The Battle for an Age Forgotten

Ranger · 2024-07-19T01:23:18Z

https://i.imgur.com/Z3wGqjL.gif brought to you by @RangerofIthilien In the land of Rudeigin, Kings and Queens rise and fall, ushering in new eras and cycling between tyranny and peace. King Nathair has ruled the gorgeous, prosperous land for ages now, unchanging and unmoved, his selfish deeds and policies slowly spoiling it's beauty. Fate itself has appeared stagnant in the hands of destiny. After a rebellion broke out and charged the keep in Cagailt, everyone thought things would finally change. However, the attempt failed and things returned to how it had been for many years, lethargic and stifling. Nothing changed. Or so everyone thought... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nearly half a century later, a faint glow has been perpetually shining from the peak of Mount Anam with no explanation as to why. Some say it is a sheet of snow and ice that simply hasn't melted while others, who are often not believed, say it's magic. But whatever it is begins to glow brighter with each passing day, and that, no one can ignore. Not even the scholars who blame it on the shifting of the suns' positions as the path to the top of the mountain is too dangerous now to properly investigate. Things are changing once more in the land of Rudeigin. Everyone can feel it. From the way the winds have lessened and the stillness on the surface of ponds, the world seems as if to be holding its breath. Rudeigin Once upon a time, there was a rich and plentiful land, a small continent long ago broken off from the rest of the world. Only a voyage by boat could access this land which it's inhabitants called Rudeigin. The land prospered for centuries under the rule and influence of families in different regions, families who had staked their claim and had lived there almost as long as the land was old. Each family respected the other and Rudeigin was at peace for hundreds of years. That is, until the Redbanes rose from the ashes of an almost dead family line. They had been forgotten of as for many years their line of descendants had been nothing but daughters until one day a son, Adranus, was born. He was kept secret from the world, taught to be powerful and terrible and told Rudeigin was his for the taking. Rudeigin: Adranus' Reign Years later, on the first red dawn of Autumn, Adranus was released upon the world. He had gathered a force of warriors, bound to him through oath, and forced his claim upon Rudeigin. Any who did not submit learned to fear his wrath and greed, fueled by the promise of power. Farms were razed to the ground and cities set up in flames as Adranus took each and every part of the land for his own, not stopping until he had wiped every other ancient family out of existence. From there, he enslaved the citizens to work for him, and they had no choice as he had taken all of their food for the coming winter. Years upon years, he ruled Rudeigin with an iron fist, showing no mercy to its citizens. Even children were forced to work simply to satisfy his mounting greed. He had the land but now he wanted even more. He wanted to live better then a king; he wanted to live like a god. Rudeigin: Kaladin's Reign However, this story isn't about Abranus, King of Rudeigin. No, this story is about a child. A boy lived in Adranus' castle, the child of a servant, Kaladin. He watched as Adranus' sons played and grew, just like himself. They were kept separate, no matter how they seemed the same. Once Kaladin was older, he tried to speak to them but was quickly caught and after that, ripped from his home and sent to work in the mines to the south. This was one of the worst fates he could have faced as the mines were unforgiving with the dry atmosphere and hard labor, the land around completely desertified from the industry. Years he worked in the mines as punishment, living off of meager meals and hard work, but it made him strong and resilient. He met others of similar origin there; those who had made meager attempts at rebellion or understanding and had been sent to live the same fate. He befriended them and acted as their leader, taking punishment for them and training with them in secret so that when they got out, they could combat the injustice they had suffered. They formed unbreakable bonds together and once the time was right, made their escape. He led them on the run for years, strengthening them and collecting weapons and supplies, waiting, plotting, planning. In this time, several more comrades had joined until there were twelve all together, all loyal to each other to a fault. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A red dawn appeared once more on the autumn day that marked the anniversary of Adranus' kingship. One that would bring his reign to an end. The twelve, with Kaladin leading the way, marched to Adranus' castle gates. Not a single guard made a move to stop them, recognizing the bright eyed boy now fire hardened from challenge after challenge. Upon his demand, the guards even opened the gates, allowing them to pass into the castle grounds where they were met by Adranus' warriors of oath; formidable opponents no matter how much time had aged them. A long battle ensured and even though Adranus' warriors were strong, they did not have their leader. They were disorganized and unprepared meanwhile Kaladin knew exactly what he was doing. This is what he had trained and what he had trained his comrades for. They moved as in tandem, knowing exactly what the others would do and even though there were quite a few wounds and close calls, luckily nothing was fatal. The warriors of oath were defeated and the twelve moved deeper into the castle in search of Adranus and his sons. Seeing what had happened, the guard had abandoned their posts, leaving Adranus' three sons to be the only thing between him and the twelve warriors out for justice. Heartbroken by what they knew had to happen, the sons dropped their weapons, knowing well that they were outnumbered and that they had lost. Even though the sons had always had everything they could ever want, as they grew older, they knew where it came from and why. Their father had kept them sheltered inside the castle in an attempt to make them like him but they had found out anyway. In the end, the sons turned on their father and let Kaladin, alone, into his chambers. Fate teetered on the edge of a knife in the suspenseful moments of silence on the other side of the door. Soon enough, Kaladin emerged once more. The deed had been done and Adranus' reign was ended once and for all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Over the years, from the ashes of Adranus' reign, Rudeigin was slowly rebuilt. The citizens were released from their bonds and the twelve were seen as great heroes as they traveled from place to place, repairing the damage that had been done. Between them, they split the land into six pieces, two of them going to watch over each part. Kaladin took the center with the help of his best friend Lonán, however, instead of making the Keep theirs to live in and a place to rule from, they turned it into a chancery, a place for the twelve to meet in times of need and a base of operations. The city around quickly turned into a bustling metropolis and the land was plentiful and peaceful once more under the twelve's protection. Rudeigin: Nathair's Reign and Current Situation Like all things though, the era of heroes eventually came to an end. Old age wore on the heroes until there were eventually none left and all were laid to rest in a grand tomb at the top of the highest peak, where their spirits could continue to watch over the land. As soon as they were gone though, the corruption began once more, this time with a new power-hungry tyrant, Nathair. Unlike Adranus though, he did not take the world by force; he took it quietly, without turmoil or disturbance. Like a thief in the night. He could twist his words and manipulate like no other, using this to gain traction and footing in high places until he reached a place in the Court of Rudeigin, a group that had been founded to lead the land after the heroes passed. With his silver tongue, he eventually convinced the Court they needed a true ruler and placed himself in that position, becoming the new king of Rudeigin. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Under Nathair's rule, the land slowly began to suffer once more. Poverty struck many of the once flourishing towns and cities to fuel Nathair's selfish goals. With his rule, he placed trusted individuals in places of power, knowing they would follow his directions to the letter. He gave them just enough for them to live comfortably as long as he got what he wanted but not enough for them to take good care of the people. As things got harder, Nathair feared revolution so he tore down the now ancient golden statues of the heroes to smother any ideas and melted them down into bars of gold to pay debts across seas. Or so he said... Things got easier for the people from then on, but only for a period of time, just long enough for the people to forget about Nathair's crimes, and then it got hard again. And so this cycle continued, one crime after another as Nathair sought to destroy the past. The people living hard lives with short periods of ease yet still struggling, unless they were part of Nathair's circle. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Soon enough, a small group of rebels formed and tried to overthrow Nathair. But they failed. When they arrived at the castle with fire in their hearts, the guards let them in, just like they had the heroes of old. However this time, they turned on them and the planned revolution turned into a one sided massacre. Only a single rebel managed to escape, and in a desperate last attempt to remove Nathair from power, she alone secretly climbed to the top of the tallest peak in the land and completed a ritual in the hopes to call the spirits of the heroes back to the land of the living before succumbing to her wounds. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nathiar, with his silver tongue, wove his words to put the rebellion in a violent, criminal light, portraying them as villians and enemies of the people. He once again made life a easier for the citizens of the land and so the incident was forgotten of. He continues to live an already unnaturally long life and it was forgotten just how long he had ruled for, twisting the land and people to his will just alike his words. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The brave rebel however, did not die in vain. At the peak of the mountain, the ritual worked, calling the spirits of the heroes back. Now, it is up to you to carry on their legacy. Character Template [b]Name:[/b] [b]Age (18-30):[/b] [b]Gender/Pronouns:[/b] [b]Spirit:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]Personality:[/b] [b]Backstory:[/b] [b]Location of Origin:[/b] [b]Magic User? (Y/N)[/b] [b]Shipping (Y/N) /Sexuality:[/b] [b]Other:[/b] Magic user slots: 2/2 https://i.imgur.com/I0nGCXt.png Cast Kaladin the Leader Spirit - @RangerofIthilien Lonán the Loyal Spirit - @JazzicusMaximus Varen the Practical Spirit - @JazzicusMaximus Thalor the Brave Spirit - @Valkyria Sarkan the Cold Spirit - @WeepingWisteria Roland the Diplomatic Spirit - @RavenAkuma Ianthe the Gentle Spirit - @Spearmint Bathildis the Ruthless Spirit - @soundofmind Scylla the Cunning Spirit - @WeepingWisteria Aleta the Honest Spirit - @RangerofIthilien Myrna the Bold Spirit - @RangerofIthilien Taryn the Adventurous Spirit - @soundofmind ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ https://imgur.com/PDNeysn.jpeg Over the past week or so you've been hearing whispers, soft voices in your ears. Sometimes they are gentle, other times it almost sounds as if they're bickering back and forth. But whenever you turn around, there's no one there and the voices are gone. However, they always come back at night when everything is silent. As soon as the clock strikes three in the morning, the voices get louder, loud enough where you can almost make out the words... One day, the voices are gone entirely, which was a little odd as you had almost gotten used to them. Whether you happened to notice it or not, the faint glow that had been atop Mount Aman for the past few decades was gone as well... That is anyway, until three in the morning. It was the first peaceful, undisturbed night you had had in days and you were fast asleep like most are at that time. The wind picks up, coming oddly enough not from the north like usual as the minutes tick by until the hour arrives. That's when the light explodes from the top of Mount Aman, sending a beam of glowing white to the sky. The phenomena lasted only moments but it was long enough to wake you up from your slumber and look to the mountain in startled awe. After it was gone, everything was dark and silent again, the wind from before calming. A wave of memories washed through your mind as soon as the light disappeared, however, none of them were yours. Images of places you had never been to and people you had never met flooded your vision before a quiet and familiar voice spoke, just one this time, and the visions cleared. This time the voice was crystal clear and you could hear every word, as if the person who spoke stood right beside you. I've had my eyes on you for quiet some time but worry not, I mean you no harm. You show promise and have what it takes to be a hero. It's time for you to carry on my legacy. You must not fail...

Spearmint

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Tue Jan 28, 2025 5:33 am

Spearmint says... · Tue Jan 28, 2025 5:33 am

How long had it been since Coz had last left his pottery shop? Years, certainly. It was... strange to be in the open air for hours a day, traveling with Erpic and his mother in the cart. He missed the slightly sweet, warm scent of his workshop. But Coz had to admit that the breeze was refreshing.

What was even more refreshing was the voice in his head wasn't nagging anymore. Was that the strategy? To just do whatever the spirit--Ianthe--said? But then that meant somehow, what, overthrowing King Nathair? That was madness. And while Coz might be enjoying the current peace of having his head to himself, he was in no way convinced to follow through. He'd get to Aiteach, meet the others, convince Ianthe that he really wasn't the person for the job, maybe get a few customers for his pottery shop, and go back home.

Cozamel silenced the part of him that wilted at the thought of giving this opportunity up. He'd let that part control him before-- giving food to beggars, lending money to his siblings and friends, doing all the good he could do. And each good deed had backfired.

He ignored that same part that squirmed at the lies.

"So," Coz said under his breath. "You mentioned an inn?"

Ianthe responded immediately. "Yes! The Good Knight's Rest. There's a sign with a knight wearing a helmet decorated with a silver moon."

Well, at least Coz could appreciate the pun. If he were the same person as years ago, he might have chuckled.

Instead, he grunted and turned back to watching the landscape pass by.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days to get to Aiteach. On the last day, they'd decided to travel through the night as they had been close enough to make it in a few hours. Coz bid farewell to the family, then walked the rest of the distance to his destination.

It was the middle of the night. He didn't see any knights, but he did see a soldier gruffly questioning people on the street. Seemed like trouble. Coz hid behind his long, dark hair and hurried past.

A few streets later, Coz saw the sign, loudly announcing the presence of the inn. There was another loud presence in his head: Ianthe exclaimed, "They're already here!" Coz winced. Was it too late to find a specialist in mental issues?

Light spilled out of the door of the Good Knight's Rest. He immediately imagined a pattern mimicking that bright stripe on a piece of pottery. Caught up in his designs as he was, Coz only spotted the two figures entering the inn when he was a few paces away.

mint, she/her

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soundofmind

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Sun Feb 16, 2025 5:16 am

soundofmind says... · Sun Feb 16, 2025 5:16 am

Among the patchwork group forming, Killian felt like a minority in more ways than one.

He was older than the others. Not by leaps and bounds, but there was a world of change that happened between 18 and 28 -- ten years' worth of experience and growth most of these men and women lacked, no matter how willing they were to throw themselves headlong into adventure.

He was also the only one with children. Killian learned very quickly that the only other person with pressing family obligations was Annaliese. She had a fiance, but everyone else in their party was single, independent, orphaned, or estranged. Soon after her, they were joined by a man named Cozamel, who fit the bill of another lone wolf plucked from the ash heap.

Cruelty took many forms. Most saw it in Nathair's reign, but Killian saw it in this: the spirit's selections capitalized primarily on the vulnerable. The strong and the young had the most potential but were also the most easily influenced and disposed of. It would be one thing, to call an old man out to war. There was less to lose and more to gain. But as more and more young faces gathered around him, all he could think was this: they have the whole of their lives ahead of them. And you brought them here for this.

To start a revolution for dead men and women.

The thing was, Killian had already considered this ten times over, by now. He'd had many hours of travel to consider all of the implications; the stakes, the cost, the meaning of all of this, and what was being demanded of him. He knew that Nathair's regime was evil and oppressive, but what he couldn't come to terms with was the pointless power struggle of it all.

This was just history. Over, and over, just and evil men would steal each other's crowns. It was the common thread through all generations and one he didn't want any part in. All he'd ever wanted was to live a quiet life, work with his hands, and take care of his son.

He'd made peace with the fact that his desires had to buckle to the bigger picture. But that didn't mean he liked it.

Killian had been listening quietly as Hori and Ren dominated the conversation amongst the possessed. While they were rattling off about their trip to the inn, Killian's eyes were locked on the entrances and exits, waiting for Valeska and the Lopen's return.

It was taking a lot longer than it should've.

Killian noted the stir in the streets. Patrons inside the inn grew antsy when they heard whispers of a soldier. Killian ducked his head low, hoping the soldier kept outside of the inn for their sakes. If Valeska and the Lopen were running around, they were likely to get into trouble.

"We should move this upstairs," Killian murmured.

Ren's run-on sentence stuttered as he heard Killian much later than he stopped speaking.

"What?" Ren asked.

"We should move upstairs," Killian said again, refusing to raise his voice.

Other patrons didn't need to know their plans. But they needed to get out of sight. A group as diverse and conspicuous as theirs was only asking to get attention if the soldier poked his head in.

"Shouldn't we wait for uh, the Lopen and V-- oh, what was her name again?" Ren asked.

"Valeska, I believe." Hori replied, tapping on the side of his face a little. "We can use my room for now, and maybe one of us can wait down here for when they get back?"

"I'll wait," Killian said. He still wasn't sure he trusted any of them yet. Not for anything personal: but the lack thereof. They were all strangers to each other.

"Is your room big enough for eight people?" Ren asked Hori. "Or five, even."

"Yes, it's roomy enough," He paused. "No pun intended."

But of course that made Ren laugh - which was fine. It was well enough to have good humor, but there was something alarming about how naively indifferent Ren seemed to the very present danger outside the inn, and even what it posed to his newfound "friends." Killian tilted his head to Hori.

"I'll meet you up there when they return. What number is your room?" Killian asked.

"13. It's at the end of the hall."

Killian only nodded. Ren and Hori were quick to their feet and led the way, and Annaliese, Aris, and Cozamel followed. The latter two hung at the back, and Killian overhead Aris mumbled to the other: "I'm still not convinced we're all not just crazy."

Cozamel let out a faint, relieved huff. "And I thought I was the only one."

Any further comments shared in confidence fell under the blanket of soft noise the eating area provided. Though it had quieted down a significant amount since the soldier's shouting outside, it was starting to pick up again now that he'd disappeared further down the street for now. Killian could still see wary eyes darting to the windows just in case, and his own was no exception.

As Ren led the other four upstairs, Killian stayed seated at the corner of the dining area with his arms folded over his chest. The bowls and plates had already been picked clean of food, and nothing was left to eat during the wait time. Killian found himself growing anxious as the minutes stretched out, each one longer than the last.

"You are worried for them," Bathildis whispered in the back of his mind.

They're just kids, he replied.

"Would you rather we ask more mothers and fathers to leave their children?" Bathildis asked - her tone both knowing and cutting.

Of course, she'd been an observer of his own thoughts. It was just like her, then, to take his opinions and sharpen them like a knife to use against him.

I see why they called you Bathildis the Ruthless, he responded cooly.

And to that, she had no reply. All he felt in the absence of her voice was a cold determination and pride: one he knew was not his own.

Good-humored laughter erupted from a group at the end of the room, and the servers were back on their feet, weaving through tables. It was bustling, again.

It was then that, finally, two familiar heads ducked low through the side door to the inn. There: Valeska's pale flaxen braid and the Lopen's dusty yellow ponytail.

Killian lifted his head and caught Valeska's eyes when she darted to search for their group. He saw the flash of confusion cross her face to only see him and not the others, but she was quick to lead The Lopen back to their table.

"Where did everyone go?" Valeska asked, the confusion still clear on her face and almost what sounded like worry in her voice, but maybe that was Kaladin's influence. "They didn't leave, did they?"

"Upstairs," Killian said. "To room 13. Hori rented it for the night. It provides more privacy."

Valeska nodded, visibly relieved. "Oh, okay, good."

"We should join them," Killian said, rising to his feet. His eyes flicked to the doors.

The soldier hadn't circled back yet, but Killian knew he would eventually. They needed to move before then.

"Good idea," Valeska replied quickly, making sure The Lopen was following still. By her mannerisms, it made it rather obvious that it had indeed been she and The Lopen that had caused the commotion outside with the soldier.

The Lopen was still there, hunched with one hand in a pocket. He kept glancing towards the door.

That confirmed what Killian already suspected, and provided an even better reason to keep their heads low. He waved for the two of them to follow, and led them out of the dining area, through the small lobby, and up the wide staircase. The wooden stairs creaked slightly under their feet as a testament to the inn's resilience: it was well-established in Aiteach, long enough for the spirits to know of it despite their passing.

Room 13 was as the end of the hall across from 14, where both visibly stretched a longer length of the wall than the others. It quickly became evident that Hori hadn't reserved the room for himself: it was with everyone in mind.

While it was generous and considerate, Killian couldn't help but wonder how much money Hori had to spend, and if he was always so frivilous with it. But that was a conversation for another time.

Killian knocked on the door first and took a step back. Inside the room, Killian could overhear the murmurings come to a halt as someone approached the door.

The door cracked open, and once the singular hazel eye landed on Killian with their two now-found members he opened the door enough for them to come in. Relief filled his face. "Glad you could join us!"

Killian walked in first, and Hori closed the door after Valeska and the Lopen stepped in.

The room was spacious but simple. A Good Knight's Rest had a reputation of being reliable, but not lavish. Four single beds graced the left side of the room, lined up against the wall. On the right was a low table sat over a large, straw carpet, and a tea set was in the middle with a steaming kettle. Everyone was seated around the table at present and had moved their travel gear and packs to lean against the outer walls.

Killian shrugged his own pack off and added it to the growing pile, relieved to lose its weight after a long day.

Hori returned to his spot at the table, sitting as nicely as he could at the low table.

Valeska set her things quickly beside his before taking a deep breath. She looked a little nervous with so many new faces around, some she hadn't even spoken to yet but stepped over towards the table. "Okay, everyone. Some of you might not have met me yet but I'm Valeska. Kaladin brought me here and I'm sure you know a little bit about what's going on from what your spirits have told you."

She paused and shifted her weight slightly to the other foot, seeming distracted for a moment as Kaladin whispered something to her that wasn't clear enough for anyone else to make out.

When he was done, she spoke again. "So- anyway- Kaladin has a plan..."

Killian turned to give her his full attention.

"As the rest of you know," Kaladin began, "Myrna and Aleta weren't there when we awoke. I don't know where they are. None of us do. But we need to try and find them. Your champions might have insight on where they might be but so far, mine doesn't have much. They also might know details about the current tyrant who is destroying everything we stood for but we need to know more. What information we got when we woke isn't enough to even begin planning and this group isn't going to be enough. We need contacts. And our best bet is to find Myrna and Aleta. If they weren't in the tomb, that means they're somewhere else and they've been around just as we are for as long as we all have been dead."

Valeska blinked. That message was clearly not at all what she had expected. It wasn't what anyone had expected really.

"Are you seriously suggesting they're still alive?" Bathildis spat.

"I highly doubt they'd still be alive. Not even the healthiest human could survive that long, and we all know how reckless Myrna could be at times." One could imagine a scowl on Varen's nonexistent face.

Kaladin groaned. "No, obviously they're not still alive. They more than likely are spirits right now just like we are."

"Do we have any leads?" Killian interjected.

"I was hoping those of you who haven't been dead for ages would know their whereabouts." Kaladin responded with a hint of sass or maybe exasperation, it was hard to tell.

"I doubt that kind of news would reach everyone in the lands. We could see if we could find anything in the lands they ruled, however." Hori replied after a few seconds.

"Wait," Ren interjected. "Does this have anything to do with those cultists?"

All eyes whipped to Ren.

"What cultists?" Valeska asked, blinking.

"You guys don't know about the cultists?" Ren asked just as blankly.

"...No?" Valeska replied, visibly confused.

"Ooooh?" Hori asked leaning towards Ren a little, visibly fascinated.

"If you have information, share." Kaladin said sternly. "We all need to know if we're going to get anywhere."

"People are saying there's a not-so-secret cult in aiteach dedicated to Myrna and Aleta," Ren said with his hands up. "The cultists are basically worshipping them like gods -- which, is kind of weird, since you all seem like pretty normal people to me, aside from the fact that you are able to live in our heads and still talk even though you're dead."

"That is beside the fact. We need to know how to get to them and talk with them not repeat what we already know right now. Obviously we're dead and in your head. Get to the point and stop beating around the bush." Kaladin snapped.

"Oh, sorry," Ren said. "I guess Myrna and Aleta are helping people and providing hope to Aiteach. Did you know they have their own plan to overthrow Nathair? I guess Myrna and Aleta got to it before you guys because these cultists are really intense about it. The sad thing is I think Nathair has been cracking down so he can hunt them and take them out. I don't think anyone knows where the remaining cultists are now -- they've embraced secrecy. It's been a few months since I've heard anything new about them. They're probably in hiding now, and from what I understand, there's no way to find them unless they find you first."

"How do we get their attention then?" Valeska asked.

Ren shrugged. "Make a scene, maybe?"

"We want specific attention, not just any attention," Killian reminded them.

"Well, how public can we go with all of this, then? Do you think if one of the cultists knew you all were in our heads they'd come to our door?" Ren asked.

"I know if you go telling everyone we're in your heads you'd likely get them cut off." Kaladin stated firmly.

That resulted in a few seconds of harrowing silence.

"Okay," Ren said. "So we don't do that."

"This is all beginning to sound really dangerous," Cozamel muttered.

"Would it be possible to leave, like, a bunny trail?" Annaliese suggested.

"What, should we leave out bread crumbs that lead to our door?" Aris scoffed.

"I just don't know what would be enough to get their attention," Annaliese said, frowning.

"Wouldn't cultists meet somewhere? Kind of like what we're doing right now, in a room, or maybe in a forest?" Hori threw his question in.

"A forest would be a good place to hide..." Valeska chimed in. "I've had to do so before. It's really convenient actually."

"There's a forest in the south of Aiteach," Ren said. "The one with the lake, yeah?"

Hori nodded. "Yeah, there is. I think I saw it on a map."

He got up and walked over to his luggage. He removed a few books and pulled out a tube, which he carried back to the table. The map was neatly rolled up inside and had not a single crease. He laid it out and used a few people's cups to keep the map from curling back up.

The Lopen curiously looked over from where he stood, not participating in the group's discussions. Aris got to her feet and folded her arms, looking down at the map from above. Killian drew nearer to look over everyone's heads.

"There," Ren pointed at the lake at the bottom of the map, at the base of the mountains that carried over out of Salachar.

"So this is our best lead," Killian murmured. "Go to the lake and look for cultists."

"No, they find us!" Ren corrected.

Killian sighed.

Kaladin groaned "We're not just traveling to some random lake and forest without an actual lead. All we have- All this- These are just guesses! We need to find someone who can actually confirm that they're there first before we waste our time."

"It's more than nothing." Hori shrugged.

"Who can we possibly confirm this with outside of Ren?" Killian asked. "No one else here is from Aiteach."

"I'm not from Aiteach," Ren corrected. "I just travel a lot."

"It's probably not a good idea to run around asking the townsfolk about cultists in the woods," Annaliese murmured.

"Yeah, that'd go over well," Aris said with an eye roll.

"We don't ask them about any cultist, we go looking ourselves." Hori shrugged, and sipped his own cup of tea, using his hand to hold down his corner of the map while doing so.

Valeska was quiet, looking conflicted. Killian watched her and raised a brow.

"What are your reservations?" he asked.

Valeska bit her lip. "There are good points on both sides."

"Thank you." Kaladin cut in, causing Valeska to frown.

"We don't really have much of a choice but maybe we could do both." She continued. "Everyone has traveled a while. Maybe we should just rest for a day and see if we can get any information before heading out the next day. Ren said they were worshipped like gods too so maybe people here would give each other Myrna and..."

"Aleta," Killian offered.

Valeska smiled a little. "Yeah, Aleta. Maybe people would give each other their blessings here? If we hear someone say something like that maybe we could discreetly ask them if they could tell us more about them?"

"That's a good idea," Annaliese said with a small smile.

"I can manage casual conversations," Ren volunteered.

"So can I!" Hori inputted, raising a hand.

Valeska nodded and stepped closer to the table, looking a little bolder now. "So it's decided then? Does anyone have any objections, living or dead?"

Aris folded her arms but didn't say anything. The Lopen was likewise but with a scowl. Cozamel looked like his objections were less about the current objective, and instead about the objective as a whole. If anyone else shared in that hesitancy - which Killian, in honesty shared - they decided to save if for a later time, after they'd all had a chance to rest.

They'd all come this way, after all. It made little sense not to follow through. Finding this cult... well, maybe they'd find more help, so it wasn't just the eight of them facing this alone.

They could start there.

"That sounds like a good plan, Valeska," Killian said. "I'm with you."

And if he'd ever had any doubts about the power of his words, he saw that in that one moment, his affirmation shifted the tone of the whole room.

He'd acknowledged and addressed Valeska as their leader. Now, the whole room was looking at her like she was one.

With his words, Valeska stood a little taller than before and looked much more confident. "It's decided then. We'll spend tomorrow here in town then depart the next day for the forest or wherever any other leads take us once we meet back here next evening. We start in the morning; Everyone has had a long enough day and travel can be tiring. It would be best to rest so that we can make the most out of tomorrow."

"Finally," Aris said. "I'm exhausted."

"I could use a good nap," Ren said, flopping on the floor. "Who's getting the beds?"

"I'm getting my own room," Killian said, picking up his bag.

If this conversation was over, he needed space to think.

"I'll be on the floor." Hori rolled up the map and returned it to its tube and spot in his luggage. When he turned to look at everyone, he noticed the window had not been fully shut, and they were one member short.

The Lopen had made his exit, and Killian was already at the door before he could hear everyone else's arrangements for the night. With a brief glance back at the others, he waved them good night.

Valeska smiled and waved back to him. "Goodnight, sleep well."

"You as well."

When the door shut behind him, Killian sighed.

He needed to find a way to send word back home.

This was going to take longer than he thought.

Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

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Sun Feb 16, 2025 10:16 pm

Ranger says... · Sun Feb 16, 2025 10:16 pm

With our heroes sound asleep, the night passed quietly; Not a flutter of a doves wings to disturb the calm in the darkness. Everyone needed their rest, the spirits included.

The streets were silent and empty, the soldier from before having put aside his search for the two troublemaking individuals from before. Even the taverns were now empty of their usual nightly crowds who had retired to whatever they chose to call their bed after several mugs of ale.

As if a spell was cast over Aiteach, the land slept soundly.

However, this sleep did not last forever as the sun soon rose, gently shedding warmth to all underneath its glory. A bright dawn appeared with a gently breeze, ushering those with business on their way and inspiring their movement.

Travelers awoke with the light and set out upon their journies while those who remained got up to busy themselves with their work. The Inn, A Good Knight's Rest, had begun bustling with activity once more as early risers found their way downstairs for a cup of coffee and whatever else they could afford as the welcoming light shone in through the windows and candles that had burnt low through the night were blown out.

It was a slow morning, a calm morning, one that brought peace.

Such peace was odd to know in such a pressing time but alongside it there was hope and a fiery promise of fortune to those that should seek it.

It was almost as if the two sisters, Myrna the Bold and Aleta the Honest themselves had brought the dawn, beckoning to be found.

Not all who wander are lost; some are just looking for their arrows.

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