Beluaterra - An Unlikely Encounter (co-op RP)

[Abstract]

It was just as he remembered it. The sands were fine, a light breeze sending the grains dancing every few hundred feet. Dancer's ship had landed at a small harbor town, currently under it's own rule. He checked his pack for the fifth time, jostling it a bit to check for the cache of scrolls. He was asking for trouble, walking in the territory of the Pretenders without a unit. He had a small sword, inked with a few infernal runes, his pack, now overfilled with summoning scrolls, and his wits. His milky eyes raked across the quay, searching for any signs of trouble. The docks were busy, but not packed. He couldn't see any blue flags, so he must have landed unnoticed from the Pretenders. He slipped through the town, his head down, and his pack clutched close to his side. He had to stay unnoticed, for the consequences of discovery would be steep. Obia'Syela was the one realm he couldn't stand. Those dirty Pretenders honestly thought they could control deamons! He smiled wolfishly to himself, dodging a fruit cart on his way out of town. He'd wipe them from this planet, one way or another. They sat on his land, preaching about magic and some false deity. His lip curled a bit as he thought of the Pretenders. He'd made it out of town, heading down one of the two roads out of town. It must have rained recently; dirt caked his boots almost immediately. He walked with purpose, staring at the ground. He couldn't believe such fools flourished, preaching such foolishness. He'd lead an army down here one day, and clear these stains from this land.

He was deep in thought, internally raging, when he ran smack dab into someone. He looked, up, startled out of his internal discord. Several men, clothed in violet, barred his way.

----

Sunlight poured in through the rocking carriage's open window, each imperfection of the primitive road could be felt. Straining her eyes, Eva carefully tried to decipher the sloppily written letter. Splashes of water could be heard as the wheels rolled through the occasional hole, creating a break in the cacophony of horse hooves and idle chatter by the guards. Softly gliding her fingers through soft crimson hair, Eva cleared her vision of the external distraction. Mouthing the words as the letters became more legible, her concentration on the report increased. Suddenly everything came to a halt, sending the Grandmistress forward, breaking her focus, and raising her intrigue.

Casting her emerald eyes out the window, the countryside became blocked by the side of a massive Paladin covered in violet plate. "Why have we stopped?" she inquired.

"A traveler!" a raspy voice replied.

With raised brow, Eva gleamed up ahead. A host of guards in mail and violet cloth could be seen but not the supposed traveler. Long ago this area had been fully converted, she thought, surely this intruder must be one of the flock. In haste she put on her thin white veil, leaving nothing but the eyes and hair fully visible. With a quick exhale she composed herself and proceeded to slowly exit the carriage.

Eva's ceremonial white robe dropped out onto the muddy road as she started her way towards the commotion. Arguments could be heard but the words were elusive. All went silent as the guards noticed the Grandmistress approaching them, they parted slightly but remained between the unknown man and the royal woman. Eva stopped in her tracks, a short distance in front of the traveler. Patiently she waited for the usual greeting from one of a lesser station.

----

A flash of rage flicked across his face. He reflexively reached for his sword, stopping short before he drew. He'd run into a large plated warrior, steel stained violet. The guard took a step back, drawing his weapon in one motion. "Halt, traveler! Take your hands off your weapon!" Dancer narrowed his eyes, but relented. Several more of the violet guards stood around him, hands resting on a cacophony of weaponry. "I am sorry, warrior of purple. I can't see very well anymore, and I'm afraid you startled me." The first guard didn't sheath his weapon, but he did let it fall to his side. "What do you think you are doing, peasant?" Dancer bristled, but said nothing. "Watch where you are walking! Someone could have been hurt!" Dancer still said nothing, carefully controlling his temper. He mustn't get caught. While the man preceded to give Dancer a tongue lashing about proper travelling etiquette, Dan took stock of his surroundings. He'd made it quite a ways into the forest, the sounds of the city long gone. Several men, covered head to foot in violet livery stood around, most looking tired and bored. An ornate carriage sat in the center of the purple horde, two beautiful black Friesians lashed to the front. A flash of blue, and his heart sank. On the side of the carriage, he could see the heraldry of the Pretenders painted in bold strokes. He'd barely made it on land, and his inattention may have cost him his mission.

At least he had a disguise on, abit a poor one. He had simply thrown on a ragged coat, over his normal loose white shirt and black slacks. While the dirt from the trip would help sell the ruse, he still looked, at the very least, well off. His brown stained pack would help, he figured, at least until someone looked closer, or worse yet, inside of it. Hopefully they wouldn't take away his weapon either. He'd unwisely strapped his ceremonial sword on his hip, rather then his normal one, thinking only of the long walk ahead of him. The blade itself was craved up and down with infernal runes. Thankfully, he'd never been important enough to receive one with a fancier hilt, so unless they unsheathed it, it looked like a normal sword. The guard stopped chattering, falling silent abruptly. Dan looked to the carriage, side door now standing open. The men silently parted, and women in a long white shift was revealed, gracefully walking towards him. A noble then, he thought. She was clearly very young, so he doubted she was anyone of importance. The strange veil was out of place, but he figured it was some fashion statement for the Pretenders. Anger flashed across his face a the thought of the Liars, but he suppressed it quickly. She stopped a short distance away from him. Dancer pondered for a moment. She was smart enough to stand out of his sword range, but not smart enough to have his weapon confiscated. Inexperienced then, but she did have some combat training, whether she realized what she'd done or not.

The cultist begrudgingly tilted his head, wolfish grin crossing his face. "Lady, I am sorry to disturb your travel. I accidentally walked into one of your men. I'm afraid my eyesight has been failing for many a year now."

----

All was quiet after the greeting, no signs of life from the woods could be heard from the muddied road. Eva paid close attention to the traveler, keeping her emotions masked behind the ceremonial veil. His eyes, his smile. They were unsettling, sending a small shiver up Eva's spine.

An experienced guard next to Eva turned to face her, "Your Eminence," his deep voice broke the silence, "it is unsafe, you should return to your carriage and let us handle this."

Eva looked to her right, up into the bare face of the guard, slight wrinkles and grayed hair visible to all. Her hands were intertwined in front of her, hidden inside the arms of the her robe. Gracefully she reached up to place her hand upon his cheek, allowing the long scar across her palm to be seen. "Erick macaan," she reassured, "ha walwelin, Hooyo Quduuska ah ayaa nala socota."

Eva returned to her normal stance allowing Erick to turn back towards the traveler as well. Changing from the religious language and back to the common tongue, Eva addressed the traveler with her heavy Rinesian accent. "What is your name, traveler," she asked, "you are obviously not a commoner, perhaps I have heard of your family."

Eva knew that this was unlikely, the traveler definitely wasn't a peasant but he did look too poor to be a knight. "Most likely some minor noble of little renown," Eva thought. "the clothes are too fine but not the best. His accent is peculiar, not quite southern, yet definitely southern. He is an enigma, a curiosity..." She knew that she should leave, but like a moth to a flame, there was no turning away.

[Abstract]

Eminence? Eminence? This child? Dancer's thoughts raced as as the veiled woman calmed her guard. Who exactly had he run into? His eyes flicked to the veil, understanding dawning on him like a crashing wave. The Margravine had spoke of her, although Dancer had never thought she would be so young. The 'Veiled Bitch'. He turned the situation over in his head. As nice as stabbing her would be, he wasn't likely to succeed, and even less likely to get away. He could simply try to run, but the guards would certainly catch him before long, whether he tripped on a tree root, or they simply outpaced him. Talking his way out of it was the only option.

    "What is your name, traveler," she asked, "you are obviously not a commoner, perhaps I have heard of your family."

Dancer did his best to sound convincing, wolfish grin still plastered across his face, "I am no one of importance, simply a traveler passing through. My friends call me Dan. Tell me, child, who are you?" He mentally chided himself. He just couldn't get past how young she was.

"I am no one of importance," his wolfish grin remained, "simply a traveler passing through. My friends call me Dan. Tell me, child, who are you?"

"Child!?" a fresh-faced guard scoffed, "you disrespectful knave!"

Erick looked back at the gold haired guard, "quiet!"

The scene descended back into tranquility, not a sound or move occurred. Rustling leaves broke the temporary silence, the forest's blanket disturbed by various unseen critters. Gradually sunlight faded behind the cover of thick clouds. Most could sense the relief of the armored guards, who were glad to have a reprieve from the midday heat. Eva, with her thinner vestments, didn't even notice. Instead, her concentration was on this "Dan".

"Child?" Eva thought, "an oblivious foreigner this one, who is he really? Not a member of the flock nor from the area, as I originally thought."

Erick wiped the sweat from his brow, the only movement in this brief wordless moment.

"I am Eva Foote," the silence was broken with her silky voice, "Grand Herald of the Veiled Goddess and Grandmistress of the Sacred Obia'Syela. Tell me, Dan, what deity do you call to in the depth of night?"

His hand had twitched to his weapon again. He'd managed not to draw his weapon, but only just. Once again, he quelled his anger, his smile slipping for only a moment.

    "I am Eva Foote," the silence was broken with her silky voice, "Grand Herald of the Veiled Goddess and Grandmistress of the Sacred Obia'Syela. Tell me, Dan, what deity do you call to in the depth of night?"

He'd expected this, but he still didn't have an answer. By no stretch of the imagination was he going to tell her about the Lords. Not when he was surrounded. Deflection it was then. He tilted his head, inquisitively.

"The Heralds huh? I can't say I've heard much about them, Grand Herald. Who are they? What do they stand for?"

"The Heralds huh?," Dan replied, "I can't say I've heard much about them, Grand Herald. Who are they? What do they stand for?"

Dan avoided the question, a fact not unnoticed by Eva. Suspicion grew but the urge to proselytize was too strong for her to resist.

"The Veiled Goddess, Obeah," she began her monologue, "is the Goddess of magic and the only deity to take an active roll in aiding humanity against daimonic forces. The Holy Mother came to the Oracle, Rania Eastersand JeVondair, and gave her the strength to kill the Archdaimon Akkan in battle during the last invasion. Soon afterwards, in the Holy City of Keffa, the Oracle founded the Heralds of Obeah. We Heralds study magic, mysteries of the world, and spread the grace of the Holy Mother. Through the magical power of prayer, the Veiled Goddess shall be able to finally end the infernal invasions."

Eva paused for a moment before continuing: "but what, you may wonder, is so magical about prayer? The truth is, prayer has no power. The power is within us living beings, our soul as some may call it. How the power is wielded, where that soul is directed, that's what is important. Weakness, wickedness, warps the soul, empowering the ultimate evil which resides within the Netherworld. Vigor, virtuousness, vitalizes the ultimate benevolence, the Veiled Goddess. What you do matters, Dan, which path will you seek?"

[Abstract]

Once again, he struggled to control his temper. Eva was young, too young to have seen the horrors of the last Invasion. Scents of blood and fire came to him, nothing but old memories filling his nostrils. Screams in the darkness, eldritch Lords standing tall, backlit by the fires of burning cities, slaughter on a scale not seen for many years now. Lord Jomorosh, heading his infernal hordes against the armies of Shattered Vales, tearing both soldiers and nobles in twine. Dancer's sword, wet with blood. The smell of burning bodies.

What you do matters, Dan, which path will you seek?"

Snapping out of his memories, Dancer considered his words carefully, grin still plastered across his face.

"The path I seek? Grandmistress, how forward of you." His milky eyes locked on hers, smile unable to keep the chill out of his voice. "You are right, prayer has little to do with the power of the Soul. True power is intrinsic to each and every one of us, and it is our duty in life to wield that power responsibly." He paused before continuing, eyes flickering for a second to the forest edge. "Daishi believers think we are to use our power to assist some greater beings in the sky, helping these armored gods achieve their ends. Mordok believers think they are to use other's power to feed an eldritch being, sating it. Your Heralds put their power in your Veiled Goddess,  standing beside her in the fight against the Netherworld. All of you have massive followings, spanning huge swathes of land. Tell me, Grand Herald, why are you more right then Daishi? Mordok? What makes you think you will be the one to stop the Invasions?"

Eva didn't take her eyes off Dancer as he discussed the different faiths of the land and asked about why one one was superior to the other. Erick, the captain of the Royal Guard, was growing impatient. Before a reply could be given, Erick's chiseled face leaned in to whisper in the Grandmistress' ear. "Your Eminence, something is off with this one, we should take him to the Inquisition and then continue our trip to Jidington."

"You are right Erick," Eva smiled from behind her veil as she spoke loud enough for Dancer to hear, "we are running late as is. My apologies...Dan, but we must take leave." The Grandmistress started her walk back to the carriage.

All the guards drew their weapons and moved towards Dancer. Eva stopped after a few steps in order to turn back towards Dan. "The Veiled Goddess proved Her power by empowering the Oracle during her battle with Akkan in Ete City." Eva called out, "What exactly have the other deities done?"

As the guards drew close to Dancer, activity sprouted in the forest. Leaves crunched and sticks snapped as many feet rampaged across the wooded ground. A guard near the carriage quickly ran to Eva in order to grab her and guide her back to safety.

[Abstract]

"The Veiled Goddess proved Her power by empowering the Oracle during her battle with Akkan in Ete City." Eva called out, "What exactly have the other deities done?"

Dancer could feel his rage manifesting like a coiled dragon at her words. How dare she directly imply her bedtime story was greater then his Lord? The Great Lord Akkan never would have been defeated by some dirty veiled whore. Her guards moved in on him, an unspoken command rippling though the air. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the back of the Grandmistress. So, she was going to have him beaten, or worse, taken into custody. The former, he could handle, the latter however.... well, his excuse for a disguise was only on the surface. Capture would only result in torture, and death. So be it then, he thought, at least he would go down fighting on his home soil. Perhaps the Lords would be merciful, and send him back again. He smiled a sad smile at the thought, and reached for his sword. The thick pad of scars layered across his back pulled on his muscles. Failures didn't receive mercy.

Before he could draw, the forest suddenly burst with movement, a small horde of Undead careening though the trees at the humans. Most of the guards turned to the new threat, only two focusing on Dancer. Dodging the first guard, the cultist attempted to disappear in the forest opposite the rampaging corpses, but the second guard grabbed him by his pack. With a shout, Dancer drew his sword, infernal runes blazing in the sunlight, coming down on the man's helmet with a resounding clang. The man went cross eyed, and dropped to the ground. Dancer didn't even look to see if he'd finished the man off, simply turning tail and melting into the forest edge. It had been years since he had run for his life, and he had been much younger then. The forest flew by him in a blur, his poor eyesight forcing him to approximate every step. After running for over ten minutes, Dancer slowed to a halt, bending over and gasping for air. He threw his pack against a nearby tree, and caught his breath. That had been too close. "Thank Akkan" he mumbled, reaching for his pack. He blinked, staring the large tear running though one of the front pockets. "No," he tore though his pack, hoping it had been in a different pocket, "I don't, I don't have another copy, No...."

---

Sitting in the carriage, Eva remained sheltered from the chaos of battle just outside. After a few minutes the scene became quiet. A guard approached the window and looked at Eva.

"Tha travela has escaped, Your Eminence," disappointment covered the guard's face, "but we fou'd tis book, dropped by tha travela, me thinks."

Eva took the book with interest and dismissed the guard. With interest the Grandmistress opened the book to the first page as the carriage began moving.

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End of the roleplay. It took a long time, and more could have been explored, but I think the basic goal was accomplished.