The Crossroads

Whether they be from a world of technology and cities or an ancient civilization, whether they have magic running through their blood or just a sword in hand, they have one thing in common: they were travelling. Going someplace, sometime, somehow. It was on a road, a winding road, and it led them from their safety of their home - or perhaps just what was left of it. For whatever reason they followed this path and didn't turn back as they realized this wasn't where they were going. Or maybe it was, and they followed it for no other reason than to get where they were going.

Either way, they didn't end up where they were going. Every so slowly the landscape turned into a tree-filled pine forest, the air clear and the breeze chill. They couldn't turn around now - whatever place they came from is now gone.

The path, whether it was a road, street, or something else, is now but a trail winding through the mountainous land. The day become colder as the winds howl, soft flakes of snow falling to the earth. It will soon be a storm.

But then there is an inn up on the trail, a medieval-style building with a sign blowing around that reads "The Rising Phoenix". They go here, or they don't, for this is where our story begins: outside this inn in the coming storm, on a winding trail in the mountains, far, far away from wherever they came from.

The man pocketed his hands in his trench coat, walking down the moonlit street. Not even a lamppost was there to light his way; this far out, there wasn't much aside from the stars. The only buildings were the occasional barn or farm house, owls swooping low over the empty fields in search of rodents.

After a ways he turns off onto a small trail he never noticed before, curious. His golden eyes surveyed the land, then, deciding it wasn't dangerous, he began to follow it.

It went through the farmland like the gravel road that he'd been walking along. Still, the owls' screeches reached is ears and the crickets singing in a chorusing harmony continued their night-long song. He lost track of time, watching as the world around him began to change - and when he turned around, there was no way out.

Wind bit at the large man's face and neck, the only parts of him not covered by his coat, boots, or thick pants as he continued putting one foot in front of the other. He wasn't afraid but he was concerned, concerned that he may not be able to get home.

That was when the snow started to fall, first in small flakes, then in more generous amounts. Pulling his collar up and putting his head down against the wind he plowed onwards, catching sight of an inn, like one from the middle ages. Intrigued, surprised, and cold, the dark-skinned man pushed open the door, stumbling inside. It's vacant but for the barkeep: a beautiful woman with black hair and several piercings in one ear, her skin a shade of gold.

He Felt happy and at peace as the cold wind traveled across his face. His fingers brushed trough the wind, as he spun around. What a beautiful feeling this is. He thought, as strong gushes of wind swirled around, tickling his face. ((I'm not so sure using "gushes" is good but oh well.)) The boy was humming a song, progressing little by little, slowly, but still enough to cover a decent distance. (( I must say, I'm guilty of doing this heheh.)) The landscape changed, turning into a storm of snow. "I like snow and I like wind, but wind and snow... No, that's not a good combination. He mumbled to himself, taking a blue coat out of his leather bag. He put it on and lunged forward, putting his hand in front of him to shield his eyes. After a few steps, his field of view was blessed by an inn and a Man entering. His speed accelerated, and he trembled. His coat hasn't warmed him up enough yet.

Spoiler

Lawrence is a 15 year old boy, 172 centimeters tall. He has really thin arms, thin belly, and normal sized legs. He looks almost like he is undereating. He has hazel eyes, and silky brown hair, short in the front on his forehead and at the sides and a bit longer from behind. He can imagine anything and materialize it using his energy. He can also create illusions and copies of himself, both materialized or not.He can also control it, and while it does look alive, it is actually very brittle, like glass. He wears an enchanted ring with a tiny green ruby attached to it which allows him to use less energy for illusions and materializing, which takes a lot of energy. His appettite depends on how much energy he uses on moving and magic. If he uses too much energy, he passes out. And while materializing illusions takes a lot of energy, creating an illusion takes both willpover and a tiny amount of energy, and so does maintaining it. He can destroy an illusion, dissolving it into energy and taking it, or teleport next to any illusion that he is still maintaining. Unlike any other human, he has 4 additional eyes on his forehead, which he usually conceals. They allow him to see from his illusions perspective, if they have eyes, and the illusion maximum is 4 at a time. On his wrist, words for a spell are written. The spell for teleporting to his illusion. Due to often exhaustion, he sleeps longer than most people. He doesn't speak much to people he doesn't know, and hates big crowds.

He can hear footsteps outside and he turns, wondering who will enter.

"On the house," the barkeep says, sliding him a large mug of beer.

Lawrence proceeds to move, taking small, slow steps. He opens the door of the inn lazily, eyes on the crowd in front of him. Showing lack of enthusiasm, he takes a deep breath, and awkwardly sits on the first place possible, seeming completely immobile. Only his eyes move, adapting to something new.

((It's empty except for the man and the barkeep))

The large man in the trenchcoat eyes him, then decides he's no danger, politely refusing the beer from the barkeep.

"Barkeeper, do you sell food?"Asks Lawrence, feeling like he could eat a rabbit. He places his eyes on the man in front of the owner, confirming that they are the only ones here except him. (( @FalconerGal9086))

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, but the warmth of his body could only amount to so much as the snowflakes danced across her bare skin. How long had they been walking through this mysterious wilderness? She couldn't remember. Her mind was too occupied with the cold to even try recalling how many minutes had been lost.

"Charlotte," he whispered, his teeth chattering as he pointed a shivering finger at a shape in the distance. "I think there's a building there."

She squinted. He was right; there was a building, its windows bright with lights and the possibility of warmth. They exchanged a single glance before rushing towards it. She somehow beat him to the door, but she held it open for him as he darted inside.

When they entered, they saw that they weren't alone. He ducked his head down and fumbled for his sunglasses. Once he slid them on, he looked around the room. The barkeep, man and boy all were too engaged in their conversation to notice their arrival.

They make their way up to the barkeep. "Hello," Charlotte said. Like usual, he stood silently behind her. "Do you have any warm drinks we could buy?"

Spoiler

Hello! This looks like a fun roleplay, and I've been wanting to test out these two characters. Meet Charlotte Hart and Herobrine - they're from my newest fanfiction. I haven't made a character profile for either one of them yet, so here's their basic descriptions.

Charlotte: Her long, auburn hair is relatively straight and goes down to her chest. She's recently started throwing it into a ponytail. No matter what her hair looks like, she almost always has her red baseball cap on. It has her high school's name on it, but the letters are faded. She's wearing an oversized gray hoodie, jeans and the sneakers she had owned since she had since she was a freshman.

Herobrine: His light brown hair goes down to his shoulders. His skin is tan and his hands are calloused. He wears a blue t-shirt and jeans, both of which perfectly fit his muscular and tall build. When he doesn't have his sunglasses on, his eyes appear to lack pupils and glow white. He comes off as incredibly intimidating.

The barkeep slides them a couple of hot chocolates. "On the house," she says.

The man studies them for a few minutes, assessing them. His gaze is penetrating, but not hostile. After several moments, he seems to decide they aren't a danger - yet - and turns away, going back to his own hot chocolate.

"Excuse me miss! Lawrence waves, seeking attention from the owner. Could you answer my question?"

The woman looks up. "Oh, yes, sorry! We do! What would you like?"

"Anything, but I prefer vegetables and potatoes."Lawrence glanced at the newcomers.

"Sure!" she disappears and comes back out with stew, setting it in front of him. "Warm veggies and potatoes!"

"Thank you!" Lawrence replies politely. He quickly shoves tons of food into his mouth repeatedly, chewing at the speed of light.

"Of course," she smiles.