West Haven Incident

[marriv]

The year is 783 PGW, rule of the sixth crown's second line. The continent has settled, Gaia's wrath has been dormant for five centuries. Order and law has been established in most of the known world. Many border and deep settlements and cities still war and suffer the ravages of the wilderness and eachother.
PGW - Post Great War - A millenia long war that tore a nation apart, sundered counrties at their foundation and left most of modern civilization in ruins.
Gaia's Wrath - Natural Phenomenon - A blood or lifeforce from the very earth itself that acts in unpredictable ways when the earth feels threatened or is severaly wounded, it will exact revenge and pass judgement on the inhabitants in the area. An occurance has not been recorded in over five hundred years.
To this date the deep points of the compass have yet to be fully charted, many wonders and terrors are still shrouded in mystery. Great demons and demo-gods still roam the untamed, Arul-Dyhn ruins riddle the country-side. Unfortunately, wilderness raids have began to increase and become more destructive every time. Cititzens have fled to the core cities for protection, many ghost towns mark borders between different countries and the wild. Many fear another occurance of Gaia, and so other countries have all but closed borders and relations have become poor, expansions have become awkward and unfortunately confusing, leading to proxy wars by settling forces after the same part of land. To date, the five great nations have surrounded the lesser nations and attempted to reach farther into the wild, only to be met with resistance.
Arul-Dyhn - Lore - A former civilization that existed prior to the last known empires. The material and construction has not been used by any other society. Dating puts several millenia between it and the second oldest known civilization.


Real time, West Haven
The busy market was filled with the din of chatter from bartering commoners and merchants. People hustled and bustled outside, but inside, even in the middle of the day many congregated in the shadows of the low lit bar, The Red Moon Tavern. Amongst them was a new customer, a tall and lanky elf. He glanced around and breathed through his mouth, the smell of poor alcohol and greasy drunks stinging his nose. He walkedto the far side where the shadows were darkest and handed the letter to the man guarding the entrance to the private parlors. He had not had trouble finding his way here, the person behind all of this had painted the crest of a dragon in a crescent moon on the door, then arrows to the back. The same symbol was at the bottom of the piece of paper, so a quick guess said it was his admission. He walked past and sat in a seat of the indicated table.

[Shorik]

A young man with a multitude of navy blue tattoos entered the Red Moon Tavern. He looked fairly average, yet there was soemthing about him that seemed different from the other men around him. His name was Hikaro, and he was here for buisness.

The man had recieved a letter informing him of a job he was to learn of here. The letter also explained the job was mandatory, not that it really mattered to Hikaro. He walked over to the entrance of the private parlours, where a guard stood. The door he was guarding had the same synmbopl as the one on Hikaro's letter. Common sense told him this was the place, and he handed the letter over, being granted access to a table which was already populated by an elf. Sitting down, Hikaro felt more relaxed. Not because of the elf next to him, or because he had gotten here with ease. No... the private parlours were in a darker area of the tavern, and in darkness, Hikaro always felt calmer, and sometimes even stronger.

[Tusk]

" So this is the place? "
A half elf said as he walked to the Red Moon Tavern. Taverns were usually not the place the cleric was seen at, however, this time was diffrent. He had received a strange letter with the same seal on it and was told to meet there. Why Davean was approached, he did not know, but at the same time felt that he needed to check it out. He slowly entered, his armor left on his horse and his Cleric robes were on with his holy symbol at his side. Full armor at the momment was simply not needed. The smells of alcohol and cheap food rilled the air. Drunks were a dime a dozen and they stumbled about. However Davean did feel a simple happiness about this place and that made him less nervous. The last time he entered a place like this, he was constantly stopped by drunks who called him the holy man.

He walked through the Tavern, trying not to get noticed by the drunks and soon saw where he was suppost to go. It was a table occupied by two other men. One was an elf , and the other looked human and had many tattoos. None seemed to be talking. The Cleric did not show his uneasiness. He prefered a more peaceful place. However He knew he must be here and therefore he sat down. The Darkness was a little unsettling, but he muttered a small prayer to Tor and soon felt better about it. The other two still did not say a word, but Davean was never the type to just sit around in silent awkwardness.
" Hello there. My name is Davean. It is safe to assume we all have gotten the same message. May I ask who you two might be? "
Simple Icebreaker. He only hoped it worked not hindered.

[GnomesAteMyCake]

Staring down at the letter in her hand, Urd Dahlen still couldn't believe that she'd left the solitude of her home just because some stranger had sent her a letter telling her to. She never did anything other people told her too. Sometimes it was with good reason, since it could possibly put their own miserable life in danger, especially when she was the reaper... but most of the time she just hated being surrounded by other people, and it was easier to do her own thing and egnore other people than go about giving them her life story.
She pushed the heavy wooden door to The Red Moon Tavern open, the smell of stale beer and human scent overwhelming her senses as she stepped into the dark and cramped bar. Snorting as she watched a bar-girl lean over a patron to 'pass him his drink', she looked down at her letter again and plowed through the crowd to the door that lead to the private quarters. People bounced off her, but no-one really said anything. After all, she was just the weird creepy woman who lived in the edge of town who no-one saw, and no-one cared about. And that's how Urd liked it.
Handing the letter at the guard at the door without looking at him, she shoved the door open and stalked into the room, her corse black hair swaying slightly in the gust opening the door caused. She slammed the door shut behind her and looked to see who was already there, if anyone. There were three men inside; one was an elf, one was a human, and the other was a perverted mix of the two. Wonderful.
Breathing heavily through her nostrils, Urd walked past all three of them and took the chair farthest away from the group, and lent her chair against the wall, and crossed her arms across her chest. Whatever the hell reason I'm here, it'd better not have me going off on some jolly journey across the land, she mused to herself, propping one of her feet on the edge of the table, her steely grey eyes honed on the door. I can't risk coming across any more evil souls. I've had enough of this, I just want out...

[PsychoKath]

Taiaynx Delbaeth surveyed the inn with her flaming eyes from the comfort of a small table in the back, from here she could see everything that was going on with no trouble whatsoever. Tapping her fingers on her staff, she waited.

Delbaeth hadn't been to West Haven since the day that her stupidity changed her life forever- and the fact that she was in an inn at the moment was helping her repress the awful memories. But with her large mistake came a helluva lot of power. And was...... nice.

[Shorik]

A man who was obviously a cleric came to the table, and muttered a prayer. Hikaro wondered if the prayer was for the presence of darkness. That led him to wonder why people feared Darkness so much. Sure, many evil deeds were done by those who sided with it.. but evil deeds were also done by holy men, too. As Hikaro saw it, Light and Darkness were just tools. How they were used all depended on their wielder.

In any case, the Cleric decided to introduce himself as Davean, and as with any introduction, he asked the identities of Hikaro and the elf. Hikaro was just about to give the Cleric what he wanted, when a black-haired woman walked in, and took a seat with them. There was something off about her, but Hikaro couldn't tell what exactly. He'd probably find out in due time, though.

"Greetings, Davean." he responded to the Cleric, appearing friendly, "The name's Hikaro."

[marriv]

OOC: Please remember to wait for your turn Shorik, and everyone else, make a note too.

[Vale]

Lord Ryven was tired of games, or at least it seemed that way when he stood outside the Tavern. It was strange, all of it was. The man had tracked down Silabus Ryven, and vanished, only leaving a letter addressed to the Scourge.

It made little sense, and normally such things would not have bothered the mute man, as they would just be something else in his strange life. One more to tack on meant nothing, although...something was different about this one. Why was he so motivated to go into this Tavern?

Hazily gazing down to the letter to him, he walked into the Tavern, and almost burned down the place due to his anger of these drunkards...such cretins, they deserved no sympathy from the slaughter. There were no emotions from a lion and to the dirtied filth of sheep. That's all these drunks were...sheep awaiting their slaughter.

That signet?
Ryven gazed over to the Dragon Crescent, the same on the letter.


Heading into the back he noticed others around him. Clerics, Fighters...regardless.
There were no deals between Beasts and Men.

[Eva]

Karla examined the many fresh fruits available before her in the market place, gently swinging her empty basket as she did so. On her hip was her treasured Wo Dao, shining in the bright sun for any overzealous thief to take a reach for. After finding a few delicious-looking citruses, Karla paid the fruitseller and went about on her way. Another peaceful day, and if it weren't for the letter, Karla would be perfectly content with West Haven. Swaying her hips to the sound of her footsteps, Karla's eyes landed on the tavern she was to be in and entered.

[PsychoKath]

OOC: sorry about the utter crappiness of my post- prom is saturday so i'm running around like a mad woman.. rest assured that a better post is coming- but i don't wanna post it now in the fear of matt ripping my head off ( ; ] ) so i'm just gonna wait and do it once the cycle is done or whatever..

[marriv]

OOC: No problem, although I ask for quality I can forgive you considering the circumstances. I'll await your post.

The elf sighed and kept a small distance from everyone.
"Quallion.. of the Tir-Mygal clan," he said curtly, looking off to the side.
He felt at odds with the priestly one, his magic aura foreign to him, and the fighter was a being of a whole different world. His cold eyes fell on the only one to yet pose any significance, the lesser immortal. The moment his eyes locked hers, he could only feel annoyance at her very existance. If the cleric was foreign, the woman opposite him was alien.
The whole time, he intentionally ignored the abomination would-be evil dragon that looked down on him with the same distaste as the woman had.
The mage bit his tongue and spaced out, thinking of his studies.

[TragicAce]

It had been twenty years ago since Sigeric last took foot in the once modest frontier town that was New Haven. The Orodor chapel was little more than a glorified shed beside the blacksmith, and all the faces were so young. Men and women seeking for opportunity and adventure in the uncharted West were a brave lot. Frontier children were horrendously stubborn and self-reliant, if the once 19-year old captain could recall. Forcing them to throw away their pride and cooperate, pounding them into the dirt with training until they began to see things his way. Some paint stubbornness as an affable quality to have. Stubbornness in battle only got your men killed. How many hardheaded commanders had Sigeric seen lose most of their company as they refused to yield and kept holding ground against a pointless struggle? No amount of honor was worth the life of a soldier.

The high-walled city the paladin was now in held little memory of the past. West Haven had started to fashion itself the core city in the West, undergoing constant building and expansion. Those boys and girls had to grow up some time, Sigeric mused. Was he expecting to see them again, all in formation waiting for orders? A foolish dream for a simpler life. And was life back then ever so simple without any of the politics, lies, sabotages and murders that Sigeric underwent and committed as he grew older. But that was then and this-looking down at the letter in his hand-was now. He had questions for the writer of this message, many questions. While in these last seven years he had been officially off the radar of the Church, he was still keeping very busy in what was going on in the world. Politics never left him, it seemed. A symbol imprinted on the letter-a dragon in a crescent moon and arrows-was not familiar to the paladin.

After being called out by a couple of whores and being eyed-down by a pickpocket who decided it not worth the risk Sigeric made it to the Red Moon Tavern. While it wasn’t in the best quality or condition it was rather crowded for the daytime. Nobody here seemed to be suspicious, but there were a pair of men trying hard not to be. He could tell in a glance. Orodor agents-straight from Berwick. What they were doing here could mean many things, but that didn’t stop him from guessing. A door with the same symbol as the letter appeared behind that of an armed guard. It would likely be that the letter was a token of admittance. The guard looked professionally trained, likely he’d have better luck questioning the barkeeper. Sigeric never went into a situation without any previous knowledge, not if he could help it.

“I need to know who has entered that room.” With a couple of silver coins trading hands, the barkeep’s tongue loosened and Sigeric took a seat at the bar like any other patron. “Aye, a stranger lot I hadn’t seen. There be a tall elf, a heavily tattooed man, a priest of some such, and let’s see here…a large woman who frightened the daylights out of me, a red haired lass in crimson robes, and well...a man looking an awful lot like Lord Ryven if’n ye asked me, and last a foreign girl. Sure like to know what’s going on in there.”

“Aye, me as well. You’ve a good memory barkeeper, and you have my thanks.” Sigeric proceeded to enter the room with its odd inhabitants. “Not a bad fit for me, then.”

[PsychoKath]

Delbaeth took a breath before rising from her seat to go and introduce herself to the others, her steps were heavy in apprehension of revealing herself- no one could every be sure how people would react to her. When the faces turned up to her she pulled the hood of her crimson robes off of her head to reveal her straight red hair, and even worse, her eyes that marked her as what she was. Of course, no one exactly knew what that is, but as far as Delbaeth could tell everyone at the table had the best intentions- and none had yet lied about who they were. That was a plus.

Not that any of them could tell since she had no iris, but her eyes darted all over the place constantly to make sure that she missed nothing, taking in every detail of the appearance of those in front of her- including their reactions to her appearance and, no doubt, the sash tied around her tiny waist. No doubt their minds were telling them that no way a 25 year old woman had gained her Mastery and was a member of the Mages High Circle. Though, she had to admit, she did have an advantage most didn't have- her 'Mastery' lived inside her.

"I am Delbaeth," her clear voice announced," It is a pleasure to meet your accquaintance." Watching them all as her eyes constantly darted, she took one of the few remaining seats at the table and sat tall.

[Vale]

'Lord Ryven' Just stood there, his arms crossed as he gazed around the room lazily. When people's eyes landed on him, he just lifted up his hand. Apparently, whatever the ring that he wore, was enough to let people know who he 'was'.

It was the Signet Ring of Lord Sylabus Ryven, apparently the man that the dracomancer killed and shifted into was at least of some power. Or at least reputation, but one thing couldn't shake 'Lord Ryven' as he looked at the mage stare directly at him.

Perhaps this mage had a bit more to him than the Lord had thought possible. He couldn't possibly know who he was, let alone how old he might have been. Even 'Ryven' didn't know that. He had no real concept of time anyways, some days he'd be the Scourge of West Haven, other days he'd be 'Lord Ryven'
Still...this mage....he was someone worth fighting....perhaps even good enough to waste his words on.

[Weremouse]

Anwen slowly got out of her bed, looking around to see the now almost familiar cottage. She rubbed her eyes. She had no idea what time it was - she felt like she'd slept for ages but was still so...tired. Normally when she went out to have something to eat, she'd leave her staff behind, but today, she had the inclination to take it with her. She felt like she'd need it.

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, she felt homesick for the cottage she was still standing in. Half-dressed, she fell back onto the bed, hugging the covers, taking in the feel and smell of her abode. Just as soon as her homesickness came, it went.

She left her cottage and headed onto the streets, clutching her staff. She walked the route to the cafe where she usually had breakfast, but an unfamiliar building caught her eye - a tavern. She didn't even know if she was allowed in a place like that, being so young. She decided to take a chance and have bar food for breakfast. She entered the tavern - most of the place seemed typical, except for a table at the back. She made her way towards the table. She grew uneasy - the people there, she felt bonded to them, but at the same time, didn't know how to talk to them. She sat down at a table next to theirs, keeping her eyes on them. She ordered a plate of food and a beer - which unfortunately wasn't cold enough. She picked up the glass and focused for a second, soon the glass was covered in fog from its coldness. She kept one eye trained on the table next to her and waited to see what happened next..