Wrought from the Coffin IC

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    BiscuitMann

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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by BiscuitMann on Tue Mar 26, 2013 4:13 pm

    I blinked, stared at Leon and then blinked again, well that escalated quickly. So not only is Leon fast to accept a situation, but there are more people like me and Leon knows one of them. What kind of god trickery is dictating this bizarrely coincidental scenario. I shook my head, "I'm not sure that I'm ready to meet this person just yet, but I will meet him in the future. Just tell me how to get a hold of you and then we can arrange a time and a place to meet." I Crossed my arms and looked at Leon from head to toe, how did this little emaciated kid meet a vampire like myself? it seems almost an impossibility unless there is some otherworldly presence guiding peoples actions like in the ancient stories from before the foundation of the church.

    Remembering that Leon was here for a reason, I walked over to the edge of the workbench and fished out two smudge sticks from the meager pile of spell regents I had. Walking back over to Leon, I stood in front of him and held the two smudge sticks out to him, "I would be careful about giving these to your uh…associate." As Leon wrapped his hand around the herb bundle, I grabbed his wrist. "Be careful, smudge sticks are powerful regents and they can be used in some extremely nasty spells. I would suggest asking him what he intends to use them for before you give them to him." I released Leon's wrist and stood up. At least the smudge sticks I gave him have rather potent hallucinogenic properties attached to them, I hope that messes up whatever spell that vampire is trying to cast.

    "Oh, and don't mention that you met me alright. I'm not sure I want people to know that I'm back in case they react in a more violent manner than you. That also goes for the vampire that you met," I want to have a plan to fall back on in case he isn't friendly to me."
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    Elit3Fla5h

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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Tue Apr 30, 2013 5:25 pm

    The sound of clashing steel rang through the alley way like thunder with sparks as the lightning. This well above average strength man was swinging his weapon at me with speed that was more fitting to a dagger than a long sword and it was all I could do to Block.
    Parry
    Block
    Block
    Dodge
    Parry
    Dodge
    No room for a counter attack unless I wanted to taste the bite of his steel.
    Block
    Block
    Block
    Dodge
    This was getting nowhere. In the split second in between attacks I took a glance at the mans’ face and felt a small blow to my moral. He was not so much as sweating let alone breathing hard; his face still as stone betraying no emotion save for annoyance. I myself was starting to lose my breath, the strain of keeping up with someone faster than me taking its toll on my body.
    Block
    Parry
    Parry
    If I wanted to walk away from this I needed to beat this guy and soon. I gritted my teeth as I tried to formulate plan while warding off this avalanche of steel. Strong build, fast, single weapon, experience, personal fighting style, corpse, empty alley way, bag of nails, cloak, cloths, single weapon, throwing ax, dagger, resilience unknown, Advantages- vampire. I gritted my teeth; the only remotely advantages thing on my side was my vampire toughness and the only way to take advantage of that would to get hit.
    Parry
    Dodge
    Dodge
    My arms were now burning from the exertion and I could tell I was slowing down. I inwardly sighed, “Got to work with what you got.” I hardened my face and resolve for one last push and began to retreat back to the wall; preparing myself for one final push against this beast of a man. Slowly I made my way backwards my assailant giving no hint of slowing, and then… my heel stepped on the blade of the hatchet and I lost my footing. I fell to a knee and put my right hand out to stop from falling forward my sword in my left and his whizzing at my right. In a desperate attempt I threw my sword hand right and knocked successfully knocked away his sword, put in the process overextending myself. Not missing a beat the man spun around and sent his weapon at my left, knowing there was no way I could block this strike with my weapon. My smile crept onto my face as the sword whizzed at me head.
    Got you.
    My left arm left my blade to my right and went to meet the mans with a wet “schluck” and a dull thud as it sank long ways into my flesh and stopping at the bone. With my left I grabbed the guard of his sword and plunged mine at the man with my right. He twisted out of the way of my blade and grabbed the hilt of his with both hands, I watched as his great muscles flexed and I casually let go of the blade. The unexpected loss of resistance and his pulling set him stumbling back off balance towards the corpse of his friend. With a smirk on my face I hurled my sword at him with my right and grasped a leather grip behind me with me left. Just as planned he deflected the sword, just as planned he stumbled over the body of his friend, and just as planned he was too distracted and off balance to deflect his ax. It made satisfying thud as it implanted itself in his skull.
    I got up from the ground with a groan and looked at the intense burning pain that was now my right arm. There was now a very deep gash from the blade of my hand down to my elbow where it had caught the blade. It was bleeding profusely but I would have to say this gash was a cheap price to pay to get out of this alive. I looked away from my arm and to the corpses with a smile. “I’m going to enjoy draining you.” I say with contempt. Ignoring the pain in my arm I walked over to claim my hard earned prize.


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    Ippy
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Wed May 01, 2013 11:54 pm

    Leon
    The boy took the smudge sticks in hand, looking downward towards the dusty basement floor. He let out a quick laugh. “Nasty spells? Heh, I’m kind of counting on that.” Leon’s face flashed mischievously before turning solemn. “But you don’t want me to tell anyone? That’s not fair, Little Rum really liked you. Now I can barely get him to laugh.” It would be so nice to see a happy Little Rum again, maybe Borris could do that much. Then again, how do you explain vampires? Godric had told Leon a lot, but Leon couldn’t imagine trying to tell it to the others. What would they think? Would they let the secret slip?

    Probably. Borris was looking a little guilty. “Sorry, again. I’ll keep you a secret, but… well everyone misses you.” Leon turned about and began heading up the stairs. “If you want to see me again, leave that broken chair upstairs in the clearing ‘bout 300 lengths east of the orphanage. I pass by there a lot, I’ll see it eventually.”
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    BiscuitMann

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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by BiscuitMann on Thu May 02, 2013 4:27 pm

    I felt my heartstrings tug as I watched Leon trudge dejectedly up the stairs leading out of the basement. I really don't want to hurt him but what can I do? I can't go out yet until I have some plan to fall back to if things go to hell. I sighed as I heared the door at the top of the stairs swing shut and Leon's footsteps receding from the back of the house. I looked back at the various ingredients on my table from my failed attempts to make any headway with the potions and sighed. Why have today's events gone so sour? they started off great after I discovered that I was alive but they seem to have gone to shit once life caught up to me. I put my elbows on the table and my head in my hands as I sighed again.

    In a moment of irrational frustration, I swept my arm across the table, knocking all the ingredient on to the floor and breaking a glass vial. Reaching past the the table to a compartment embedded in the wall I grabbed the handle and ripped the cover off. I stared at the broken cover in my hand for a moment before tossing it over my shoulder as I reached for the bottle that was sitting on the shelf.

    "Hello old friend, did you miss me?" I said as I unstoppered the cap and put it to my lips. I felt the fire burn on my lips as the fiery liquid slid down my throat. I wobbled back to the chair as I stared at the container in my hands, recalling the old brewmaster who had given it to me as payment for ridding him of a pair of quite bloodthirsty spirits who he had somehow managed to get attached to him. The bottle was an alcohol bottle that would never empty due to the enchantments on it. Unfortunately for most people, the bottle only filled itself with absinthe, so the brewmaster had very little need for such a strong liquor in his store and was quite happy to give it up.

    I took another swig as I felt the warm bass start spreading to my fingertips, "Looks like I need to build up my tolerance again, this is hitting me faster than usual." Taking another swig, I placed the stopper in the bottle, the bottle on the table and watched as the bottle fell on its side and rolled to the wall. I rolled my head back to rest against the handpicked earth wall as I sated at the wooden floorboards above my. I felt my eye's getting heavy as the alcohol truly hit my system and I drifted off to sleeping the chair as the city around me began it's morning chores.
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    Elit3Fla5h

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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Fri May 24, 2013 7:00 pm

    I was annoyed to say the
    least. As I shuffled through the streets my attention was continually pulled to
    the terrible foot long gash in my arm. I let out a soft chuckle at my
    predicament. Vampires were supposed to be fabled monsters that took great hero’s
    to take down and here I was about to collapse from blood loss with a stomach
    full of it. I glanced down at my wound that I had now stopped bleeding from
    what I hope was because of the tourniquet and not from lack of blood.


    Great first day of my second life, barley 10 hours in
    and I am on deaths door…
    My body felt cold and heavy and my
    head was filled with fog.
    One more step... One more step.
    It was like a chant in my head that I dared not stop.
    One more step… one more s…
    “Sylvester?!?”
    Huh?
    I hear a distant voice call my name.
    That sounds so familiar…
    “Hey Sylvester, what the hell happened?!?”
    I blink a few times and raise my head to find… Hershal. My eyes widen a bit in
    surprise and I take a quick glance at my surroundings. This was indeed his
    house, I had made it. I bring my gaze back to the old man and put on my smile.
    “Heh, I made it.”
    And then darkness took me.

    ________________________________


    “You couldn’t stick me in a comfier coffin or at least give me a pillow? My
    neck is all stiff cause of that thing.” I rub the said area for emphasis as I
    look at the box I had awoken in.
    “Be happy I didn’t stick your ass back in the ground you ungrateful bastard! Do
    you know how hard it was to stuff you in that thing? You’re no light weight.”
    The old man retorted with a sour look on his face. He then nodded to the pink
    scar on my arm. “Care to tell me what happened out there?”
    “Just a miscalculation of the city, nothing too bad.” I shrug. “How long was I
    out?”
    The old man had a look that said that he wanted to say more before he shook his
    head and sighed. “Only about 15 minutes ya freak. 15 minutes ago you looked
    like a friggin zombie and now you look like you got up from a nap!”
    I laugh at his expression and stand up to stretch. Everything seemed in order
    and I indeed felt like I had just woken from a nap albeit an uncomfortable one.


    “Enough about my wonderful
    regenerative powers, you got the things I asked for together?” The sour look
    came across his face again before he jerked a thumb behind him.
    “There on the table, nothing new but in working condition along with some
    cloths.” I give him a nod in response
    and begin to shed my rags.
    “As long as they work I could care less about if they are shiny or not.”
    It took little less than three minutes to don my new cloths and gear. I now
    wore nice black pants and coat with a white button undershirt and brown belt. A
    long sword hang lazily on my left side and a small brown leather bag hang on my
    right.
    “Not bad.” I comment. “A little baggy but otherwise not bad.”
    “Sorry but the dead can only offer so much, you have a very uncommon size.” With
    a long tired sigh Hershal plops himself down in a chair a gestures to the “door”.
    “Now don’t you have some more framing to do or something?”
    At that a big smile comes across my face and I straighten my cloths. “Why I do
    believe you are right my friend, until next time.” Give him a nod and as dramatically as
    possible; don my cloak leave the house with a small chuckle from behind to see
    me off.


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    Nailo41

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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Nailo41 on Mon May 27, 2013 8:00 pm

    As I climbed up the stairs I finally saw a light that seemed to welcome me. I rushed forward only to trip the moment the night breeze touched my skin. As I landed I heard a crunch and immediately stood back up in panic. I looked down only to find that I had bent the blades of the grass. Why did such simple things cause me such worry? Had I been dead so long that my body doesn’t even recognize the nature of which I used to experience every day? Or was it just the fact that when I was alive these things were so common that I paid little to no attention to them? I looked up at what was illuminating the area just to see a giant white ball in the sky.
    “Sir Moon, why do I feel so lost in this world I once lived in? Am I just a stranger traveling through your kingdom or am I just no longer welcome in the land of which I had deemed to be mine one day.” Minutes went by as I stared at the moon waiting, hoping for some kind of reply. But the blank look it gave me only caused me more grief.
    As I was about to give up and just go back to lay in my crypt my ears began to twitch. I couldn’t make out this new sound, for I could only make out mere muffles. In a rush I headed straight for it. My body struggling to move as fast as I wished it to. The closer I got to this new noise the easier I began to recognize it as laughing.
    PEOPLE!!!!
    In a matter of seconds I hit the ground, screaming in pain. My mouth began salivating uncontrollably. I reached up to my mouth, the source of my agony. My canines felt as if they were growing. They reached more than twice there normal size. In the middle of my agony two figures approached me in haste. A young man and woman knelt down beside me trying to figure out what was wrong. They began speaking to each other, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying over my own screams. The girl left and I was left alone with the boy. Finally the pain stopped and the boy seemed to be offering me some type of liquid.
    Instincts took over before I realized what had happened. I lunged at the boy and my new found fangs sank into his neck. He screamed for a few seconds, but then he went quiet. Minutes past and the boy stopped twitching. This sensation was new, this sensation was exiting. Something wet hit my hand before I realized I was crying. Mixed feelings began feeling my head, but I knew only one thing was for sure. I wanted more.
    I searched the boy finding a dagger around his belt. The weapon felt small and pathetic, but it would have to do for now. With new found strength I dragged the boy towards my crypt. And placed him in a corner. As soon as I made my way back to the top I heard yelling followed by a scream. I think the girl found the trail of blood leading here. I hid behind some rubble and waited.
    “Miss, please stop.” A new male voice had said.
    “No, Johnny must be around here somewhere, he must be.” Said a panicky girl’s voice. “Quick, it leads in here, hurry!”
    Footsteps began going down the stairs. Heavy breathing soon could be heard as slow steps began walking down as well. This was my chance.
    “Help me.” I said as I hit the ground. Sooner than I had thought, I noticed boots near me. Hands began shaking me and a man’s voice began asking
    “Hey, hey are you Johnny. Come on, don’t give up on…”
    Before he could finish his sentence I plunged the dagger into this chest. The warm blood got my fangs excited once more, but what caused me the most pleasure was the look of sorrow in his eyes. Almost losing total control of myself I heard a scream coming from the tomb. I quickly headed down there knowing more food was waiting.
    Crying was all I could hear now and once I reached the bottom of the steps I knew why. She knelt there holding the dead corpse of her beloved. What was left of his blood now covered her dress. The lust for this girl now reached a new limit. Without any hesitation I ran at her. Before sinking my teeth into her, she managed to face me and her face was so sad. I’ll never know for sure, but before it was all over, I swear I had told this girl, “I’m sorry.”
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    Ippy
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Thu May 30, 2013 8:05 pm

    OOC:: I went ahead and mentioned the priest. If you still want to establish him/her as a character and post that scene/change it, let me know and I can change the details in this post.

    IC:: 8:21 AM

    Donden
    Donden stood atop the brick edge of a planter, casting his eyes over the morning crowd. He was scanning for Sylvester as he and Serras had decided to meet him prior to approaching the merchant’s household. Donden was rather surprised he had arrived before Sylvester, considering he had managed to get an up-and-coming priest of the age eleven to attempt the purification of Hershal’s home. Hershal had turned the boy back at the door, saying something along the lines that the kid should take his religion elsewhere if he didn’t want his life to be purified.

    Serras was also searching through faces for Sylvester. Now that Donden thought of it, she had been waiting for quite some time, and Donden didn’t have anything to say to her. Serras was below Donden, standing on the street rather than the planter, so she couldn’t see his mouth curl inward. He felt as if he should say something, he was at fault for her boredom and lost time. All that crossed his mind however was what he saw: a running rabbit, some arguing specters, Sylvester with a fresh change of clothes.

    Donden tapped Serras’s arm with the back of his fingers and stepped down from the planter, making his way towards the vampire. Serras let out a breath as she moved from her position. Even if Donden had been no help, at least her plight had ended. Donden raised his arm and called out to Sylvester. He was eager to be done with this; after he had covered for the vampire his part was over. When the three were in conversation distance Serras greeted the newcomer. “I hope your affairs proceeded pleasantly, Mr. Wainwright.”

    Sylvester thought for a moment before replying, “It all worked out,” with a smile.
    “I’m glad to hear. Shall we?” Serras’s hand stretched out to indicate the murdered merchant’s house. Donden concluded her to be just as eager to be done and gone as himself.
    “After you,” responded Sylvester, flourishing his hand similar to Serras’s.

    James Stratos
    James unlatched the straps of her gilded breastplate, revealing a thinly layered gold and azure riding dress. She had always found armor to be weighty and restrictive, but could not deny the importance of having a sheet of steel concealing your heart. Next she removed her helmet, setting it on Ginreed’s dining table. She recalled that the last time she had ate with the merchant there was a wonderful tablecloth depicting the forests of the Wild Land. The table was bare, now. Ginreed’s murderer had really taken the most valuable possessions.

    “M’Lady Jamie, I understand we’ve cleared the house, but if attackers decided to present themselves during your investigation…”
    James regarded the Day’s Watch officer who was speaking to her. She appreciated his concern, but she had no intentions of walking to and fro in this house wearing pounds of metal. “Then I got what’s coming for me.” The sharp, angular features of her face reorganized themselves into an amused smile. “But that won’t happen, ‘cause I have two seasoned guardsmen to protect me.”
    The guardsmen returned her smile, and one of them spoke. “Even then, we may not be in a position—”
    James raised her hand and waved it in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I can take an assassin or two without my armor. You guys handle the other six or whatever. I’m going to go take a look at some stuff I noticed, do what you want.” With that James whisked around a doorway, strands of lengthy hair matching her cousin’s color flowing behind her.

    As soon as she had, she heard the guard’s voice again. “Wait, M’Lady Jamie, we have visitors.” James didn’t like the sound of that, it sounded as if things were to be more complicated. Unfortunately she couldn’t just ignore it, so she turned back through the doorway. When she saw her new company, her face lighted. “Serras! What good things have you brought me? Who are these gentlemen?”
    “Lady Jamie, may I present—”
    “Serras, save the fancy for my cousin. Give it to me simple.”
    “Lord Eron hired a detective for Ginreed’s murder.” Serras put her palm up in front of Sylvester, and then moved it to Donden. “This night watchman, Donden, is Sylvester Wainwright’s escort.”

    James stared blankly at the trio. Sylvester Wainwright was the very man who had taught her family what detectives were. He was also the very man responsible for her father’s execution. Well, no, that was her family’s verdict, but Sylvester had started the sequence that led to her dad’s death. Her eyes darted to the ground and back again. She believed in her father, the wise Count Nerl von Stratos. He didn’t commit an unjustifiable murder. He wasn’t a part of some criminal plot, yet… the man vowed before a council of his own kin that he did. There had to be some secret, but what was worth his life and his family’s reputation?

    James had already given enough tears to the matter. It’s difficult to see through murky eyes. James hardly ever agreed with the things her aunt ranted on about, but she had to admit there was a pearl of wisdom every now and again within Aunt Merilee’s words. Her cousin was a wise too. She didn’t need to hate Sylvester, there was some other thing going on that deserved her hate. She just didn’t know what it was, and that was infuriating. Maybe Sylvester had valuable information, and that’s why Eron wanted him involved. In any case, James found herself grinning. “That so? Well I can’t let him pay you for doing my job, I’m hiring you now. You get to do my job while I watch you, silently, doing nothing. You, Night’s Watch, get to go home, you must be tired. And you, Serras, get to run errands for me all day long, so you won’t be able help out the Count today, got it?”

    Serras laughed, her complexion a bright contrast to the dark ebonwood walls. “Got it. My lady orders me to play with my little brother all day, and I shan’t skirt my duty. I hope your investigation goes well. Bye Jamie.” Serras waved her farewell before exiting the way she came.

    “I too shall take my leave then. I find myself in need of thanking you, my Lady, for as you conjectured, I am indeed tired. Thank you for your kind discharge.” Donden bowed before following Serras out.


    Last edited by Ippy on Mon Jun 03, 2013 3:27 pm; edited 1 time in total
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    Elit3Fla5h

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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Sat Jun 01, 2013 3:53 pm

    It felt nice to finally be in some clean cloths, it felt… normal. Here I was walking to a new job thirst quenched and despite my near second death experience earlier I was in a surprisingly good mood. Indeed It felt nice and my only hope was that this so called murder would make an interesting investigation for me. I began to hum a few random notes as I made my way through the thinning crowd to my destination when I saw the ranger from earlier and the girl Serras. I smiled and waved when the Ranger called out to me and proceeded to close the distance between when I felt… a tickle? A tingling sensation in the back of my head as I looked at the two.

    Strange


    “I hope your affairs proceeded pleasantly, Mr. Wainwright.” The girl said.
    Now that I was closer to them the tingling was much stronger, it didn’t feel bad per say, just strange.
    “It all worked out.” I reply with a vague answer, attention split between them and my musings.
    “I’m glad to hear. Shall we?” Serra’s hand stretched out to indicate the murdered merchant’s house. I glanced at the home and as expected it was a rather nice and expensive looking building. No broken windows or anything major out of place from the outside besides the standing guards.
    “After you.” I say with a smile and also gesturing to the house.
    By the time we made it to the front door the tingling in my head had now become a loud buzzing almost impossible to ignore. It felt like pressure was building up in my head and yet there was still no pain. Had I been drugged? Was it possible to drug a vampire? Then Serras grabbed the doorknob and my mind exploded.
    My mind was instantly assaulted by information of all kinds and it was dizzying. Huge amounts of smells ranging from the hundreds to thousands registered with me and then disappeared to be replaced with another thousand. The subtle shift in stance from the ranger that came with years of training, the minuet pulses of wrist movement from Serras that came with constant housework, all of it like a storm and then… it was gone. Gone with the blood that was just in my stomach.
    And she turned the knob and opened the door.
    The inside of the home was a sharp contrast to the outside. Where the outside had looked nice and comfy the inside seemed bare and devoid of only the most valuable things. Decay, hate, and corruption? hung so strong in the air of the home that it was almost choking. I subconsciously stood a little closer to Serras as she led us as to get some respite from this stench with her clean and pure scent. Whatever had happened in this house; it was quickly becoming apparent that this was not a normal murder/robbery.
    At least it is interesting.
    We were led to the dining room of the home which was also missing some of what I guessed was its most valuable pieces. It was here that I was introduced to woman called James and the woman I was sent to help in this investigation. She had a very pleasant scent about her fit for a lady with an undertone of several horses. She had a wide stance and tight muscles telling of speed rather than strength and something else, something magical. This woman new magic and judging from her aura it was of the healing variety.
    This lady was certainly not the stay at home and look pretty type.
    It was the quick flare of Hostility from James that brought me from my thoughts but it went as quickly as it came when she raised her head. In hindsight it was to be expected, I played a large part in her families fall from grace.
    “That so? Well I can’t let him pay you for doing my job, I’m hiring you now. You get to do my job while I watch you, silently,” she said to me with a smile and I intern smiled at the sentence, it would be nice to not have to explain my methods. The woman dismissed my escort and then it was just us and a few guards.
    “Well, shall we begin my lady?” With that said my smile dropped and without waiting for her reply I went to work.
    I started with the lock; the bodies if they were still here would be last. The lock was intact as expected and nothing seemed out of place to I turned my attention to the dirt on the floor. It looked more or less like the normal dirt and dust you would get from just walking around town except for the few dark specs. I reached into my cloak and pulled out tweezers and a glass vile. Being very careful I picked up a small dirt clump and gave it a sniff. It had the same smell of decay as the air in the house along with the distinct scent of a grave yard. I was beginning to get a bad feeling about this case. I collected what I could in the glass vile and corked it, returning it to my coat before standing up and walking the rest of the rooms on the ground floor. As it seemed only the lightest and most expensive things were missing from here. A few small pelts, expensive cloths that had probably decorated the now bare room corners and the table cloths. My walk ended in the kitchen, the least touched of the entire house and had the least amount of decaying stench. All the silverware was here along with the expensive looking dishes and plates. I followed the scent to a drawer and opened it. The knives inside were all neatly set side by side and there right in the middle was an empty spot. I made a mental note and closed the drawer before leaving the kitchen to finally head upstairs.
    “Oh my,” I said out loud in mild surprise at the sight. Out of the corner of my eye I saw James face go dark for instant. At the end of the hallway were two corpses of children, one a girl and the other a mutilated boy. The smell of blood was strong up here but not nearly as strong as I would have expected from my new enhanced sense. I looked at the corpses and then through the doorway to me right to find two more corpses in bed. I scratched my head a little bit in thought and decided to check out the couple in bed. With a gloved hand I moved their heads and hoped to find nothing… I was severely disappointed. Both of the bodies had knife wounds in the neck, both causes of death seemed to be blood loss and both bodies had a that very strong smell of decay concentrated around their necks.
    Just great.
    The human body had about 5 liters of blood give or take and the surrounding blood stained sheets had nowhere near half that. Even if the culprit was not a vampire and just collected the blood he would still need to suck out the rest after the people died to get the bodies this emaciated. My expression went from serious to bored with an undertone of annoyance now that I had come to this conclusion. I let out a sight and pinched the skin on my upper nose. Another vampire in the same city with kills the same day I resurrected. It would be a nice coincidence if those things actually existed. Wanting to be thorough I inspected the children’s bodied and rooms as well and found them in the same condition as the couple’s. Emaciated and all small valuables gone.
    I made my way back to the entrance of the house and took out the vile of dirt I had collected, I uncorked it with a *pop* and stuck my pinky and covered it a little bit with the dirt. I sniffed the vile and then tasted the dirt on my pinky. As I thought my taste had also been enhanced by my sense of smell and what I tasted, tasted awful. This soil was defiantly from a corpse and a mostly decomposed one at that. I returned the vile back into my cloak opened the door to the outside.
    “Follow me,” I called behind me in a monotone voice as I left. I stood outside a bit and took a deep breath.
    There is it.
    And began a casual walk down the street, following the scent like a bloodhound. Here I expected James to say something but surprisingly she stayed silent through the trip. It was for the best, it would be better to explain what I expected to be there was actually there.
    It was a 20 minute walk to the destination and what we found was indeed what I expected and more. A dug up grave with the same sent as both the soil and decay in the house along with the corpse of a large man assumed to be the keeper of this specific grave yard. This corpse had two holes in his neck as opposed to the others and a different scent on him. A scent that was not in the house at all and led off into a completely different direction. I sighed again and reached into my cloak and pulled out some rolled tobacco and lit it. I took a deep breath of the smoke exhaled slowly before sitting on the grave stone of the open hole in the ground.
    “Tell me my lady, what were the names of those killed and was there anything specific taken from his home? You seem to have known the man somewhat in life.”



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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Mon Jun 03, 2013 4:27 pm

    James Stratos
    Grey earth crunched beneath James's rawhide boots. The land was dead in this graveyard, making trips to deceased loved ones all that more somber. House Stratos buried their own dead, but James felt there was something special about being buried next to a stranger. She wanted to be buried that way, but, she also didn't want to betray her family. She never knew what to do, so she continued to follow Sylvester until he came to a stop.

    James could see how her father was found out by this man. A few minutes at Ginreed's house, and he already was on a trail. He didn't look at much besides some bodies and some dirt (tasted it even), and now James was standing above another murder. A gravekeeper perhaps? Sylvester sat on a tombstone, took fire to some tobacco, and spoke. “Tell me my lady, what were the names of those killed and was there anything specific taken from his home? You seem to have known the man somewhat in life.”

    How did he know that? James mentally traversed her time with Sylvester but then halted. She was paying this man to think for her, after all. Better to not burden themselves with undue things. At least one thing was clear: this man's ability could not be disputed. Eron was right to force his employment, but could he be trusted? James was not sure. Fortunately, the question he was asking was an easy one. "Ginreed Boon, his wife Liza-- I mean Elizabeth. Their children Mavis and Mary. The killer had good taste for things he or she could sell. And, this really bothers me, but the killer also took a trade contact. If it was anyone but me, you wouldn't be able to tell until you compared Ginreed's documents to the records kept at House Stratos, but I was there when they agreed to make that contract. Without that contract or a living household relative, Stratos won't be able to claim payment. It's not much, since the contract deals in apples, but it bothers me."

    James stared into Sylvester's eyes waiting for a response when she caught glimpse of the name on the tombstone where he was sited. She hadn't looked to closely at the open grave earlier, she didn't have to think right now. That was Sylvester's job. There was definitely supposed to be a body there though. "You should also ask me about that grave your sitting on, if it matters."
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Mon Jun 03, 2013 10:47 pm

    I watched as the woman gave me straight answers to my questions without voicing any of her ow and once again was surprised at how much she meant by "just observe". I let her explination of the stolen goods sink in a bit and cataloged way the information before she "suggested" what my next inquiry should be. I smiled at her and took a long drag of my tabbacco and a just as long exhale and said, " Why my lady that was my next question". My smiled dropped and I patted my new seat, "Can you tell me everything you know about this man and," I paused and took another puff, " of any other trade contracts you family has made? Also, how long has Mr.Boon worked with house Stratos and what is the scale of the wealth that man had? Who will it go to now that he and his family is dead?" I shot off the questions to silent woman as they came to me.


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Wed Jun 05, 2013 3:22 pm

    James Stratos
    "You're sitting on the grave of the man who, until four seasons ago, was possibly the most powerful man in Wordenhaul. He was found dead at an abandoned mill from a fall. Seemed like an accident, but he’s kind of a big deal so no one is sure. House Wadenhyl still represents over half of Wordenhaul’s food supply, Lord Aeric’s son has maintained the estate. Unlike Aeric, Count Balyn never visits Wordenhaul. Duke Aeric had his hand in lots of things, but I don’t think he ever dealt with Ginreed. As for the trade contracts, you’ll have to ask my cousin about that. Ginreed wasn’t the richest man, but he’s been a dane of Stratos as long as I can remember. I used to go to his house with my dad.” Now both dead. “Anyway, as a dane of Stratos, his stuff and debts are ours if we want them. We can also give them to anyone if we have a reason.”
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Thu Jun 06, 2013 6:50 pm

    Hmmmmmm, no connection or motive...
    I scratch my beard stubble in thought at her words. If what she says is the truth then this "Lord Areic" should not have any reason to target that family. "Hmmmmmm," I hum out loud in thought. Either she is misinformed about their relationship, there is more to that trade agreement, or... our reanimated lord got the wrong people. I took one long last puff of my cig before flicking the small end onto the damp grass.
    What to do?
    I could lead this woman a few guards to the accused but how would I explain it? Given more time and investigating I could explain it away like I tracked him down normally but if he is anything like me, he will only grow stronger as time passes. "This is certainly a dilemma," I say to no one in particular. If he is revealed people will become even more suspicious of vampires. One random case can be dismissed as a fluke but two... "Most certainly".
    I smile and get up off my seat and turn to this James Stratos and look her up and down. Strong, quick, magically proficient, and easy on the eyes. In my current state there is a good chance she could kill me and seeing as mine and Lord Areic's apparent kills are about the same he [/i]should[i] hold no better, or he will kill us all; I hope for the first scenario.
    "My lady," I say with my smile still on my face, "we have a man that went into an expensive neighborhood, broke into a house on the lower end of the expensive scale and killed its' inhabitants. Why? If it was money then there are better targets and if who I suspect is the culprit then I can't figure out a motive." I pause and begin leaving the graveyard and stop and the exit to throw a glance over my shoulder.
    "So why don't we ask him?"


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by FrenchPopo on Fri Jun 07, 2013 4:44 pm

    12:05 AM

    "What's wrong, Alana?" asked Charles, as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Charles had her meal all prepared for her on the dining room table.

    "It's nothing really Charles.. I just missed Mother so much. I think you should get some sleep though, it's very late."

    "I couldn't possibly go to sleep before you're all taken care of Little Missy."

    "It's fine Charles, really. I'm going to eat and then go straight to bed. Promise."

    "As you wish, madam. Thank you, I am very much exhausted. That was the most excitement I've felt in a very long time. I'm so glad to have you home. I will have breakfast ready for you in the morning. Good night, Alana."

    "Good night, Charles. Believe me, it feels great to be home."

    Poor Charles, he must live a pretty rough life nowadays. Although, I guess he still has a life to live… Anyway, time to get to work. Alana disposed of the food on her plate and left the plate on the table. First thing she had to do was try to grasp some understanding of her new powers, her new form. All she knew about vampires was what she had remembered from stories her father told her and her siblings at bedtime. Vampires don’t like the sunlight and die by a wooden stake being plunged into their heart. There has to be more to it that that though… Maybe I could check Father’s library for some more information.

    Her father’s study was actually one of the bigger rooms of the house. On the opposite of the room sat a huge, sturdy desk; complete with a matching chair and a lamp. Both walls on each side of the desk had towering bookcases completely filled with texts. Just how she remembered it. The books were kept in alphabetical order; something she got scolded for many times when she would put a book back in the wrong spot. It took a while but she finally came up with something: Vampires: the Night Stalkers. ‘Vampires specialize into different types: casting, sneaking, hunting, defiling, and fighting.’ Hmm.. I wonder which one I am. Wait, what’s this? As she turned the next page into the casting section there was the title of a book written at the top: Combating the Many Faces of the Dark Arts. It would be smart to read about my weaknesses as well. She had to walk across the room to the other bookcase, and, of course, this book was on a higher shelf. She went and got a stool and reached for the book; immediately after removing it from the shelf there was a strange clicking noise. What the hell? The section of the bookcase in front of her sunk back into the wall and moved to the side, revealing an entry way. The air that rose out was hot and musty. It was dark, but there seemed to be a stairway that spiraled down. Alana stood there awestruck. What in the world could be down there? This calls for more investigation later. Alana realized it was getting late, and she shouldn’t start investigating this in her current state. There was a little lever on the exposed side of the sunken in bookcase; she pulled it and the case slid back over and popped forward into place. She put the book back and once again heard the strange clicking. She carried the first book she pulled to her room and collapsed into her bed face down. What the hell were you doing, Father?
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Sun Jun 09, 2013 3:01 pm

    James Stratos
    "Ask him?" James fingered where her breastplate strap ought to be. She had left it with her helm and horse back at Ginreed's. She was fine without it, but her arms meister would turn in his grave at the thought. "You know who did it already? Man." James shook her head in her hands as she approached Sylvester at the exit. "Tell me your evidence as we head back to Ginreed's. I'm not about to accuse a murderer without a brace of guards at my back. We wouldn't want him to escape us and miss our chance to catch him off guard, would we?"


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Mon Jun 10, 2013 11:14 am

    "You misunderstand my lady, this person is just a suspect and as for hard evidence I have absolutely none!" I say in a cheerful tone. "We are making this visit to rectify that problem and as I said before to ask him why he did it. And if things go the way I suspect them too, there should be many reasons to arrest the one responsible."

    We walk, as expected, in silence all the way back to the merchant’s home so she may don her equipment. I do a once over through the house to engrave each scent into my mind, making sure to spend extra time around the empty spaces that belonged to the stolen goods. In a few minutes we were off again, me following the decaying smell with a hint of Ginreed and a group of law keepers following me.

    ...

    "It's a rock." One of the guards commented.
    "Your powers of observation are astounding." I reply over my shoulder. The trail had led to this rock; this rock that is covered in this putrid sent as if he rubbed himself against it. Just looking at the rock I knew it could move, but how? I stepped forward and touch the smooth stone and began to feel around. The scent did not diverge from this path, there had to be a way to open it from... "Ha!" I exclaimed as my fingers found a push plate. I pressed down, and the plate clicked. The rock moved aside pushing up a little dust as it went, revealing a staircase into darkness. I let out an impressed whistle as I looked down into the darkness. "Anybody bring a torch my chance?" I glanced at James. "Any light magic perhaps? Also, I don't recommend I head down first; despite having a weapon and my impressive stature I am not the best fighter."
    And the fact I have no blood and this vampire may.


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Mon Jun 10, 2013 5:10 pm

    James Stratos
    James gazed down into the recently opened crevasse. A cobalt stairway that descended into darkness, absent of any flanking torches. Whoever had dug this didn't want anyone going down unless they already knew what was at the bottom. For all James knew it could be a maze you wouldn't even realize your walking through. It could be trapped, or enchanted by the trickery of the fey.

    "I don't carry torches with me," said one of the guardsmen. "That's night's watch."

    James wanted to go down anyway, as if to prove her resolve, but better practices became of her. "Alright, go get one. We'll make sure nothing gets out."

    "Yes m'lady." The guardsman turned about and trotted off.
    James scratched behind her neck. Trusting Sylvester to this point was fine, but judging by the dark look that hole was giving her she wasn't supposed to be here. She didn't want to lead two guardsmen to their doom due to her blind trust of this detective. Even so, she felt she could. It seemed he would head wherever his thoughts took him until he received truth or death. It was time for her passivity to end, though. Damn. It was a good run, but it was her duty as a Stratos to take command.

    James placed her hand on Sylvester's shoulder, smiling. "When we go down, you can stay in the back. I expect you to." The smile disappeared, James lips formed into a stern line. "I also expect you to do or say nothing unless I tell you to or you're trying to save someone. Meanwhile you will tell me who you suspect and why. We're not supposed to be here and I want to know my good reason to be."
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Tue Jun 11, 2013 1:41 am

    "I'll keep the explanation short." I leaned back on the open boulder and crossed my arms keeping my eyes on James. "Well let’s start with the soil sample I collected. Normal dirt all around town is light and fine from all the use. This dirt was dark and squishy telling me it was from some well kept and rarely traveled place. At first I thought it was garden soil until," I grimace remembering the taste, "Until I tasted it. It tasted of decay and smelled of rotten flesh like that of a grave with a decomposing corpse." I look up at the sky and began to scratch my beard stubble. "So I went to the closes grave yard and well," I gesture towards her, "you saw the scene. Open grave and a dead grounds keeper. His shovel was dirty to show he had been digging and the open coffin. The coffin lid was ripped in several places from the inside judging from the scratches and bang marks and there was one set of hand and footprints in the dirt showing something had scrambled out." I push off the rock unfold my arms. This may sound crazy my lady but I suspect Lord Aeric von Wadenhyl. Impossible? Maybe, but with the information I have now that is my current belief.

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose. There it is. And then I opened them and smiled. “At the very least we should find some of the stolen goods or pick up a trail to them." I turn my back to her and look down the stairway again and ask over my shoulder, "anything else?


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Sat Jun 15, 2013 6:05 pm

    James Stratos
    James shifted her weight from right to left, her now lowered shoulder providing a better view at the descending stairway.  "Not really," she answered.  "I guess you found this rock in the same, crazy way.  But Duke Aeric definitely died, and zombies just aren't that good at murder without masters.  This hole is getting more dangerous, do you have any idea what might be in it?"

    "That I do, that I do."  James waited silently as an old man dressed in heavy, draping garments clambered up the stairs, lantern in hand.  The man's neck draped almost as much as his cloths, and he held the lantern low near his knees.  When he talked James could hear a rumble boiling in his throat, aiding her imaginative conjecture that the man might have been gruff and unruly in his youth.  His throat rumbled again.  "Given that you do not, I gather that you do not have signed permission from either House Vangar or House Wadenhyl.  Without their permission, you cannot enter."

    James wanted to palm her forehead, but she didn't.  This suspicious hole was protected by the house of the accused and the house her dad had been aiming to overthrow.  Needless to say, the later was not a friend, and each house was considerably powerful.  "Then we won't take a step down those stairs, sir...?"

    "Dane Godric of Wadenhyl."  So the man was a dane of Wadenhyl.  James had a hunch her detective's hunches were reliable.  Unfortunately, since he gave his name she would have to give hers.  She forgot that, she missed her chance to be an anonymous visitor.

    "I'm Lady James Stratos.  You can call me Lady Jamie, if you like.  My man here has a question for you, Dane Godric."  She oriented herself towards Sylvester.  He was basically leading the investigation, so she left it to him to reveal their purpose to Godric or not.  She trusted his intuition more than her own at this point.
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Thu Jul 04, 2013 3:29 pm

    Hmmmmmm
    I examined the old man before me. If I so wanted I could kick him down the stairs with little resistance and go on about my investigation. Though I suppose present company would not go for that. I sighed, shrugged, and then smiled at the man. It is a pleasure to meet you Dane Godric I am Sylvester Wainright, an investigator hired by house Stratos concerning the recent murder of the Mr. Boon and his family.” I paused for a moment and gauged the man’s reaction, nothing. “I have reason to believe that the one responsible has fled into this place.” I paused again and still this man’s face revealed nothing.
    [/font][/color][color=#000000]What is with all these stone faced people lately?
    “I don’t suppose you would allow us to look around a bit?”


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Fri Jul 12, 2013 12:17 am

    James Stratos
    Godric's moved a breath left and then right. James took this slight motion to be a declination. "I cannot permit your entrance," he said. "I assure you, no murderer is here. Should your inquiries still plague you, approach a Lord or Lady of Vangar. Can I help in another way with your worries?"
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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Fri Jul 12, 2013 1:24 am

    I frown and shrug a bit. "Well I suppose there is one more thing." I walk forward away from James and stop at the very edge of the first step and lean over slowly to get as close to the man's face as possible and whisper, "Tell our undead lord to tread very carefully unless he wants Galfrid Batisfforde himself to make a visit to this city." With that I straighten up and turn my back to the old man. "I suppose we are done with this lead for now my lady." I say to James with a smile. "I will continue my investigation of course but I fear we are at a dead end for now."


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Ippy on Mon Sep 23, 2013 7:14 pm

    9:56 AM

    James Stratos
    An eyebrow arched high as Godric withdrew from Sylvester's sudden proximity.  The old man found it necessary to clear his throat yet again before rumbling, "Yes, yes.  Well, should you have need of me you know my post.  It was good speaking to to, Lady Jamie."  He turned and gave Sylvester a curt nod.  "And you, Lady Jamie's man."  With that Godric begun his decent, not without considerable effort.

    James stared forward, her tongue molesting a single tooth beneath the cover of her lips.  She didn't like that Sylvester decided to say words beyond her earshot, but even if she accosted the investigator as to why she wouldn't be able to trust the reply.  Maybe her cousin in all his wisdom would have asked anyway, quoting James's aunt about simply have more knowledge or some such, but James was not her cousin.  She decided to remain irked rather than hear nonsense from the investigator about some form of interrogative strategy.  "Of course Sylvester.  Investigate as you will, and visit the Stratos estate if you need anything."  James looked to her lingering guardsman.  He was clean shaven and short-haired, equipped with the light mail and short sword provided by the Day Watch.  "I, meanwhile, will be waiting for the useless torch I commanded be brought to me."


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    Re: Wrought from the Coffin IC

    Post by Elit3Fla5h on Tue Sep 24, 2013 8:30 pm

    I let out a long exhale and watched the white smoke fade into oblivion. I absent mindedly wished I had my chair… or my desk… or any furniture at all. I looked at my empty home from my spot on the floor and pinched the skin between my eyes to ease my headache. After leaving Jamie Stratos I had made a B-line for my house and have been in deep thought since. There was just so much to think about! So much to consider and decide. Why was I resurrected? Who killed me? Who is behind these undead and what is their purpose? Why were those people killed? How should I deal with the other vampires? What are my personal plans? And what the hell was I going to tell Kate? I sighed and put out what was left of my tobacco on my boot. I would of course answer each question in time but which to tackle first? What was most pertinent? It’s not too hard to assume that more than just us three were raised last night but the big question lie in the purpose. And what about my “killer? Would he come back to finish the job? If he was still around my existence would be a problem alright. I stood up and adjusted my coat. I would take care of my murderer first, handle damage control with the other vampires, stay on good terms with the Stratos house, work slowly back into my old life with a few modifications, all the while trying to figure out who resurrected me and why. “I better get started.” I said to myself with an excited smile.
    I began to “sniff” my house for anything useful, anything that may jog my memory of my last few moments… nothing. There were three distinct smells in this room them being Kate, Hershal, and myself. The other smells were most likely thieves that had broken in over the past year. Searching for clues here would be near fruitless, this crime scene was just too contaminated but it was the best I was going to get. I searched my home for at least an hour and was about to give up when something caught my nose. It was faint and different yet… familiar. I took a deep breath and still couldn’t place it. I brought my face to the ground and again took another deep breath and it clicked. “Lady James?” No that was not right, at least not completely. This one was different but they had the same undertone, a relation perhaps? A Stratos would make sense seeing as that same night I had their head arrested for murder. This sent was one of the least noticeable in the house; whoever this was was fast and efficient getting in and out in as little time as possible.
    I lit another roll of tobacco. I was getting ahead of myself on this. There was no proof this was the actual murder scene or if this person was in fact my murderer. All I had to go on was a faint smell from where the perpetrator walked. I needed something better. Something they probably touched quite a bit. I then looked down at my body. “Looks like I need to go find my old cloths.”


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