Chapter One: The Joining

[Pamela]

Posted by: eocine Dec 21 2003, 02:17 PM

It all begins here...

[Pamela]

Posted by: eocine Dec 21 2003, 02:18 PM

A thin plume of grey blue smoke floated upwards, striking against the pure white steam, into which it eventually dissipated.

A contented sigh left the Half-Elf’s lips and he sank further back into the steaming and scented water, allowing the hand holding the cigar to loll over the porcelain side of the bath as he closed his eyes and smiled.

He’d had precious little to smile about in the past while all things considered, what with the trouble over his latest case, but a good run on the gaming tables had certainly done wonders for him last night. He raised the cigar to his lips once more, and took a good puff on it, then allowed the ash to fall over the side, where it hissed in some spilled water for a second, then was silent, allowing the detective the pleasure of silence once more…

For some time longer he sat still in the bath, until the water had begun to chill, and he finally rose to his feet, reaching for the white and fluffy towel that hung over the heated rack on the wall. He raised it to his face and held it there, as he walked blindly to the mirror, then used the towel to wipe the condensation from it.

He was a slender man, not rake thin, but not overly muscular. His hair was longish and wavy, and was currently dripping water down his back, something he remedied by vigorously towelling his hair, then inspecting his face in the mirror.

He smiled at his reflection, rubbing fingertips under his eyes. Pietro my friend… He thought to himself. You’re burning the candle at both ends, and the middle too…As he thought this a grin crossed his face once more, and he reached for a comb, raking it through his hair, before he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to his bedroom.

Once there he dressed quickly, his twin pistols holstered under the tails of his immaculately tailored jacket, before he finally added his sword belt, with his thin rapier to his waist and pulled on a heavy greatcoat. This done, he walked into his drawing room, and straight to the drinks cabinet…

The key turned easily, as it had done so many times before, and he reached inside drawing out a bottle of excellent single malt. He span the top off of it with practiced ease, and poured himself a generous double measure, that he drank as he made his way to the door.

Setting the empty glass down with his left hand, as his right reached for the door handle.

As the door swung open, a gust of cold air swirled into the room, and the half elf reached down to pick up his case, and stepped quickly out into the clear but brisk morning. His metallic heels make a sharp clicking noise as he strode down the stone steps of his home, stopping to swing open the wrought iron gate, and running his fingertips over one of the jutting spikes, before striding off into the misted morning in Ravenloft…

[Pamela]

Posted by: Castamir Dec 21 2003, 04:30 PM

Francis walked out of the hostel building, his head thumping with the after effects of the rum he had quaffed the night before.

Damn puritans! If they had told me from the start that they didn't allow ladies back to their rented rooms I'd have.. I'd have found somewhere else to stay! Damn expensive wench too, but well worth the gold - as long as that itching isn't anything to worry about...

Squinting at the street in front of him he shifted the balance of the pack he had over his shoulder, heavy with the weight of the scale mail he had stashed in there. He remembered the queer looks he had gotten wandering into town wearing it, and had a natural dislike of drawing attention - unless of course it was female attention - so he had decided to only wear it when the occasion called for it. Likewise his trusty crossbow was also discreetly dismantled and stashed in the bag, leaving him armed only with his rapier, and his wits.

Pulling his greatcoat around him to fend off the cold, Francis tried to decide what to do next. He needed a source of income that was clear, and he needed to know more about where he was - he had learned by now to stop asking for directions to Amn as people were starting to look at him like he was mad - and he still had no clue how he got here.

He decided to head towards the port again, in the vaguest hope that there would be a ship with a crew who hailed from somewhere he recognised, and failing that perhaps the chance of some work..

[Pamela]

Posted by: El Diablo Dec 21 2003, 05:33 PM

Klen woke up on hard rocks he had heated last night, now cold of course. It had been a good night, for he hadn't been plagued by dreams for a change. He rose from the ground, dusted himself off and examined where he was in daylight. He was on the outskirts of a city the walls some 100 meters up ahead, the gate and the main road into the city about 200 to his left. I have seen this place - the dream two nights ago, maybe before that, I'm not sure, there are too many. I wonder what this place has to do with my destiny. He nodded toward himself. "A question to find an answer to soon but not at the moment. First I must find something to eat." He then set off in the direction away from the city to find or catch his breakfast in his usual morning routine.

[Pamela]

Posted by: Pamela Dec 21 2003, 06:49 PM

As Molly slipped her helm into the crook of her left arm, a sigh escaped her lips. She loved her armour, but lately she felt like a museum exhibit whenever she put it on. Her memory drifted back to days of battle, and she smiled, remembering the satisfying ring of metal which told her that she’d survived another blow. Now, the most she worried about were thrown bricks and stones. Not that they weren’t deadly of course… just…

Boring, she let herself think, as she strode purposefully and noisily down the halls, amid the stares and giggles- and wailing and wet trails of the very young and frightened. Bloody young streaks of piss, she thought, careful about where she took her next steps. She saw them day in and day out, and still…. Some people, she thought.

Outside, under the portico, the lanky paladin waited for the carriage to the latest conference of her compatriots. She was rather looking forward to the debate on guns; she herself thought they were long overdue in accepting them. Her right hand reached to her quiver, caressing the case, as she imagined the debate that would follow. They needed something to fight about, something they could be capable of dealing with. Rumours about dopplegangers in the sewers had begun to arise, and there was talk of sending a band down to investigate. Molly planned to volunteer.

As the young woman looked out at the descent of another grey evening, her eyes roved over the vegetable gardens that made up the Home’s grounds. Her stomach rumbled, and she thought hungrily of the banquet that would come. The smell of apples rose in the wind and she looked out at the nearby tree. The fruit were small - there was never enough sun anymore, not since…Her mind turned from the thought automatically, unconsciously, as she looked at the branches within reach…There…

Molly stepped out of the shelter, and approaching the tree, plucked the cox apple. She held it close to her face, smelling the fresh crisp scent, smiling. She then heard the carriage upon the gravel path, and swearing, “Damn,” thrust the apple into her purse before turning to race up the steps once more. Supper soon, she reminded herself…

[Pamela]

Posted by: eocine Dec 22 2003, 05:18 AM

As you move forwards, the air seems to become colder and damper, and you feel a deep chill suffusing your very bones…as you move on, you notice that the thin layer of mist that lay on the floor about you is rising now, and as it does so, the temperature continues to drop for you…

From the distance it almost appears as if you can hear the howl of a wolf… But this is absurd surely, for you know that there are none in existence here… Yet it howls once more, and with every howl the warmth seems to be leeched from you…

Your head snaps up, feeling panicked now, as you realise that you can no longer see anyone or anything around you

Only the mists, roiling and endless.

The mists swirl and eddy before you, and you sense others nearby… But all any of you can see for the moment is a dark shape emerging… A strangely dressed man, a man who totters forward and then collapses on his back at the feet of the group… He is wearing thick furs and a hooded cape, broken snowshoes are over his back and in his mangled fingers he holds a small and blood stained axe in a vicelike grip.

His face is a ghostly white, and a pattern of deep blue wounds surrounded by blood made frost mark his throat and arms, as if he’d been defending himself from some kind of animal attack.

An icicled beard and moustache frame his face, and his skin is cold enough to burn.

Still the mists surround you all, chill bitterness seeping through you…

Nothing is visible beyond them, only billowing clouds of frost wrought fog.

The silence is suddenly pierced by the howling of a wolf, far closer this time than when you last heard it… A great white wolf suddenly emerges from the mists… A few yards away from Francis. The mists seem to cling to it, and with a quick twist it is gone once more, padding off into the fog and the cold. It turns and glances back once, and then the mists roll in to conceal it once more…

[Pamela]

Posted by: Pace Dec 22 2003, 06:57 AM

Talin finished with his daily chores in helping Triel his half-elven mentor with preparations with her purchase of his old home town's outpost now named Triel's Outpost and Inn. He idly walked through the streets of his village, passing by a small farm's crop wheat, breaking of on of the wheat stems of to idly chew on at his leisurely walk to an old oak tree at the edge of town, which had scores of marks etched on it bearing lovers' names.

Talin sighed softly at his own mark that was there with his past love's name. 'Shalla', he softly said in reverence to his departed love, as he sat down against the great oak and rested his back against it.

The cool breeze of an early autumn day, and the tired body soon found slumber, after he cast a gaze to where his family house used to be before it was burned down some many years back at an onslaught of vampires.

He was startled out of his brief respite at the sound of a baying wolf, and his eyes open to see a thick mist of fog blocking his sight. The unseasonal fog did not cause Talin much concern, it was oddness to it that did, something dark and sinister.

The image he saw was enough to make his blood boil, as he drew his sword in preparation to what was to come.

[Pamela]

Posted by: Pamela Dec 22 2003, 07:56 AM

It’s over, she thought, as the Mists descended, all over….Death had finally descended to seize the rest of her homeland. She slipped on her helm then automatically reached for her sword as her world disappeared. 'Do not go gentle into that good night'… Bloody right I won’t…

She shivered at the drop in temperature, the falling Mists, heart pounding…and strangely elated. Her rapid breathing became briefly a mist, then a sheen of ice upon the grid of her visor. She turned her head, sword poised, sensing but not able to fully perceive the figures who seemed to be nearby…not till the man in furs collapsed. Reflexes quickly turned to the now-visible companions, then to the wolf. Who is the greatest danger here? she thought, and relief lightened her tension a little as the beast disappeared...for the moment at least. Sharp brown eyes darted to the collapsed bundle- dead- and freed from that obligation, swerved to examine the-

Demon?! Instinctively casting her spell of detection, she stood puzzled, unable to sense the true nature of its evil. Intellect responded- cursed or …“Caliban!” she called out, “Where am I?” hoping he’d catch her tone if not her words, then repeated the words in Common. Let’s hope he isn’t an idiot…Then she caught his own ill-suited wardrobe, and turned to the other three men.

Two wrapped in greatcoats seemed better prepared for the weather except for the shared looks of displacement. The third was armed but no better dressed than she. “What beneath the good sun is going on? Does anyone have a means to make a torch, or any spells to alleviate the cold?” In the back of her mind, a quiet, unheeded voice wondered, is this what happened to the others?…

[Pamela]

Posted by: Castamir Dec 22 2003, 08:12 AM

As the mist rises and blocks Francis' view, he stops walking and feels a sense of dread, recognising the mist as the same sort that got his ship so horribly lost, and ended with it smashing on the rocks and Francis washing up on the coast of a strange land.

Gods, not twice in the same week.. unless it's going to take me home..

Desperately trying to see something whilst clutching his greatcoat closer to him to ward off the cold Francis very nearly cries out in surprise as the figure lurches forwards and collapses.

"Err hello? Oh.. right.. dead frozen chap.. marvellous."

Instinctively drawing his rapier at the sound of the wolf howl, Francis adopts a defensive posture as it walks into view. Francis believing himself to be alone gives voice to his thoughts, "Well, this is it old boy, looks like you've finally made it to hell, little earlier than planned and colder than expected, but none the less deserved.." The wolf walks out of sight "Oh.. good doggie."

At this point Francis turns around and realises he isn't in some sort of private nightmare, and there are other figures standing close by. The female in the armour speaks first, not to him at first, to a.. Whoa! What the hell is that!? Francis manages to keep that thought from spilling out of his mouth, he had never seen a creature like that before, and gods it was ugly. Realising the woman was not afraid of it he decides it can't pose a threat immediately and so he answers her question.

"Aye dear lady, I believe I have a torch in my pack, and a flint and steel although I fear that in this damp it will be hard to get a flame."

As a gesture of intent Francis sheaths his rapier and gives her an elaborate bow, "Captain Francis Blackblade, at your service madam."

[Pamela]

Posted by: Pace Dec 22 2003, 08:30 AM

As the chill set through his body, the mists seemed to recede a little. He could have sworn he heard the muffled sound of a pair of voices a male and female by the sounds of it. Talin cast silently and under his breath the spell detect undead, to see if they were the perpetrators of the cause of his unease.

They are humanoids at least. He thought to himself as he made his way to the two shadowy forms, announcing his presence shortly after the duo's introduction were given, "Can either of you tell me what the bloody hell is going on here?" He looked around to spot the great oak tree that should be still visible even with all the haze from the fog.

[Pamela]

Posted by: eocine Dec 22 2003, 08:47 AM

As he strode into the gardens of Hyde Park, he noticed the morning mists beginning to rise, rise in a most unnatural way. His keen Half Elven Eyes searching, watching as the few other people seemed to be enveloped within the twisting and writhing veil.

A wolf’s howl split the air asunder, and his right hand shot behind him quickly drawing one of his pistols, his other hand clenched his case tighter, even as his fingers began to burn with the cold.

At the sound of shuffling feet approaching him from behind, he spun on his heel, pointing his gun towards the head of the approaching man, one who looked dressed for a day in Cocytus.

He raised his pistol away, then started forwards as the man fell.

He checked his movement as he heard voices, training his pistol on first the roguish looking man, then the sturdy warrior type, then to the armoured woman, then finally to the Caliban...

Where it stayed for a time…

Then movement out of the corner of his eye, and he saw the great white wolf, but before he could aim it was gone, vanished into the mists.

Ice crunched under his feet as he stepped towards the rest of the group, the pistol now by his side. The creature had looked as disorientated as everyone else, but he would be watching him…

In reply to the woman’s question he said nothing, merely shaking his head, and then bending down to examine the presumably dead man collapsed before them.

The man’s fingers were ripped and torn, the furred sleeves of his coat lacerated, and with them his forearms had been bitten deeply, his fingers were literally stuck to his axe, the frozen blood gluing them to it. Pietro’s fingers reached out to attempt to close the lifeless eyes of the man, but found he could not.

He looked up at the gathered throng then stood. He’d seen wounds like this before, dog bites, but with the obviously supernatural wolves and mists.. He’d stake his life that these were no ordinary dog bites.

“Afraid not my friend”, he replied to the powerful looking man’s question… “I think we’re all as lost as one another”.

[Pamela]

Posted by: eocine Dec 22 2003, 08:52 AM

The tree Talin was expecting to see appeared to have been swallowed up too… In fact nothing could be seen but the other party members, and the seemingly endless walls of sweeping mists…

His search for undeath was equally fruitless… As indeed was the Paladin’s attempt at a search… It seemed they were truly alone within the featureless freezing mists..

[Pamela]

Posted by: Pamela Dec 22 2003, 09:05 AM

Molly laughed warmly at the chivalric gesture, glad at the relief of humour and camaraderie. Raising her visor with her free hand, still gripping her own sword, she made a formal bow. “Lady Molly Saint, Captain, and I take it you’re as lost as I am or just very, very hardy…”

At the swordsman’s approach, Molly shook her head, hearing the kneeling gentleman’s response- and the brief touch of a recognisable accent in his voice. “Just as bewildered as yourself, sir.”

She shivered, then approached the body. Grimacing a little, but without any pause, she knelt by the corpse and turning to the black-haired man, said, “Sorry about this, but…” She pried the axe from its grip, wincing a little at the sound of the fingers snapping. Putting the weapon beside her, she then removed its blood-and-frost covered furs. Presenting the filthy but warm coat, she called out, “Gentlemen? From the size of our departed friend, I think it safe to say that one size fits all…”

[Pamela]

Posted by: Castamir Dec 22 2003, 09:30 AM

"Very very lost" Confirmed Francis, "It's been one of those weeks I'm afraid."

Looking at the others Francis decided that at least three of them looked as if they could handle themselves in a fight, and also figured that he was in no immediate danger from any of them, and as they were not particularly wary of the monstrous fellow even he/she was probably not a particular threat. Time to don the trusty mail I think, best be ready for all eventualities.

Dumping his pack on the floor, Francis removes his greatcoat, shivering instantly, unbuckling his belt and giving a sheepish smile, "Excuse me, just adding another layer.."

Taking out his scale mail he wrestles himself into it, it's extremely well fitted to him - a medium length leather underjacket fixed with fine metal scales all over - finely made, light and flexible, allowing him to don his greatcoat over the top of it without any real loss of movement and if he fastens the coat properly it covers it up perfectly. As he rebuckled his belt he noticed that 'Lady Molly Saint' was removing the dead body's clothing, he pulled his face slightly with disgust, before returning to his pack, taking out his flint and steel and a torch, but leaving the disassembled crosbow, not trusting his chilled fingers to have the dexterity needed to reassemble it properly.

He then attempts to strike the flint and light the flammable end of the torch.

[Pamela]

Posted by: eocine Dec 22 2003, 10:08 AM

At Molly’s answer to his question, Pietro grimaced, but was hardly surprised. “This is most unnatural”, he said almost to himself, before holstering his pistol and dropping his case to the hard floor. He rubbed his hands together briskly, trying and failing to force a little warmth into his fingers.

This kind of temperature was not one for any kind of action…

He stood and watched as Molly stripped the corpse, frowning slightly at the splintering sound as he broke his fingers. As she held it out to him his shook his head rapidly... Then turned to look at the now scale mail clad Francis. “I don’t know about you but I’ve always found fur far more fitting for ladies than men”, he observed with a smile as he contemplated the frozen blood adorning it.

When the torch erupted into flame he stepped a little closer, able to feel the faint heat it gave off.