Post by Serenity on Jun 20, 2012 23:33:18 GMT -5
(An adventure for members of the Noctis Venator, but anyone may join if they wish.)
It was after dark in Wistvale, a warm wind kicked up the dust and debris as it passed through the town streets. All was quiet around the harbor save for the occasional chime of a ship's bell. The lanterns rocked back and forth against the wind, the last of which just being lit by Wistvale's guardians.
A few sentinel patrols still roamed the near vacant streets, with a few shambling drunks from the pub teetering toward their homes. A fairly average night for Wistvale, unless....
"You see the old codger drunk out of his ass again in the alley behind the pub and caressing the bottom of the garbage can like it were the finest piece in all the land?"
"Aye, never gets old that."
A fairly average night in Wistvale.
Then two finely dressed gents walked up the gates.
"A fine night to you," the gentleman said as he passed by the guard standing by the gate, tipping his top hat as he did.
"A fine night indeed." said the other gent who stood right by the other.
They were both dressed in black, suit and all, with bow-tie, matching top-hats, dress shoes, and black gloves. The only thing that wasn't matching about their attire is that one appeared to be wearing an eye patch over his left eye.
"Hold up, gentlemen," said one of the sentinels, "I must ask that you state your names and business in Wistvale." His companion stood firm with him.
"Our business?" the stranger said, looking to his mate rather bemused.
"Our business?" the other replied in a similar matter.
They stared at each other without speaking, but with their hands rubbing their chins in an identical matter as they thought on how to respond to the guards.
The sentinels looked just as confused, but the soldier repeated his demand more firmly, "Yes, your names and business here in Wistvale."
The two turned awkwardly toward the guards and tipped their hats simultaneously.
"My apologies."
"Yes we do apologize."
The sentinel shook his head and sighed, "Your names, sirs? If you don't comply I will take you down to our headquarters."
"Yes, yes, I understand. My name is Walter, Walter Fairgreen, at your service," he accented his introduction with a bow.
"And I am Roger, Roger Bacon, at your service," he bowed at perfect length next to his companion who with, simultaneously, brought their heads back up.
The sentinel felt more at discomfort with them then he did before, but so long as they were complying, being strange wasn't enough to arrest them.
"And your purpose in Wistvale this late at night?"
"Our purpose?"
"Yes, our purpose..."
The stranger with the eye patch, Roger, began to rustle through his coat pocket while Walter spoke up again.
"We're here to visit our colleagues, the Noctic Venator. They are here, yes?"
The sentinel seemed a bit taken back that the visitor now started to make sense, "Yes, funny group of mages and the like, just opened up a new building here recently."
Roger finally removed his hand from his coat and materialized an odd looking rock that emitted an unnatural purple light.
"Good. Oh, And we're here to return this girl to her family," Walter said.
The guards became startled then, and readied their weapons.
"That's, that's a damned soul stone!"
"She really misses her family," Roger said with an unnatural smile. His hand began to glow red, and crackling energies wrapped around the soul stone. Then came the ear splitting howl of a tortured woman, that rung throughout Wistvale.
It was after dark in Wistvale, a warm wind kicked up the dust and debris as it passed through the town streets. All was quiet around the harbor save for the occasional chime of a ship's bell. The lanterns rocked back and forth against the wind, the last of which just being lit by Wistvale's guardians.
A few sentinel patrols still roamed the near vacant streets, with a few shambling drunks from the pub teetering toward their homes. A fairly average night for Wistvale, unless....
"You see the old codger drunk out of his ass again in the alley behind the pub and caressing the bottom of the garbage can like it were the finest piece in all the land?"
"Aye, never gets old that."
A fairly average night in Wistvale.
Then two finely dressed gents walked up the gates.
"A fine night to you," the gentleman said as he passed by the guard standing by the gate, tipping his top hat as he did.
"A fine night indeed." said the other gent who stood right by the other.
They were both dressed in black, suit and all, with bow-tie, matching top-hats, dress shoes, and black gloves. The only thing that wasn't matching about their attire is that one appeared to be wearing an eye patch over his left eye.
"Hold up, gentlemen," said one of the sentinels, "I must ask that you state your names and business in Wistvale." His companion stood firm with him.
"Our business?" the stranger said, looking to his mate rather bemused.
"Our business?" the other replied in a similar matter.
They stared at each other without speaking, but with their hands rubbing their chins in an identical matter as they thought on how to respond to the guards.
The sentinels looked just as confused, but the soldier repeated his demand more firmly, "Yes, your names and business here in Wistvale."
The two turned awkwardly toward the guards and tipped their hats simultaneously.
"My apologies."
"Yes we do apologize."
The sentinel shook his head and sighed, "Your names, sirs? If you don't comply I will take you down to our headquarters."
"Yes, yes, I understand. My name is Walter, Walter Fairgreen, at your service," he accented his introduction with a bow.
"And I am Roger, Roger Bacon, at your service," he bowed at perfect length next to his companion who with, simultaneously, brought their heads back up.
The sentinel felt more at discomfort with them then he did before, but so long as they were complying, being strange wasn't enough to arrest them.
"And your purpose in Wistvale this late at night?"
"Our purpose?"
"Yes, our purpose..."
The stranger with the eye patch, Roger, began to rustle through his coat pocket while Walter spoke up again.
"We're here to visit our colleagues, the Noctic Venator. They are here, yes?"
The sentinel seemed a bit taken back that the visitor now started to make sense, "Yes, funny group of mages and the like, just opened up a new building here recently."
Roger finally removed his hand from his coat and materialized an odd looking rock that emitted an unnatural purple light.
"Good. Oh, And we're here to return this girl to her family," Walter said.
The guards became startled then, and readied their weapons.
"That's, that's a damned soul stone!"
"She really misses her family," Roger said with an unnatural smile. His hand began to glow red, and crackling energies wrapped around the soul stone. Then came the ear splitting howl of a tortured woman, that rung throughout Wistvale.