Cemetary Crypt

Mavarion · Post by **Mavarion** » Fri Sep 01, 2006 5:09 am

((NPC Post))

The moss caked the sides of the Battlemage crypt at the heart of Shim. The vines, in some places holding bits of cement blocks and mortar in place, crawled over every visible inch. Though not many people ventured into the cemetary, even during the day, there was still someone responsible for caring for the grounds. The keeper, a middle aged, whip-thin man with a severe widow's peak and angular features, tended to the regular graves, only rarely venturing forth to half-heartedly attempt to clear the growth away from the Battlemage crypt.

Today was one of those days. He had started at the doors, scraping away at the moss to remove it from the mortar between the cracks and blocks. He had even attempted to open the door, but years of dust and dirt had kept it from swinging inward more than an inch. That was more than enough for the keeper, who quickly pulled the door shut again. His heart had raced as soon as the fetid air had touched him, and even after an hour, he still shuddered occasionally. He had continued around to the left side clearing away vines and moss as he went. So intent on his work, he didn't notice the slowly setting sun as afternoon slipped into early evening.

And so, as he sat squinting through the darkness at a small hole in the base of the crypt, wondering how it had gotten there and how he would fix it, he suddenly realized he couldn't see properly. Superstition and fear over took him, and he froze, unable to move. The rumors said that it was death to be in the cemetary after nightfall, but he couldn't force his body to listen to him.

Shadowsong · Post by **Shadowsong** » Fri Sep 01, 2006 10:18 pm

Someone had ignored the rumours.

The swiftly darkening sky was no deterrent, in fact, the cover of nightfall was necessary. Approaching the graveyard in broad daylight would lead to questions, questions best left unanswered. Questions best left unasked, for that matter.

Of course, night ruled out using the map. But a rough location had been memorized. Torchlight would draw notice, and holding an open flame alongside paper had it's own problems.

Mentally cursing the earlier theft of his cloak, the figure crept through the cemetery. Finding something to do with his helm had been an effort, couching it under his arm was impractical for stealth, and wearing it would restrict his awareness too much. So instead, he had it on a sling over his shoulder, lying over the shield on his back. Carrying his shield would have been too obvious to anyone spotting his silhouette. Some effort was made to retain anonymity.

Near the crypts, probably the one he was after, was a figure hunched over in a sitting position. Stealth would be better served by avoiding the figure, but on a guess it was right by the tomb he was after. If secrecy would be an issue, well, this was a cemetary.

Approaching cautiously, the helm and shield were unslung, then the helm reslung over the shoulder and the shield fitted into place on his arm. Not knowing the situation, it paid to be careful. Restricting his awareness was not an idea just yet.

There was maybe eight feet between them when the first words were spoken, 'What happened?' he asked the frozen figure softly, 'Who the hell are you?' Shield at the ready, hand on the hilt of his sword.

And making no announcement of who he was.

Morsereg Dindaedel · Post by **Morsereg Dindaedel** » Sun Sep 03, 2006 5:22 pm

As silent as the graves that he weaved through, a figure moved through the cemetery with grace and precision. His eyes and ears were opened to their full potential, on occasion stopping to give his undivided attention to the secrets which the night could tell.

As he traversed the length of the cemetery, there were times when he thought he saw someone in the shadows, following a similar path, but when he looked again the figure was nowhere to be seen. A vague guess ran through his head as to who he believed he was seeing, and he followed the path he was on.

In secrecy he strode into the night, his eyes settling on a crypt standing as the backround for two other figures. His pace quickened and he found himself approaching from behind the same figure his mind connected with having seen earlier. He did not announce his presence, but instead silently took a few steps to the side to watch the exchange.

Comfortably cloaked in darkness, he watched...

Mavarion · Post by **Mavarion** » Wed Sep 06, 2006 1:31 am

((NPC Post))

The cemetary keeper whirled at the soft voice behind him, his fear heightening. It was all he could do not to run away in a panic. As it was, his heart was beating so hard in his chest he thought it might leap out and run away without him.

His knees weakened in relief as he recognized the shield being held in front of him. A Marn city guardsman!

"Oh, Mastah Guardsman, ya almos' gave an ol' fella heart failyer, ya did! Boy though, I shore am glad ta see ya! Wasna payin' attention ta tha light, an' foun' meself in tha cem'tary afta dark! Isna tha' somethin'?" he babbled. Fear had made his usual reticence about talking to people vanish. "What brings ya ta tha cem..." He paused, his brows folding down in a frown.

What -was- a Marn city guard doing in Shim? he suddenly thought. Shim doesn't need much in the way of guards, and why would one be in the cemetary in the middle of the night?

Shadowsong · Post by **Shadowsong** » Wed Sep 06, 2006 11:21 am

Armour only allowed for so many careers. Nearly all men in armour were considered to be officials. It would have been more convenient if his armour was not always recognised as a guardsman. That he might be just another nameless and faceless mercenary in his work.

A grim hiss escaped the warrior at the gravekeeper's presumption. He searched for the how to answer the gravekeeper's questions, then he found it: don't.

'You were not moving when I saw you. You were still for minutes.' A deadly quiet voice cut through the night. The hour was late, too late for absent-mindedness to be the explanation. Were it not, it would be too early for the vampire to join them...

'Something has frightened you. Show it to me.' His tone brooked no disobedience, and he still considered killing the old man.

Be useful, old man.

Mavarion · Post by **Mavarion** » Fri Sep 08, 2006 3:46 am

((NPC Post))

The old keeper swallowed hard, realizing that in his rambling, he had been about to question a guard. He turned towards the hole in the base of the wall of the crypt, avoiding the guards penetrating gaze.

"I' seems tha somethin' made a hole in this wall here, Mastah. 'Twas na so much tha' I was fright'ned as I was wonderin' how I was ta fix this. 'Twas only fright'ned when yerself came up behin' me, Mastah." The keeper shot a sheepish smile over his shoulder at Krevster. He paused, looking around as if momentarily distracted, then frowned. A small breeze seemed to blow by, but no leaves rustled and the long grass did not move

The keeper continued his speech, obviously distracted. "I had planned on ... stayin' 'roun' here ... ta finish off tha ... crypt here," he waved haphazardly at the crypt before him, staring directly at the hole in the wall. "I 'spose ... I los' track o' tha ... time."

His speaking stopped, and he seemed barely to breath as he continued staring at the hole.

Shadowsong · Post by **Shadowsong** » Fri Sep 08, 2006 9:54 pm

Irritation rose like a fountain. Grabbing hold of the keeper's attention was accomplished by grabbing hold of the keeper and then a sharp tug. While the effort was not great enough to haul the keeper towards him, it was a very clear reminder where his attention belonged.

'Understand this. That hole bothers you. Do not pass this off. Do not dodge my questions. Tell me what you saw in this hole and tell me about the damn crypt.'

For all the annoyance in his voice, an effort was made not to shout. Stealth missions tended not to work well when that happened. Strange behaviour from the keeper was convenient at this juncture, as it allowed Krevster a reason to investigate the crypt without betraying his true interest.

And under no accounts was he about to stare into that hole.

Scanning the greater area of the crypt, the dust over the door had been disturbed. 'Someone try to get in?' he demanded. 'What would there be to look for?' Measurements were taken with his armoured hands to examine for traps.

Post by **Alalia Morrigan** » Fri Sep 08, 2006 11:49 pm

“You would know that better than most, wouldn’t you, Darkheart?” a familiar voice purred. The guard’s cape landed in the dirt at his feet with a soft thump, coming from the direction of a tall grave marker. Alalia was perched on top of it, her shadowed silhouette resembling a crouching gargoyle.

The cat-girl had realized that by morning she would be a wanted woman, if not already a dead one. She also knew that the only person who could rescind the order putting her life in danger was the one who had given it. Leaping down, she landed with a grace that suited her animal nature.

Straightening, Alalia glanced at Morsereg. “We meet again, then,” she commented, her tone almost light. “It’s been awhile.” She then turned her attention to her main purpose as she turned her intense green gaze on the guardsman. “I want to make a deal,” she said bluntly. “I have absolutely no desire to be hauled off by an angry mob of peasants straight to a dissection table. I don’t fear death, but that’s not the way I was to meet it.”

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the bottle she had stolen from Darkheart’s room. “I believe this yours. Put an end to this hunt you’ve started, and you will have it, along with any aid I can offer. Tell the villagers I’ve been captured, killed anything, just make it stop, and you’ll have anything else you want from me.”

Morsereg Dindaedel · Post by **Morsereg Dindaedel** » Mon Sep 11, 2006 10:26 pm

Morsereg watched silently as Alalia revealed herself, soon following suite when she spoke to him. "Yes, it has been awhile," He nodded slowly, barely even thinking about it as he put up his now-familiar glamour to hide his supernatural status from the caretaker. No need to panic him more than he has already been.

His green eyes traveled across the three who stood before him, landing finally on Alalia, who was holding a bottle before her. "Do you think you're in such a state to be bargaining?" He hissed, "There are two of us, and one of you. Now, I do not know exactly where your fighting ability measures up to ours combined, but, in most cases, I do believe you are at the disadvantage.

"What do you have to gain from doing this? Alalia, don't underestimate yourself. You'd kill any pack of villagers who came after you. Eventually, they'll either all die out, give up, or you could travel to another region. Start a new life, maybe. You are in no real danger, if you have only villagers after you. If they start to attempt with Battlemages, you can leave and never come back." Morsereg smirked, pausing for a moment, "Yet we have everything to lose if we believe you. Who's to say you won't betray us, and move to kill us?"

Mavarion · Post by **Mavarion** » Fri Sep 15, 2006 7:37 am

((NPC Post))

The keeper was gripped by Krevster, his attention immediately snapping from whatever was pulling at him from the hole to Krevster's irritated face.

He began stammering the start of several sentences, but was unable to finish a single one. Finally, he took a step back as Krevster began examining the hole, not seeming to find anything out of the ordinary, other than a hole large enough for a person to wiggle into in the side of a crypt.

"Something..." the keeper paused, frowning as if trying to remember. "Something wanted me to..."

And then the cloak thumped down at Krevster's feet, and a new voice spoke.

Alalia wrote:“You would know that better than most, wouldn’t you, Darkheart?”

The keeper turned to the new voice, his jaw dropping as he realized that this was no human. His wide eyes took in the facial features of Alaila and the pointed ears, and he took an involuntary step back.

Suddenly another being appeared, as if from nowhere. Stepping from the shadows, he, for the keeper immediately saw it was a he, spoke as well. The keeper listened raptly, for something odd was definitely going on.

Morsereg wrote:Who's to say you won't betray us, and move to kill us?"

With those words, the keeper finally registered that he might be in danger from these three ... people. He didn't know what was going on, and he suddenly decided he didn't want to know. Taking a few, slow, quiet steps back from the three, he suddenly turned and ran across the cemetary, heading in the direction of the small outpost of guards stationed in Shim.

Shadowsong · Post by **Shadowsong** » Sun Sep 17, 2006 10:28 pm

It began to seem like we were getting somewhere.

Then the cat decided to get involved, with her marvellous sense of timing. From what Darkheart knew, it was in fact marvellous timing from the cat's perspective; the most inconveneient moment for Darkheart.

When Morsereg made himself known, that threw Krevster a bit. He half-expected Morsereg to be making the most of his concealment. On one hand, what Morsereg said made perfect sense, but it would make equal sense for him to be trying to discourage a percieved rival. Morsereg hoped to gain something from Darkheart, and likely had no wish to share with Alalia. This made more sense, otherwise he would not be trying to suggest that Alalia did not need help.

Being the paranoid sort that he was, Krevster moved to keep both Alalia and the keeper within sight. In this situation he still trusted that Morsereg was an ally. This was entirely different to trusting Morsereg by the way.

Of course, the keeper decided to try and get out of the mercenary's field of vision. This made Krevster adjust and move further. When the graveskeeper ran, someone was handy for this kind of situation.

With a swift nod implying acceptance, Darkheart spoke with the crisp voice of command. 'Alalia, catch him and bring him back alive. Injured is fine.' She did have the option of using this as a bargaining chip, but few people stopped to think before obeying Krevster's orders, and the old man would not hold much value if he got away.

Post by **Alalia Morrigan** » Tue Sep 19, 2006 12:58 am

Alalia turned her gaze to Morsereg when he spoke, baring her fanged teeth to show her displeasure at his statement. However, the quick movement to her side, followed by Darkheart’s command distracted her from the vampire. Setting the bottle down at the guard’s feet, she took off after the old man. She ran practically doubled over, her tail lashing about to keep her balance. As she chased the man, she pulled off her gloves with her teeth and flexed her fingers, extending her claws.

As she gave pursuit, the cat-girl felt animal instincts bubbling up inside her. She wanted to pounce on the feeble creature fleeing her, feel her claws slice through its skin and muscle, devour it’s still warm intestines. Her senses seemed heightened as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her ears were flicked forwards as she listened to her quarry’s heartbeat, nostrils flared and took in the pungent scent of fear, lean predatory muscles rippled under human flesh.

As she steadily gained, Alalia leapt onto one of the taller grave markers. Gauging the distance between herself and the man, her muscles coiled and bunched, preparing to spring. Injured was fine, was it? Well, then, she was going to have some fun. It would be a pity if the old man died of a heart attack, but accidents happened, didn’t they. Running her tongue over her pointed teeth, she smirked, then launched herself into the air in a feral pounce.

Morsereg Dindaedel · Post by **Morsereg Dindaedel** » Sat Sep 23, 2006 3:48 am

"Was that wise?" Morsereg asked, leaning down to pick up the bottle. He passed his eyes over it slowly before holding it out for Darkheart to take. "I'm unsure if she can hold back her primal instincts long enough to capture someone and bring him back alive." He scoffed, eyes following Alalia as she followed the man in pursuit.

"He'll be brought back, yes. But somehow, I doubt he'll be in any condition to be of use to us. Either he'll be scarred in ways that will prevent him from talking or she'll scare him so much his heart will give way." Morsereg grimaced, leaning against a grave marker. "Do you think we'll be able to trust her?" His eyes locked with Darkheart's for a moment. "If she does bring him back in a useful condition, I mean."

Mavarion · Post by **Mavarion** » Sun Sep 24, 2006 11:46 pm

((NPC Post))

The keeper ran. His age hampered him, he knew, but he knew the graveyard like no other. He had worked here for decades, since his early 20's. Fear lent his feet wings.

Dodging between gravestones, behind crypts and leaping half-dug graves, the keeper ran. One glance over his shoulder showed him the cat-woman was catching him, and fast. He dodged left again, then immediately right, behind another crypt, then right again and just missed tripping into an open grave. He leapt at the last second, landing awkwardly on the other side, but managing to keep his feet. He stumbled along for a few steps before righting himself, and again threw a look over his shoulder.

She was flying through the air at him, and he had nowhere to go. He turned to fend her off with his hands and arms, a useless gesture, but instinctual. A scream rose in his throat, a cry for help that was cut short as Alalia hit him.

"HEEEELLLL ... "

He tumbled to the ground, the exquisite pain from claws puncturing his arms and shoulders alien to a man whose only major pains before this moment had been muscle stiffness from a long day of digging graves. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and his lungs sucked in long pulls of air. Despite his age, the constant hard work had kept him fit, and his heart was far from giving out.

However, shock set in quickly, and the keeper shivered on the ground, staring up at Alalia.

Shadowsong · Post by **Shadowsong** » Tue Sep 26, 2006 6:16 pm

Morsereg Dindaedel wrote:"Was that wise?"

Shrug. Trying to convey a shrug through armour was interesting. Regardless, he accepted the bottle offered. It felt better knowing the bottle of blade venom was no longer in the paws of that damnable feline.

Morsereg Dindaedel wrote:"Do you think we'll be able to trust her?" His eyes locked with Darkheart's for a moment. "If she does bring him back in a useful condition, I mean."

A cynical grin answered that question. 'Trust? Really?' Morsereg seemed the sort who would share in that brand of humour, although the way those eyes locked warned that the vampire was being serious.

'My concern is the man could expose us. Chasing down fleeing prey appears to be her specialty.' Noting the agility with which the cat-girl was moving, 'What state he comes back in is a secondary consideration.'

While the two fellows were having a charmingly civil conversation, the gravekeeper was being chased by an unholy cat-human hybrid. The swordsman moved so not to lose them. 'Besides, who said we're keeping her? I just don't want the old man escaping while we decide.'

Then, a beautiful, musical sound carried through the stillness of the night.

"HEEEELLLL ... "

There was a muffled thwack, 'Thank you. Well done.' declared the warrior, confident the noise was indeed Alalia landing on the gravekeeper. The congratulations was also her signal to stop.

Realising Morsereg's warning, Darkheart ran towards the broken cry. The old man would be far more use alive. 'Alalia, alive!' he reminded, barking that instruction with a harsh voice that so-reliably cut through the haze of bloodlust like a razor. As he neared them, he slowly dragged his sword mostly clear, the motion carefully hidden by the face of his shield. That sword was not intended to be used, but it came in handy in cases like this to have a blade in hand.