Preparations (Closed)

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Preparations (Closed)

Preparations
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They had answered a call to arms, of sorts. Certainly a call to action. There was something very odd going on in the Lori, and the Elders of Desnind wished to find out what it was. What could be causing it, and ... well... what the heck was going on, really.

Two groups were leaving that trial, that they knew of. There was the pair of them, Qit'ria and Dula. They had with them a guide. A tall Sev'ryn male, quiet and rather morose-seeming at first. Once they got underway, though, they'd discover that he was just a little shy. Once he grew more chatty, San'ka was a friendly and helpful chap.

And so they set out. On the journey they went on, in the time frame they had, they would run across two things.

Choices
Ok. So here are four choices. You get to pick two and go from there.
 ! Message from: Mutated Creatures
The group run across what seems to be strange, mutated creatures from the Lori. This might be as simple as glowing caterpillars to as difficult as an enormous flea. The choice is yours.
 ! Message from: Sentient plants?
The roots are moving underfoot, the trees part way for you - in one area of the Lori. In another, though, don't lie down or the grass will drain your blood / ectoplasm. There's something about specific parts of where you are which are just completely .... weird. It's contained to a few specific places, with each place having a unique "personality"
 ! Message from: Sinkholes
Suddenly, there's a sensation of dropping and you find yourself in a labyrinthine underground area. The hole you fell through is gone and it's dark. There are skittering sounds in the dark....
 ! Message from: Death Valley
In a small area, everything is dead. Trees, plants, and a lot of animals. Everything you touch crumbles into black dust which, when you inhale it, causes a very unpleasant nausea and dizziness. Where the dust touches your skin, it turns black for a few days and itches like you wouldn't believe. If you attempt to collect the dust, it corrodes whatever container you put it in.
NPC
 ! Message from: NPC Specs
This is a 300 point NPC.
No Domain Magic
No Alchemy or Dreamwalking.
He must have - as his main skills - Bow, Hunting and Fieldcraft.
You must assign his skills in your first post(s)

Enjoy!

word count: 408
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~~Red in hoof and claw... ~~


Family visiting. Send help!
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Dula
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Re: Preparations (Closed)

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Vhalar 83, 719¤

San'ka NPC
Bow; 60
Hunting; 60
Field Craft; 60
Navigation; 60
Stealth; 60

It wouldn't do to sit around in her home when there was important business to get into around Desnind. Maybe she could get a manner of respect from her peers if she found herself investigating the strange happenstances in the Lori, Dula was sick and tired of feeling like an outsider to her own home. What better way to impress people than to seek out riches or ruin chasing evil in the swamps of the Makubwa Lori? A group had been sent out last Cycle to discover things, it was her job to be the follow up to that group's investigations. Dula didn't know exactly what the previous group had found as she had missed that part of the rumor mill, but whatever it was only raised more questions for the Elders. The call to arms she answered was called through troubled words and the crowd that gathered was stricken with the news. Would the troubles in Desnind ever end? Dula decided she would be the one to solve this issue, though not single-handedly. So here she was with a guide, the brooding man San'ka, and apparently.... a ghost?

Whoever this woman had been before her death it could be said she was beautiful. Dula noticed something about the woman's features registered as mildly intimidating-- and not just because the woman was transparent. She tried not to stare and kept her head forward, focusing her eyes anywhere but the ghost woman who went with them as they traveled through the Lori. That was when the half-sev'ryn registered their guide speaking.
"... They say it could be a blight. I dunno. Something to do with those ether storms maybe, that's what I think."
The man grunted and said nothing else, his look somewhere between bored and pissed off.

Dula nodded and scratched her head with a gloved hand. What could a ghost possibly be doing in Desnind? She had never once seen this woman in Desnind alive or dead until now. How strange, the curious Dula thought while trying to steer her focus on the task at hand. Each step farther into the Lori gave Dula goosebumps, she knew she was on the precipice of something big. She couldn't place her finger on what. It was like the feeling of electricity before a storm, that hush that made your hackles raise on some ancestral, primordial level. As if she could taste the change in the air. Dula's own energy was palpable, being as green as she was. Her excitement was obvious as she kept a tight grip on Mercury, using the staff as a walking stick.

She wondered what the ghost woman felt, if she could even feel. Qit'ra, that was her name. It was hard to see her like a person, being rather transparent and all. So on they traveled, following San'ka through the swamps, going deeper and deeper into the Lori. As usual it was a beautiful sight to behold, the Lori. The cypress trees loomed over the swamps, imposing and ancient as most had been there for centuries. The hanging moss tickled her face once or twice, she silently hoped she wouldn't get any chiggers. Moseke's right boob, never again. It was approaching sundown now, they had traveled rather far into the Lori. During the Hot Cycle at this time the call of bullfrogs or peepers would be heard, but this was the time of hibernation for most creatures-- the swamp was eerily silent save for the occasional slap of something in the mire. This late in the season even the crickets were finding places to hide out the winter.

Dula had on her basic level winter garb, all of it, and her pack was strapped to the teeth with her entire field craft kit. Also in her bag was the blanket she slept with from home. It was heavy, but she shouldered the burden well.
"Are we getting close then?"
She said aloud.

word count: 687

As Above; So Below


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Re: Preparations (Closed)

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The Healer was working in the Order, high over the tree tops, practicing on a very patient, very tough young man who had cut his arm while playing around with his knife. It wasn't deep, it didn't need surgery, but it did need cleaning and stitched. A blue cloak with a stern face, and a beak like nose was watching the Healer work. The blue cloaked woman knew that her charge still struggled with her fine motor skills, and was being patient with her. She was not so well versed in ghosts, but she'd spoken with Qit'ria on the matter, and the ghost had been open about the difficulties.

Thankfully the patient was young and willing to prove his manhood. Which was good, because the Healer was struggling to get the sutures right, and the blue cloak was making her pull them out and redo them if they were done poorly. The Healer got frustrated tossing the needle and thread down.

The blue cloak stepped forward, "Qit'ria. Slow down. Think about what it is you're doing. You're a ghost. That doesn't have to be a disadvantage. Now focus, do it again. This boy here will only last so long." She added that last bit in to further play on his manhood.

The Healer sighed, taking a deep breath. Then she stepped up toward the boy again. Her fingers felt like sausages. They just weren't fine enough to do what she needed. She needed them to be smaller. Skinnier. She didn't know how to do that with her fingers. She wasn't even sure if she could. All she could do was possess people, but she didn't want to do that, fearing the spark within her. All that was left was.. her eyes opened wide. There was something else she could do. Focusing hard, she summoned forth two tendrils, extending out of her ribs.

She held them up before her, knowing that they were invisible to the patient and the blue cloak. They tapered to a pretty narrow point. She had experience with tentacles with her old Mer form. She could make this work. She picked up the thread and needle easily with the tendrils, feeding the string into the eye with relative ease. To the onlookers, it was simply floating. Then she set to work. Her stitches this time were much cleaner and tighter, and she managed to sew them up in quick time. She smiled at her handiwork and the blue cloak nodded.

"Well done, Qit'ria."

The pair of healers walked the man out, just as a huntsman walked in. Qit didn't recognize him, but he frowned upon seeing her. As if he knew about her and didn't like what he'd heard. He spoke in a soft voice to the blue cloak, "Hello Rem'lia. I've come to see if the Order has anyone to spare for the investigation into the Lori. Preferably someone with experience in the wilds."

Rem'lia smiled, nodding her head toward the Healer. "This one here has more experience in those wilds than most of us. And she's more than capable of healing, as well as many other talents." The Healer looked at the woman nervously, going off on something like this on her own. At least back in Rharne she was paired with Oonah. But she put on a fierce face, as the Huntress spilled out. "Yes. I will go with you."

The man told her the time and place to meet, and left. The Huntress stalked into the clinic, grabbing her baby from the man who was watching her, and strapped her to her back using the Vines of the Lori her daughter always wore. She urged the vines to be extra protective of her daughter, and they grew hardened leaves up around her, forming a turtle like shell that extended up and over her head. The Great Spirit of the Lori would protect her.

And so, the Huntress, with baby in tow, carrying her domain bag with her healer's pack inside it was ready, ghostly spear at the ready, standing around as the groups formed. She barely listened as the man, San'ka, spoke, finding that a woman who at too much was staring at her. So the Huntress glared back, with years of animal glares having been practiced.

And the more the woman stared at the Huntress, the more her ectoplasm grew annoyed. She was literally emanating the emotion, and her child was feeling it too, kicking roughly behind her, fists flailing within her baby pack. She'd fall asleep soon, it was nearly naptime and she'd been fed and changed just before the Huntress arrived.

San'ka took point on their three person group, and the Huntress took the rear guard, leaving the fat woman between them. A simple line formation, so that San'ka could lead the way, scouting for danger, so that the Huntress could guard the flanks, and so Dula could assist at either end quickly if needed. As they walked, Caza was quick to fall asleep, warm in the clothes made by her Aunt Faith. And the Huntress, still terribly annoyed, could not fathom why this fat woman had been brought on this trip. She was soft. Her butt bounced so much as she walked. There was practically no muscle on her.

What use was she out here? She was a liability. She would get herself killed. The Huntress already had most of a mind to not stop anything from eating the fatty if it came to that. Might be enough to tire the beast out and make it easy to slay after such a big meal. But the Huntress did her duty, watching, waiting. She saw up ahead as San'ka walked across some spongy, swampy ground between tree roots. The ground had sunk, but did not rise back up. Her eyes were quick to look from him back to Dula. The woman almost certainly had to weigh more than him.

Just as Dula was asking her question, asking it far too loudly than she should out here, the Huntress was rushing forward, on legs as tireless as a deer. Just as the ground gave way beneath the fat woman's feet, the Huntress' tendrils extended outward, wrapping around Dula's torso, beneath her arm pits. The huntress focused her mind to be as hard and as heavy as the great turtle she used to be. Her body solidified as much as she could muster, and she got her feet against a sturdy root, her invisible tendrils holding the fat woman up and over a sinkhole that had just given way.

But her strength was waning fast, "San'ka!" Spirits this woman was heavy. San'ka was already easing around the hole toward the edge where Dula and the Huntress were located, trying to not cause further collapse. Wisps of ectoplasm were shredding from the Huntress' skin, disappearing into nothingness, just as the man laid down on his stomach, reaching a hand out for the fat woman.

Then the grip slipped and Dula was dropped into the darkness.

The Huntress didn't wait to see the outcome of that. With a bear's roar, the ghost, was up, jumping into the hole, her tendril lashing out to grab a root as she extended downward into the hole, right behind Dula, preparing to fight upon landing on the stone floor.

In Xanthean, "Fat Dula. You alive?"
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Re: Preparations (Closed)

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Their silent trek through the Lori was steadily becoming more awkward for Dula. The ghost woman seemed to radiate animosity and Dula couldn't tell if that was just something ghosts did or if the dead woman was harboring ill feelings towards her. In truth this was the first ghost Dula had ever encountered, so she wasn't sure if it was just something that dead people did but she was leaning towards that. Surely if she died so young she would be pissed off too.

As Dula walked she couldn't help but be in awe that the Elder's chose her for this mission. Either it wasn't as serious as they said or they were hard up for bodies. It registered on some level that she was far beneath both of these people in skill and training but Dula was going to be hard pressed to admit that. So far her hair-brained explorations had gone well, she was a lucky person, and she was confident that no matter what that would always ring true.

So here she was, an absolutely lucky fool, trudging through a dangerous part of the Lori.

“Destiny, man… Destiny is like forks in a road. You’re on the same path no matter what avenue you take but it’s the choice that directs your fate.”

Came Hygge's prophecy in her mind. On some level she missed him. He had made no attempt to contact her, nor did she seek him out. Not that she knew how to find him anyway.

Had the unfortunate Dula been paying attention and not so in her own head she might not have walked straight onto the sink hole that San'ka was able to cross with his light feet. The soft ground gave way beneath her as she stepped over it, a spout of air covered her face in mud, and for a moment she gurgled in panic. She could feel the mud closing in around her, sucking her in, filling her throat. Suspended in mid-air she was trying to run, legs kicking in a circular motion, as the vision of her reoccurring nightmare flooded her mind. Sparing a glance below her at the deep pit that opened beneath her feet she could hear the man cackling, the coins jingling, and with all of her might she fought the grip that had her by the underarms.

"Let me go!"

She was descending into darkness now, something holding her back, until finally she was free; falling some good measure down into the sinkhole and landing on her ass, Mercury clattering beside her unceremoniously. There was no mud here. It was enough to jar her awake. No, she wasn't dreaming, she was in fact in a pit. A real one. Fod-sack. There was a roar and then the ghost met her in the hole.
"Fat Dula. You alive?"
Was what Dula was greeted by. It hit Dula like a slap to the face. For a split second her nostrils flared and an eye twitched, but it occurred to Dula that she needed all the help she could get right now-- it wouldn't do to throw rocks at her companion. She got up and dusted herself off, adjusting things on her body and acting like nothing happened. She bit back sarcasm, but focused on the top of the sinkhole. All she could see was San'ka's head and he looked, as usual, stern.
"Yes."

In truth her nerves were on fire. Already she was shaken up, her breathing was shallow. To these two maybe it was just another day in the woods, but something internally was happening to Dula. She just couldn't consciously register it yet. Something one might call "spiritual alchemy". Taking the pure to impure was the first step, and into the impurity she would go. Grabbing Mercury off the ground she looked into the pit, it seemed to go on deeper into the earth, then turned her head back up to San'ka. She had nothing to say to Qit'ra and it wasn't out of spite but simply because her problem solving was coming to her fast, she needed to move. Were ghosts even people? She shook the thought out of her head in an attempt to clear it, then spoke to San'ka with a wavering voice.
"I have rope, I'm going to toss it up to you."

Undoing her fifty feet of rope from her pack she tried a couple times to reach him, until finally making contact with his hands.
"Good. Maybe tie it around something up there. What can you see?"
She was trying to sound commanding or in control as internally she felt as if she were being lit on fire. Before San'ka was able to respond the ground in which he was laying on gave way and he fell into the pit with them right on his back. The rope wasn't far behind and landed on his midsection with a thwump! He groaned in pain. There was a bright flash after that and then nothing. No really, nothing. It was so dark in here, Dula didn't know what to do. Blinking, looking around at the overwhelming dark, she outstretched her hands and tried to find San'ka. When she found him he was getting to his feet and he handed her the rope as she helped dust him off.

"This is unusual. I would say we might be on to something. You saw that flash? The hole's gone too."
Came San'ka in a hushed whisper, it sounded slightly pained.
Dula whispered as well, her voice genuinely concerned and filled with a certain amount of real fear;
"Qit'ra? You okay?"
Which registered as a certain amount of irony, the woman was well dead, but she knew she had to ask it anyway.

word count: 988

As Above; So Below


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Re: Preparations (Closed)

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Good. Dula was alive. And she seemed to be uninjured so that the Healer didn't need to come out. Her fat butt probably cushioned the fall enough. The Huntress reached into her domain bag, pulling out her eternal rabbit foot candle and the flint and steel she kept in the healing Qit from the order. A few quick strikes and she managed to ignite the candle. At the moment of ignition, she heard the crash of San'ka falling through the edge of the hole, landing painfully. Then she watched the hole seal itself back up.

The moment that happened, the Huntress' instincts went into overdrive. She knew what this was. She blinked forward toward Dula, whispering in her ear in Xanthean, "Quiet! You will get us killed!" She waved San'ka over. In the barest of whispers, "This is a trap. This was no accident. And the fall wasn't enough to break your legs, let alone kill you. The hunter wants to take us alive, or to kill us later."

She held the candle up high, they were in a rounded room, hardened earth, with natural stones in the floor. There was only one hallway out. She looked back at Dula, glancing up and down her body. There was no climbing out for her. They'd have to find another way out. And that meant going deeper into the trap. This was survival, and the Huntress was queen of survival, as ironic as it was.

She sighed softly, "We need to be careful. Move slowly and quietly. We know nothing about this place. You will join me in death if you are careless. And I will let you die before I let my child die because of you. Either of you. I need t--" She heard the faintest sound of movement deep in the darkness. And it was coming closer. She slowly handed the eternal candle to Dula.

She shrugged off the vines of the baby pack, handing the child to Dula. This was not because she viewed Dula as lesser than, at least not in the moment. She was putting her trust in the woman to protect her child during what was to come. This trust didn't come easily, for Caz'aria was the soul reason she was here upon Idalos as a ghost. She was her everything. No words were necessary. The vines wrapped themselves around Dula's torso, and Caza looked up at her with her adorable, crimson eyes. The Huntress nodded at San'ka.

The huntsman drew his bow, as the Huntress stalked forward toward the edge of the light. She listened, hearing a heavy weight upon the stone. She heard the sound of claws tapping against it as well. Something was coming, and it was big. Really big. But she'd handled bigger. She'd been bigger. The Huntress didn't show any signs of panic or worry as the creature stepped into the outer most edges of the light.

It roared loudly, and the Huntress knew it to be a bear. Sort of. It had been a bear. And she was not afraid of it. She stepped forward, filling her lungs symbolically with air that was unnecessary and unleashed her own bear's roar, just as she had done in life. As she roared, her head changed into that of the bear she used to be. The challenge had been given and accepted.

The roar ended and the Huntress was back to how she looked normally. She dropped into her low, fighting crouch. Her claws were extended, shining a bit more in the soft candle light as she pumped her ectoplasm into them, making them as solid as she could muster. Her scowl was intense. Something had ruined this bear. This was an abomination, and it infuriated her. The bear started to lumber toward her, and the Huntress foot turned in, her muscles rippling.

The bear charged, and the Huntress swooped in low. She saw the bear's muscles moving before the strike came, and was dodging it before the leg was even raised. It swiped across as she was ducking beneath. Her own class slashed at the exposed belly. She didn't manage to carve deep, trying to get a good feeling for her capabilities. She dove between the bear's back legs, slashing at both of them as she went.

San'ka put two arrows in the bear's neck as it turned toward her. It was already limping. She was almost insulted. This bear didn't seem to be any stronger than a normal bear. It charged her again, starting to roar, and she didn't move, instead lunging one of her tendrils outward, invisible to the onlookers. She shoved it down the bear's throat and solidified it as much as she could. She forced it down deeper, the tendril now visible. The bear stopped in its tracks, trying to choke up the appendage. It thrashed, and it swiped its claws, at the tendril, rending away some of her ectoplasm, causing her to wince a bit in pain. But the ectoplasm reformed until the bear suffocated and dropped in a heap.

The Huntress moved forward, leaning down before the great beast. "I will avenge you. I will find whoever, whatever did this to you." Then she stabbed her claws deep in the arteries of the bear's neck, ensuring that it didn't wake back up. She then walked over to Dula and Sanka, her claws still dripping a strange, black blood that sizzled as it spilled onto the stone. She flicked her wrists a bit, knocking all of the fowl substance off, as she bent forward, kissing her baby upon the crown of her head, then taking the child back, strapping her to her own chest.

"Come. Stealth is no longer an option."

The Huntress left the candle with Dula, turning back toward the corridor, seeing the bear melt into a puddle of acidic, black ooze, carving a hole straight through the stone and dirt. As she led the way, keeping her sharpened ears at the ready, she spoke, "Dula, what are you able to do? You're not a huntress by any means, but you came on this for a reason. What are you?" This was not said with the venom of an insult, but rather the stern words of a comrade in a survival situation.

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Goosebumps ran the length of Dula's arms as the ghost woman hissed in her ear. It was a creepy-crawlie sensation and she was relived when Qit'ra waved over San'ka, hissing to him instead. The ghost was right though, there was no way this was just a coincidence. For what purpose were these sinks holes being made though? Trapping people and then what? Dula scratched her head, staring into the rabbit foot candle's flame trying to make sense of it all.

The ghost woman was muttering to herself but her words choked off as Qit'ra shoved the candle into Dula's hands. Like a hound dog catching a scent Dula watched the waifish, translucent woman go into action. While is should have registered long ago Dula hadn't noticed until the moment the young one as being shoved into her arms that Qit'ra had a real, living baby strapped to her. Dula thought it was some kind of backpack-- granted it was in theory but filled instead with a baby, not items. There was a certain look to Qit'ra's eyes as the vines wrapped around Dula's torso. At frst Dula couldn't describe the emotion hidden there but looking down to the child realized this must be Qit'ra's own flesh and blood, the look was that of trust and something else. A command of sorts, telling Dula to keep the baby safe.

Crimson eyes stared into Dula's own but before the half-sev'ryn could really register what was happening a monster came into view. Holding the candle outwards to see better she was shocked when her eyes rested on the deformed creature. It roared and the scene exploded into action. The creature was absolutely disgusting, just a mound of black flesh which writhed as it moved. In the darkness its eyes were merely evil points of light dancing in the candle's flame, as she looked deep there they had no soul. It was something out of a farking nightmare. Dula took a couple steps back away from the fight, gripping her staff, as she struggled to grasp the reality of her choice to come on this mission.

Watching Qit'ra and San'ka move was like a deadly ballet. They both moved with such grace and know-how, Dula was as in awe of them as she was disgusted by the creature they were fighting. She wished she could join in the fight but with her hands totally full and a baby wrapped around her torso there was nothing she could do for now. It was true, she would need both hands to fight with her staff. A tiny, clammy hand tapped her cheek gently and Dula looked down at the baby. She? Seemed to not be phased by the scene playing out in front of them and was happy to gurgle and explore Dula's face with her jet black hands.

The reek of the mutated bear's blood made Dula want to vomit. It smelled like compost, diarrhea, and acid. Of all the things Dula could live with never seeing or smelling again this encounter would make the top of the list. The ghost woman Qit'ra used some sort of ghost tentacle ability to choke out the decrepit bear. It didn't last long against the attack and was felled aftwerwards with the ghost woman sinking claws into its neck, dissolving the thing into an acrid puddle of disgusting, sizzling ooze.

As the child was taken from Dula she began breathing a sigh of relief, but that breath was sucked in tight as the ghost woman began assaulting her with words yet again. Dula looked from her to San'ka who merely raised his eyebrows at the both of them and shrugged. Wow this ghost had a serious complex. The gravity of the situation was too real, surely, but Dula wouldn't stand for a stranger taking advantage of her with words. The woman was already dead and for some reason had brought a fucking infant on a mission into a dangerous part of the Lori, as if Dula was the only dead weight. Dula gave her a pausing look and let the woman's words hang in the air before speaking.

"I can do anything that you can, granted I'm not dead or as skilled in combat... But the elder's wouldn't have chosen me if they weren't sure I was up for the challenge."
Or something like that, she thought to herself. This woman was cruel, though her tone didn't have malice to it, it was clear the woman was parting some judgement over Dula. She wouldn't stand for it.
"Don't be a fucking coward."
"I am here, like you are, to figure out what's going on. Don't insult me. I don't deserve your ire, stranger. It would seem on this day we are here for the same reasons, on the same team. What am I? I am a light in the darkness, forging the path of my destiny with each step I take."
She held up the flame with irony, a grimace seen on her face. She wouldn't meet the woman's eyes, truly expecting the dead woman to laugh at her... Just like everyone else always did when Dula spoke her truth. The talk with Eliza rung in her head.
"Those who laugh make terrible judges."
To which Dula followed up in her own words, "with fragile egos". Her heart ached but she asked the woman in turn;
"Why are you here, then?"

San'ka put his head in his hands, clearly not wanting to listen to any of this and eager to go on. He waved for them to continue and Dula kept pace with him, avoiding the stain-like hole the dead beast left in its wake.

They walked for some time, the occasional scritching noise to be heard deeper into the cavern. It would seem after walking for ten bits the slope was headed downwards. Walking on farther they entered a cavern, about as big as a small barn, and crystals could bee seen jutting out from the ceiling glittering in the candle light. The scratching noise stopped and there was a hush in the air, as if everything was standing still. A low growl could be heard from the darkness. That was when four wolves stepped into the light and began circling the group, lips peeled back in a snarl. Warning yelps could be heard but they didn't attack just yet. They licked their lips evilly, tongues as a three headed snake. One was slavering, snake headed tongue lolled out of its mouth and dipping wet.

On their faces they had five eyes, the two that would naturally be there were milky blue, looking similar to opals. Another was in the middle of their forheads and the final eyes were on the outer sides of their natural, blind eyes. Their fur was thick around their neck but short on the rest of their body. They looked to be starving, ribs clearly seen under stretched skin. Going down their spine were the same crystals that could be seen on the ceiling, spiking out in sharp angles and adding to more of the gaunt look. It was as if the crystals had grown out of their back like a tooth, exposed pink flesh around the base of the crystal.

Setting down the curious candle slowly on the ground, Dula tried not to make any sudden movements.
word count: 1270

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At Dula's words, the Huntress snorted derisively. The woman had spoken in vagaries, puffing up her chest with words. The Huntress put no stock in the thoughts of the Elders of Desnind. She had sought help to find Yeye, to find her mother from the Elders an arc ago, pleading with the elders and those in the city. But because she was a magical mutant, because she bore a baby more reminiscent of a demon than child, because she had fled all those years after what happened to her sisters, no help was given. There was no comfort, no kind words, no aid.

It was when she valued their opinion as the lowest in the land. And by sending this... woman on this dangerous mission, they only cemented her opinion of them. Light in the darkness, forging her own path? What nonsense was that. The Huntress pointed at the sizzling hole of dissolved bear, "I hunt." She then pointed at San'ka, "I heal." Finally she pointed at Dula, "I save."

Then the Huntress began to walk down the only tunnel in this trap, and possible tomb, of theirs. She was careful in her steps, her eyes darting around, taking in every detail, her ears listening for anything beyond the movements of their own. They entered a wide open cavern, and the Huntress could make out four new paths leading away from them in the stone and earth. And she could hear the movements of the wolves, claws upon stone, snorting through their noses, moving as one unit.

When she saw them, she was disgusted. Something was twisting and ruining the natural balance of these poor creatures. It burned her insides with the anger she felt, and she used that anger now. Just as the wolves began to move out, to surround the group, the Huntress charged forward, to disrupt the formation before it began. The lead wolf she charged at jumped at her, as the others hurried forward to continue their flanking of Dula and San'ka. The Huntress dipped to the side of the creature, lashing out with her claws once more. But she didn't materialize them this time, having no intention of damaging the creature like this. Instead, she reached inside the creature in the way that only a ghost could, and she disappeared within it, possessing it.

The vines carrying her child snapped out, strapping to the back of the possessed abomination wolf, recognizing the Huntress' soul within it. The Huntress snarled loudly, her body in terrible pain. These creatures only knew pain and hunger. Their entire existence was nothing but. The pain was rending away her ectoplasm far faster than she'd expected, she knew she'd have to make this quick. She immediately began charging after one of the other wolves, on the side that was attempting to flank Dula. The Huntress was forced to assume San'ka could hold his own for a while.

One wolf was charging at Dula, while the other continued to move around, to get in behind her. The Huntress went after the latter. She leapt at it, landing on its back, her twisted maw biting heavily into its neck. The snake portion of her hissed and began biting out at the snake of the other, a cruel and twisted dance of attacks. The pair of wolves fell to their side, as the Huntress clamped down harder, shaking the wolf beneath her, striking out with her claws along the creature's back.

But it wasn't enough, and the Huntress let it go, confident she had its focus now. The two wolves began to circle one another, much like a battle of alphas. The Huntress lunged in first, jaws snapping at empty air as the other dodged. Snap and snarls filled the air as the two tussled and tumbled about. They rolled and ran and bit and scratched, Caza inside the protective, hardened leaves of the Lori vines.

The Huntress stumbled, falling on her side, as the other wolf gained high ground over her, snapping down at her exposed neck. It got ahold of her, and she couldnt shake it loose as its teeth gripped tighter and tighter. The Huntress immediately exited the wolf's body, leaving a large portion of her ectoplasm behind, appearing just behind the attacking wolf. She lunged out another tendril, this one a bit thinner and more transparent as she struggled to keep her form together. She wrapped it around the attacker's neck and squeezed. She focused on the grip, as iron tight as she could, dropping to one knee in her exertions, until the wolf fell still, collapsing upon the other who was dying in its maws.

The Huntress retrieved her child, pulling on the pack, weary and beginning to fade in and out of visibility. She needed to get back to the Beneath. And soon. The Beneath...

That was it!

She knew people could enter the Beneath too, and those within the Beneath could not be seen by those outside of it, except for people like Faith. Using the last of her ectoplasm, the Huntress slowly began to open a small tear in the Beneath, large enough for herself and others to come through. She shouted, though tiredly, "Follow me... we must hurry, it will not be open long." Then she and her child stepped into the muted, grey world of the Beneath, hunting ground for spirits and specters alike.




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