Shifting slightly, but remaining on the balls of her feet, one hand poised between them on the beam for balance, she settled in to see what she would discover.
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Post by Jashin on Jan 24, 2015 8:57:11 GMT
The divarian sank onto the heavy wooden stool with a sigh of gratitude, pushing his cowl just far back enough that it would be possible to eat without looking overly suspicious. His anjir had warned him that his unusual features might draw more attention to himself than he would care for, and this rang true as a nearby patron paused in his conversation briefly before correcting his faux pas. The man offered an embarrassed nod, probably an attempt at greeting to cover his balk, and Jashin nodded politely in return. Closing his eyes and bowing his head just a hair, the Hunter let a trickle of hai'zjin seep into his body and his appearance alter just a bit. The amber drained from his gaze until they bore the hue of pale arctic ice, and his ears dulled to round curves more akin to that of a human. Even after learning more about himself from Ero's careful instruction it was all he could do. Holding the shape was like keeping his fist clenched; it was a natural thing, but took a sliver of his focus to maintain. Still and yet, it was progress and there was comfort in such a thing.
A journey yet to regain the skins I bore as a child, before that day. One stride before another.
"Here you are, then."
Jashin looked up just as the stout woman he had seen outside passed his shoulder and set a bowl of steaming stew before him on the table. Mira was a handsome woman by human standards even though the weight of years had frosted her flaxen bun. She gave him a broad smile before wringing her hands through her apron and plopping down on the stool opposite him with a huff. The divarian nodded his thanks and dipped his spoon in the stew, intending to take a polite bite before engaging her in conversation. Half the bowl was gone before he could stop himself, and Mira laughed at the color flooding his cheeks.
"Don't ya mind me, young master. I don't mean no offense." She gave him a sly wink and brushed her nose with her thumb, laughing again at his confused stare. "Now how can I help ya, good sir? Gestav says ya want my ear, so here I be."
As he had been instructed to do by Conclave, Jashin removed the shield-like badge he had been given and set it on the table. Etched on its face were two lances crossed before a tall tower. The woman studied him very carefully, then the badge. Nodding, she folded her arms beneath her breasts as he slipped the sigil away. His shoulders tightened as he noticed a swift chill to her demeanor, and somehow the room echoed her. Men around him, once jovial before, seemed to watch him with a menacing glare and the hearth did not warm his shoulders as it once did. As if sensing his realization, Mira offered him another grin and everything was as it had been upon his entry. The divarian wanted to shake himself, but stuffed the feeling down with a polite nod of respect. He had a duty to perform, and he would see it done.
"Pardon, young master, but ya seem a bit green ta be working for the Hall of Inquiries. Still, I'm a king's woman--may the sun shine on him and his line--and exist to serve the Crown. What would ya ask of me?"
Jashin pushed his near-empty bowl back and leaned a bit closer that his voice would not carry too far. "A moon-span past, a man traveled through this region with his guard. An emissary, his duty was. His path would have carried him near, or to, your lodgings. Tall, well-bred, and bearing Aisan's seals with pride. Neither he nor his men reported to their destination. Have you seen such men?"
"An emissary, ye say?" Mira propped her chin thoughtfully on her knuckles and stared past him at something that was not there. "I don't think we've entertained the like since before mid-summer, young master. Certainly not the troupe ye describe. No disrespect to ye, young sir, but ya do not smack of Aisani stock. Where do ya hail from?"
Jashin quirked a brow. "Northern Vorvania, mistress. Sandel Province. What bearing does my birth have on the matter of which we speak?"
"Oh, blessings, I meant no offense, young master." Mira chuckled as her cheeks flushed. "I was only trying to make conversation, I was. Lighten the mood, and all that. Besides, an important man as you say? Can't be too careful with that like. Plenty brigands and thieves'd pick a one like that clean as moonlight."
"He was not the first to disappear in this region," Jashin added as the woman shifted to rise. She stopped, eying him sidelong as if he had done something interesting. "Others have been reported missing, and it is my duty to uncover their place... or their rest. It would be a great boon to me if you would share what you recall."
Mira nodded and stood, face gravely serious. "As I said, young master, I serve the crown. I wouldn't wish harm on any man or woman what trods past my door, no. I'll keep my ear up for whispers of what yer after, rest assured. You just do your duty and untangle your mystery. And don't worry about yer bed, young master. It's on the house, out of respect for Hall and Crown. Now, begging yer pardon, but I've an inn to run."
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Post by Admin on Jan 31, 2015 5:12:52 GMT
So he 'was' a hunter. She smiled. Somehow it made her feel better. Even though the fact it was people he hunted and not animals still set her nerves on edge. He was being given a free night's stay. That meant he wouldn't be leaving soon... meaning she should.
Sliding sideways, careful not to catch herself on the high polished wood and perhaps cause a splinter that may fall and reveal more than rats in the room eaves, she edged towards the small window at the back that gave the rafter residents access without suddenly dropping down into the patrons below with no warning.
That thought always brought a smile to her face. She often wondered how the room would react to a gorgeous man, or even a beautiful woman suddenly appearing out of nowhere and landing with a dull thud in the middle of a dining table.
They had all promised to behave when in the inn, so no one would dare... but the thought of it still held amusement for her when she was bored. She slipped lightly out the window and wandered in the back door as if she hadn't just been in there for the last several hours. Moving to the bar, she tapped Mira on the shoulder. "Lady, here is my coin." She smiled and nodded slipping the woman her monthly stipend several of them paid for the ocassional 'drink' she was able to supply. The blood was always from animals, never humans, and was available in descrete bottles to those who knew what to ask for.
"Oh dear, child." The woman laughed. "I had nearly forgot you were out back. I am soory if I haven't come to see to your refills." She took the coin and hugged Alexa back as if they had done this a thousand times. The dance was the same each time, though ocassionally the words changed depending on weather, moods, and patrons. This time there was no need to make a fuss. A simple phrase explained why the woman was coming in to hand coin, then depart swiftly once more.
"No worries, M'Lady. I was actually glad for the solitude. Thank you. I will see you again soon." Without another word, she turned to go.
Unfortunately, as she moved with almost feline grace towards the back door once more, her gaze was drawn like a magnet to the man sitting at the table that had drawn her interest a bit ago. At his level his features were stunning... exotic, almost. Without being obvious. She marvelled at his beauty and stared at him, her unbeating heart somehow still wishing he would look up and see her, if only for a moment.
It was that thought that made her jump slightly when someone passing by brushed her shoulder. She let out a small squeak of surprise and hurried for the back door as if whatever she was going to was of a life or death matter. In a way it was... she had wanted his life. Wanted to taste him. Feel his beautiful exotic skin beneath her fingers and taste his salty vitae to find out if his beauty was more than skin deep.
To her, that made departure all the more necessary. She didn't feed well and didn't want her beast waking up inside her. She had kept a good rein on him recently... she couldn't afford to slip now.
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Post by Jashin on Jan 31, 2015 8:27:39 GMT
Jashin finished his stew with ravenous focus, pushing his bowl back with an appreciative sigh. Respectfully arranging his spoon beside the bowl as he had been taught, the divarian rolled his shoulders and scanned the room for what had to be the dozenth time since Mira had left him. It was all the same. Men playing at dice, laughing and ribbing one another. Men hunched over a tankard or a King's Field board, focused on something only they could see. The occasional patron coming down from the second floor or retreating to it. Mira bustling back and forth about her duties, refilling mug or plate or bowl when she wasn't engaging someone in idle conversation. Gestav tending the pub, trying to watch everyone while polishing the hard wood of his bar. It was all familiar to him, nothing amiss, and perfectly normal. He had seen a dozen alehouses and inns such as this throughout Aisan during his travel and training with Ero. Yet the tightness along his skin would not subside no matter how he shifted on his stood, nor would the ache in his jaw fade with the taste of stew. The talinj sighed inwardly. Perhaps it was merely nerves, the weight of both miles and duty pressing at him towards an outcome that he could not foresee. He was intent on doing his anjir proud, and in so doing Conclave.
He took a moment to review the few notes that he had managed to scrawl down in the notebook in his beltpouch, not concerned who might have been passing by. Jashin had no illusions that any gathered here could read the rafa'liha, let alone decipher their meanings. Beyond Arador, his own brother, he had not crossed paths with another divari. That meant the Shards had not lost their power and Divaria had not breached the Periphery to rejoin Enos. Each night his thoughts had drifted to his homeland, wondering how his patron and matron were doing and if they were still alive. What had happened to Saris, and what was being done to restore the Shards? He was no closer to understanding what had befallen his People than he had since coming to Conclave. It was still his fervent hope that his time as a Hunter would allow him to unravel the mystery surrounding Saris' disappearance. A shudder rippled through him and jarred him from his reverie, and he looked around before he understood what had drawn his attention.
The ache in his flesh had ebbed.
It only lasted a few breaths, but it had retreated down his spine like a slow tide to nestle in the pit of his stomach. Yet the strange feeling slid over and through him again just as he heard the back door open. Curious, he turned his head in the direction of the sound and studied the woman that stepped into the establishment. Dark of hair and pale of skin, he could not immediately place her country of origin as so many of his Hunter brethren could. Her torso was bound tightly in a verdant tunic, bosom straining the fabric in such a way that not a few men in the common room took more than a passing interest in her. Breeches of the darkest night clung to her slender legs, well-worn matching boots tapping a rough staccato on the hardwood floor. A glass goblet was grasped almost lazily between lithe fingers. Not wanting to alert her to his study, he went back to glancing at his notebook. Yet his mind turned her appearance over and over as his anjir had taught him. Something about her bothered him, and the divarian could not grasp at what.
Consider all details of your prey, Jashin, Ero had cautioned. If your instincts tell you that a thing is not right, listen to it. Many masters will caution you to think well through your course, but I say quite the opposite. A man can think too much, consider too long. Hesitation can and will get you killed. I do not say that you should leap at the throat of every man that rankles you. I only encourage you to let your inner self guide your attentions when it comes to a thing that raises your hackles.
Jashin's cool gaze slid over the woman again, trying to drink in every detail while searching for the thing that gnawed at him. The first striking detail was the goblet, glass where he had only seen stout clay tankards or wooden cups. As she laughed and passed a rather full purse to Mira, he was able to dismiss the goblet as trappings of her apparent caste. A woman dressed thusly and passing around money as she had was obviously of some form of human nobility; the concept of gluttony and wanton materialism had dulled his revulsion for humanity, such a thing being almost anathema to the People. He watched as Mira smiled and waved away her concerns and apologies, offering a few of her own. The Hunter cursed his lack of vigilance, for he had not seen signs of the dark-haired woman on his approach to the establishment. As the two women talked, he watched the proprietress absently finish filling a man's tankard before handing it back to him without looking.
The other woman offered a few more pleasantries that Jashin could not make out before turning to leave. He folded his notebook closed and tucked it away, lowering his gaze just a fraction as her own passed in his direction. He could see her at the edge of his vision, though there was little more detail than her presence--he had not yet mastered the skill of seeing without looking that Ero had tried to impress upon him before the divarian had departed for this region. He could feel her watching, however, a heavy weight in the back of his mind. Still the feeling of wrongness persisted, and he bent his mind to the task. Perhaps it was not quite with the woman herself, but with something having to do with her appearance in the tavern. She moved with grace and purpose, but that could simply mean she knew how to carry herself in the world. Females trained in the ways of war certainly were not new to the divarian, certainly. Shaking himself almost bodily, he lifted a hand to get the attention of Mira as custom dictated. The elder woman smiled and nodded in his direction, bustling over to him with a grace of her own.
"Aye, young sir?" she chuckled, scooping up his bowl and spoon without a glance. "Finished, are we? There's more if ye're still hungry, I'm sure. I pride meself on keeping my customers happy, I do. What more can I do for ya?"
She gasped then, and it took a breath for Jashin to realize that he was nearly glaring at her. She murmured an apology and backed away before he could sober and soothe whatever fears he had put into her. Grumbling under his breath, the Hunter almost lost the thought that had evoked such an intense energy. The woman shows great pride and attention to her patrons, he mused, and yet she apologized to the other female for her lack of attention. Yet I have not seen an empty cup, bowl, tankard, or plate since my arrival.
A startled squeak snapped his attention to the strange woman once more, and he watched her nearly flee through the establishment's rear door. He watched her brush past several patrons as if they were of no moment, and he could more clearly see that her movements bordered on preternatural. Snarling, he righted himself and moved to follow, hand resting on the hilt of his fali'sara. He could hear Gestav calling for his attention, but Jashin would not be dissuaded. There was something very wrong about the dark-haired woman. Her appearance had been the stone that had disturbed the calm of the Wandering Minstrel, and he was intent on finding out why. Whether it had to do with the disappearances he had been sent to investigate or not, Jashin would get his answers.
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Post by Admin on Feb 5, 2015 5:21:17 GMT
Alexa hurried outside and forced herself to calmly stride thru the small gathering on the back patio before nearly bolting as soon as her soft boots hit the grass.
She was almost a quarter mile from the tavern when she finally slowed down, rested her back against and tree and bit her lip. "What in all the gods made you want 'him', Alexa?" She tried to laugh but covered her mouth as it sounded more maniacle and less than the lightness she had intended. She groaned and peered around the tree carefully to see if she was being followed.
The large trunk hid her well from anyone running straight up behind her, but as her head poked slowly around, her dark hair and nearly glowing porcelain face would be revealed to anyone who was actually looking.
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Post by Jashin on Feb 6, 2015 7:20:24 GMT
A woman jumped, startled, as Jashin pushed the back door to the Wandering Minstrel open hard enough to thump against the stonework. An empty look from him was all it took to stifle whatever snide protest her male companion was about to make. That, and the soft rasp of steel as he thumbed the hilt of his fali'sara away from its scabbard. Tucked artfully at the back of the tavern was a small patio that held a pair of stone tables and benches for outdoor dining, well-worn by weather and use. Carefully-cut grounds reached away from the sprawling building before meeting with thick wall of trees and brush beyond. Of the black-haired woman, there was no sign. Growling to himself, the Hunter locked his blade once more and pushed the door shut behind him. With a flick of his wrist and a breath of hai'zjin, he traced a sigil on the wood with his fingertip.
"Abé." It was a simple word, but he could feel the magick slither from between his fingers and seep into the wood, warping it to keep it sealed long enough for him to make more sense of what was going on.
Keeping an eye on the patrons nearby, who made no move provoke the armed Hunter, he cleared his mind of all the questions that bubbled to the surface. There was something that lingered in the air, a tingle of energy. The tightness in his skin had lessened again, almost as if it had been pulled away from him by an invisible thread. Closing his eyes, he let his body lean toward that pull. It was such a faint and curious thing but it was also primal and palpable. He could only liken it to breathing, something his body naturally did in such a way to not draw his attention unless something was amiss. The scuffing of his boot on the cooling stone brought him back to himself, and the divarian felt his lip curl as his fingers tightened on his blade.
"To be a Hunter is to be a duality amongst yourself," Ero had cautioned. "We are not animals; we are guided by the High Mind. This means that we must consider the consequences of our actions and move through the world with great care. Each step we take, and each life we save or take, will echo throughout time and history in ways that even the wisest of us cannot see. We are also takers of lives, predators that stalk and slay creatures that have abandoned the High Mind and embraced the Primal Instinct. Only a beast can slay a beast, and there will be times you must throw aside concerns for love and honor and morality and simply kill. In this, we are in danger of losing ourselves as our prey. The struggle is in finding the balance and holding onto it with every fiber of your being. You will know when to let slip the High Mind and become the Hunter you seek to be. Should you lose your way back to yourself, you will become what you hate most."
Taking a deep breath, Jashin opened himself to that ripple across his skin that pulled at him and simply followed it. The sound of his blade slipping free of its scabbard was lost in the rush of wind past his ears as he ran--as he flowed--across the open lawn and plunged headlong into the brush. It was an exhilarating feeling, being on the hunt for this woman, and one that startled him enough that he nearly lost his footing on a thick patch of moss. Yet his body moved and carried him onward. The itch in his skin grew as the copse slid by, and the dull ache in his jaw returned. His mind whirled with the possibilities of what was to come were he to find her, if she were to present him with battle. The anticipation of her screams whispered in his ears, the sense of his blade biting into her flesh sang along his arm. His fingers twitched at the thought of gripping her pale flesh while he tore at her, teeth clenched so hard that he could almost taste blood.
Her blood.
Jashin stopped beside a thick tree, leaning against the cool wood and gasping in ragged pulls. It was not fatigue that gripped him but the fear and realization of the boundary within himself that he had nearly crossed. It had been such a strong craving, a burning need. Where had it come from? Had it been the Primal Instinct his anjir had warned him to master? Or had it always been there, lurking like a hungry animal until he was vulnerable? A flicker of pale motion on the edge of his vision jarred him from his horror, blade snapping up before him in a low guard. He could see the curve of her shoulder just a few paces ahead of him, a wayward breeze trailing through her hair and drifting out from behind a large bole.
"Stop there." The divarian's voice came out in a low rasp, and he swallowed hard. "By the authority of the Crown, I demand your name and business."
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Post by Admin on Feb 6, 2015 7:34:45 GMT
She had been about to run when she realized the proximity of someone. But as he called her to task and identification, she froze for another reason... it was 'him'.
She kept her back to the tree, closed her eyes a moment and bit her lip. She shivered a moment though she was incapable of being cold. At least, the cold didn't affect her. Her undead skin was cold as death to the touch. But she didn't plan on letting him get that close.
"Leave me alone. I don't want any trouble. Please... just le tme go home in peace." She didn't turn around but she opened her eyes. Her pale flesh rippled as she clenched her fists against the bark at her back. She didn't turn for two reasons...
One was because she didn't want to see him, to want him, to crave him.
And two, he sounded winded, and upset. She didn't want to provoke him. Maybe he wasn't the hunter she thought he was. He was something more predatorial. Perhaps he hunted helpless woman... She bit her lip again and this time her voice cracked as she pleaded once more, sounding, at least she hoped, like a simple scared woman wanting to be left alone. "Please... I paid my tab, I am just wanting to go home."
At least she wasn't lieing, something she was terrible at.
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Post by Jashin on Feb 6, 2015 8:08:10 GMT
Jashin's glare cracked as she pleaded, but did not break entirely. As she spoke, he did not hear her voice begging to be allowed to leave. Though he could see her cheeks move and the muscles in her neck twitch as she spoke, he could hear Carmine's sweet lilt floating to him on the crisp night air. Perhaps it was her tone that reminded him of his old owner--no, not that. Never that again--his captor begging his forgiveness for the savage assault on his body. There was a brokenness to that tone, a flicker of contrition. What had she to feel shame for? The thought burned at the back of his mind as he pushed away from the tree and stepped to where he could see her hands, blade poised just so ahead of him. He maintained a distance of perhaps two paces, a space that his instincts told him was just right to give him fair odds at countering whatever she might bring to bear.
"Your debt with the proprietor is not my concern; your evasion is. I will permit you one opportunity to correct this error, and to explain why you fled." Without averting his gaze, he slipped his fingertips into his beltpouch and showed her the inscribed badge. Perhaps a trick of light and shadow, the gold trim caught a pale shaft of moonlight and set her pale skin aglow. "The innocent do not run from justice, but are sheltered by the rod of laws."
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Post by Admin on Feb 6, 2015 8:19:40 GMT
As he stepped around the tree and faced her, she felt trapped. She wasn't, truly, because she had strength, speed and the cover of night on her side. Didn't she?
When he reached into his pouch, her body tightened almost imperceptibly. Though it was only a badge he prodeced to her vision, her body didn't relax. Why was he seeking her? Why single her out? "I was just leaving. Is there a reason I shouldn't have?" She tried to raise her chin with confidence as her mind told her this 'mere mortal' was nothing to fear. But her senses screamed differently. Her hands clenched and unclenched nervously at her side. Her nails occasionally scratching on the tree still bracing her backside.
He was a predator.
There was no mistaking it. It was in his stance, his voice and the way he produced his proof of office though it was clear on his face he cared not for the metal in his hand.
"I ... I merely wanted to leave. It's late. I just want to go home." She gathered all her courage, absently brushed a wind blown strand of ebon hair back behind her ear, though the wind quickly miplaced it once more, and tried to step around him. She kept her arms tight to her side, not wanting to touch him. Something told her it wasn't going to be easy, but she had to get away from him. The danger bell ringing in her mind wasn't going to be ignored though her other senses told her she was being foolish.
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Post by Jashin on Feb 6, 2015 8:43:26 GMT
The tightness in his skin still grating on his nerves and the memory of the near-bloodlust he had felt still fresh in his mind, Jashin's eyes narrowed as she evaded his questions yet again and insisted being let go. He watched her expression flicker and change as she spoke, obviously at war within herself as to what to do. The divarian found himself in a similar position: although he had the full authority of the Kingdom of Aisan to place her under arrest, she had broken no real laws. It was only her suspicious behavior at the tavern that had brought him to her, nothing more. Perhaps there was some truth in what she had to say; with the disappearances in the region, perhaps she had simply made to hurry home before the night deepened to greatly. It was all speculation, of course, since she was openly refusing to allay his misgivings. But there it was, and coupled with the instinctual feeling of wrongness, Jashin was not ready quite yet to simply give over.
As she made to move past him, he let his blade dip a bit as he stepped back. When it was clear she had no intention to engage him, the Hunter sheathed his fali'sara with a flourish and regarded her back. He would let her go on her way. There were other ways to get what information he needed.
"As you will," he murmured. Adjusting his cloak to conceal his hand on the hilt of his blade, he began to follow her while maintaining a respectable distance. A safe distance. "Lead on."
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Post by Admin on Feb 6, 2015 9:00:46 GMT
"Thank you." She nodded politely though a bit stiffly as he lowered his blade and allowed her to move unimpeded. But as she realized he meant to follow, she frowned. Pausing in her motion, she turned to face him. "Why am I leading? I have done nothing wrong. Please. Just leave me alone." She hadn't meant to, but the final words came out almost a growl.
She bit her lip and took a step back. "Please... just let me go. She turned without another word and began to run. It took all her energy to not just use her speed and disappear. She didn't want him to be more drawn to her. Maybe he would take the hint and leave her be. After all, there was no real reason to follow her.
Her body rippled with the vitae magic burning inside her. She wanted to just move like the wind. To be free of this man whose deep eyes and full lips pulled at something deep inside her. She had been alone since Devon's death nearly 20 yrs ago. She had been careful in her feeding to never allow sex to enter the equation. It made the control harder to maintain. So when this 'man' caught her attention, it frightened her more than anything else in a long time.
She wanted him, wanted to be near him. Yet he scared her on a level that every animal, man or beast, knows. that level that screams to you to run for your life with every fiber of your being. Yet, because he was watching, she was forced to practically walk fast... in respect to the blur she could have been
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Post by Jashin on Feb 6, 2015 9:20:59 GMT
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Whatever remnants of Carmine's voice had crept into hers were gone, and she was just another woman. A woman that neither wanted to be protected in dangerous territory nor was submissive to authority. Both made Jashin wary of her. That, and the fact that she moved like a cornered animal rather than a person. No, not quite like an animal but just this side of one. The way her shoulders dipped each time his arms so much as twitched, the subtle shift of her footing when the distance between them closed too much. And then there was the flicker of something darker in her eyes once and again when she stopped speaking and started thinking. Something that spoke to the Primal Instinct lurking in the shadows of his soul. No matter how much she played the wounded deer or the fleeting rabbit, there was a hunger that smoldered behind those eyes. A part of her was weighing a malevolent desire, possibly her odds at surviving doing him harm.
Jashin snarled when she turned on her heels and ran. She was quick, but he had been prepared against the idea of her escape as much as assault. Taking two quick steps forward, he pivoted on one heel and spun in a lightning circle. With a practiced flick of his wrist, two coin-sized metal disks snapped from his outstretched fingers and spun a gossamer metal thread between them. His aim for her legs was true and he felt a grim sneer of satisfaction slide onto his face as the silvery line stretched out to embrace her.
Done before beginning, he thought to himself. My Master will be pleased.
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