Quest: Ledger of Rituals - Attack on Kiel

[Nadja]

About this time, the ship that had brought Kat to Skull Island would be casting off, or already had an hour ago if not sooner. His men had their orders, they were to team up with the undead crew of the ship and give support to one of the promising weapons that the lich had collected with his return to the world. The weapon of course was a new warrior the bandit king himself had barely spent much time familiarizing himself with. Anything in regard to the lich was still something he kept away from until it had been proven fully that it could be trusted. There were matters at the port of Kiel that were to be dealt with the lich had told him. Matters that would be dealt with tonight. His men were sent to aid the lich in whatever business was being sent that way.

Thunder was rumbling in the distance as a strange dark cloud which stood out from the darkness had come out of nowhere. It was very visible that and the sparks of lightning which erupted from its bowels looking as if it hit the ocean as it drew near the port of Kiel. The sky would begin to shift becoming red with dark clouds with each sound of thunder rumbling flashes of red sparked through those dark clouds trying to break through. The clouds pace even seemed more quicker than regular clouds as it seemed to drift with a quick pace toward the docks, while a foul first began to descend from it filling the air with a smell a unique and foul smell. It was a smell probably worse than death worse than decay, beyond description except stomach turning even for the strongest men. It was new and probably unwelcome due to its stench. It would hover and began its work to cover the area like an eclipse the entire area was quickly being covered in shadow what lanterns or any type of lighting from a candle in a window to a torcher began to dim and grow darker eventually dying out. Something new was coming.

:: Salt. He missed it like a drunk misses his bottle. He knew at one time, long ago, he could smell on his boat, taste it in the air, feel it on his skin from the mist of kicked up water. But now, no longer. It was this lack of salt, as well as a lack of so many other things that drove his wrath onwards. He stood at the prow of the boat, looking towards the port in the distance with unflinching orbs of lidless white, sunk deep into a withered skull. While he was without several of his senses, death had not robbed him of all of them, for he heard the oars cut into the water, manned by the tireless minions he had stolen from the grave. Arms remained crossed over a blackened lorica segmentata that hung upon his lithe, skeletal form, held together by what appeared to be only dirty, rotting flesh. Legs where hidden behind long strips of crimson studded leather, bound in tall wrapped sandals to the underside of sharp knees. A cold and ghastly noise escaped his exposed teeth, his lips having long ago rotted away to show fanged teeth in this humanoid form.:: "Slow!" ::He barked out in a voice that would make even the more hardened veterans feel like children under the harsh, critical gaze of their fathers.::

Osiris had been making his preparations since the approach of dawn. He had made arrangements for those embarking on the rescue mission of Ekaterina to meet within the Stumble. It was a familiar ground to most. Though, Osiris himself was not currently there. Instead, he was on his way taking the road most traveled out of Kiel. He was maintaining a lock upon a certain object that blonde vixen had taken a liking to. It connected them to some degree and it made locating it all the easier. The Tsol Raa's thoughts running circles looking for reasons and answers. Explanations and strategies. Time, of course, was not on his side. Not this time. The Aspects of Time weren't forgiving entities when they expended their own gifts onto their protectors. Osiris had made no mention of such to Kat or anyone else close to him at the price paid for such power. With the forces at hand, however, he knew he couldn't hold anything back for the price was far beyond that of death. Quiet step by quiet step he progressed with near crystalline eyes peering from beneath the dark hood. His attire was rather simple for a man going out on an adventure. Onyx hues throughout dabbed with a hint of an earthly embrace. Leather vambrace and boots. Three belts hanging from around his waist and hardly nothing more in regards of armor. At least visually. Regardless, what did seem so offset about his appearance was the katana dabbed in a frost brandish nature. It wasn't sheathed nor usually was it. His right hand carried it lightly behind him with the tip of the blade carving up the ground of the pathway. Specks of frostbitten foliage depicted his origin of location to where he was currently. Condensation pulling free beneath nostrils from the very breath he took. Purpose was to find the Ledger of Rituals. But, the stakes of the matter were raised and Osiris' patience had dwindled to nothing.

It would be more due to the missive delivered her by way of the fire golem that had the tiny Rom making her way down the same road as another before her. The colorful Vardo rumbled as its wooden wheels traversed over the washboard like conditions of the road. Yet something was off, something that had the small Gypsy a bit on edge. The usual whispers upon the winds that offered her comfort, was not this night. There was a sense of urgency, perhaps even dread, that clung to those wordless notes to the normal human’s ear. It was enough to have her withdraw the long whip, one not often used, to give a resounding snap against the Piebald’s ass to have him gain a bit more speed. She knew not if she was running from something, or was it towards? The sensation surrounded her, feeling as if it could and would swallow her whole. Yet, there was the sense of something other in the mix, that of a chilling chaos which she noted the night prior. It meant that Osiris was close, but how close, she wasn't certain. Due to age, the Piebald would speed up to more of a trot, for galloping had been lost with the passage of time. The muscles of the animals did strain as it pulled the colorful wagon at a faster pace down the road.


The cloud would remain a float over Kiel while it began to expand to further cover the area as well as other places within shadow. The energy was beginning to build while the unknown and foul stench began to grow. Eventually something began to fly out from the clouds it looked like giant fire flies but at close ranges it was several masks then began circling as a ghost orb appeared and started morphing. Long strings would grow from the orb and began looking like arms and legs. The sphere itself began shifting eventually shifting into a veiled figure. He wore oriental attire of a Shinto priest but they were black three spirit orbs would appear flying overhead he clutched a staff tapping moving it up and down like one would do when tapping a floor causing the rings along the staff to make an echoing jangle and jingle sound as he did so a strange white light that looked like glowing snow and cover the area. " Spirits of the long deceased come forth and regain consciousness within your remains, rise from your graves long forgotten with no markers no longer. Come forth and wait for my signal..." As if the earth sill began to wiggle in some areas like water in a tub when played in making little waves. When the casting was done he would remain floating looking toward the ground below." The target is near.. I must remain ahead." he phases from his location and appear on the soil a twenty minutes ahead of Osiris." Now then.' he extended his hand out as a wooden marionette appeared and took the shape of an unconscious old man and lay out on the ground. " Mask of Rage come to me and give to me your will and form." the clouds would rumble as a loud pitch shriek of a woman both demonic and human came from within. A mask floated down whaling like a banshee. The moment the priest reached out to touch it his body began glowing and started morphing again. Soon in his place was a woman with long dark hair tied loosely in a dark and old kimono. Lowering down to the disguises puppet in the form of a deceased old man the priest put his act into action and allowed the mask to give him it's will soon the sound of a whispering and mournful woman's soft crying would begin while waiting.

Twenty minutes was enough to run several miles. How far exactly was it from the cove which would provide an excellent location to anchor ship, or any of the nearby shores that the lichs boat had put to use in the abduction of Kat they knew not. The boat was behind them now, they had leapt into the waters with ease moments beforehand and close enough that they needn't not swim. Some of their numbers were thankful to be out of the company of the lich himself, the one that was most feared throughout the ride from Skull Island to this isle where the port of Kiel was nearby. Even though the port itself was a distance away, the taint of decay still permeated the air, and their nostrils. Many of them adorned themselves with the concealment of hoods, combined with darkening scarves for their faces. Such scarves were excellent means to keep them from breathing in the distant unwanted. In the skies above the storm that had been pushing the ship through the waters at such speeds was still rampaging amongst the clouds. The sound of the storm marking a particular moment that they knew not was overheard and the forests itself illuminated more intensely to their annoting attentions. Mostly because they were relying upon the darkness to remain concealed as they approached the road that held two whom they would target that night. They were only a dozen or so in number. Yet they were more skilled in their trade than many of the hundreds and into thousands who served their King. Dark was their clothing, and various were their choice of weapons.

::With the vessel anchored on the shored just outside of the city, the time was ripe to bring his force down upon the people of the city. Oars were pulled into the long ship, keened blades made at the ready, truncheons hefted, chains and man catchers equipped. One of the few sentient undead on the vessel approached him, and after a brief interaction, ran to fetch his staff as he dismounted from the ship, his host of thirty soon following him. While many of these husks were those of men, there were but three who were not. No, these massive forms, cobbled together from the flesh of many were no men at all, but hulking monstrosities, their arms as big around as most men’s hips and fist the size of a man’s head. The butchered cadavers bore no weapons, instead thick lengths of chain with iron collars and manacles about them. It was into groups of ten they split, nine warriors to each of these abominations. With his troops before him, he lifted his staff, a horrible thing of spinal columns wrapped about a central point, topped with several pairs of skeletal hands grasping a book bound in the leathery hide of a man, it's spine woven from sinews of the body and it's buckle encrusted with teeth.:: "March!" ::And with this command, the gathering did as their lord instructed, descending upon the city without so much as a moment’s hesitation with the Undead One leading the way.::

Osiris could already tell but the rough weather that tonight was going to be anything but ordinary. The surges of power coursing through the night sky. The meandering feeling of and stench of corpses skittering through the atmosphere as if every graveyard on this side of the continent had opened. This led the warrior of chronokinetics to remain on vigilant awareness. Even with such focus dedicated around him there was a smidgen of his attention remaining deadlock to a certain stone. Every vibe in his stomach told him something eerie was about. Yet, his pace remained until he eventually someone came into his line of sight. The moment they were acknowledged from his distance of a hundred yards or so he stopped. The grieving symphony indicated female. Of all places and of all nights this little scene drew Osiris's curiosity. It was challenging to pinpoint the source of her mournful nature but the seemingly lifeless body beside her had inspired more belief. The Tsol Raa was magical by construction. Imbued with the very essence that pulled magic from one world to another. It was the faintest glow of such that led to the Tsol Raa's hesitation. But, she was in his way. Time ticking. The hilt of his weapon tightened and the temperature of the evening began to drop rather dramatically. This was a tell-tale sign that Osiris was preparing himself for the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Those that resided in the port city were not unaccustomed to the variety of strange weather patterns that usually drifted inland from the sea. A massive storm, torrential winds, bolts of lightning and funnel clouds. However, what waged itself upon the lands was something they've never encountered before. The streets of Kiel were as popular by night as they were by day; perhaps more so. Sailors taking their leave for the evening, dock hands, those who tended to the warehouses, and merchants alike would usually frequent the local drinking holes at night. Wandering diners, lovers, or those getting from one point to another in travel. Merchants and customers within the market place, and the skeleton crews aboard the ships were still lively as they partook of their rum and songs. It would be the sudden change that drifted over the lands that had the silence encompasses the city in much the same way one would put a pillow over the face of another to smother out life. Just as the ripple affect hit the land, giving a near earthquake like quality to the ground, so would that from those who had been closest to the docks. The arrival of the Lich and its minions would be espied, and warnings to be shouted out and carried on like an echo over the entirety of the city area. This would set people in motion, some running, and some seeking a mode of transportation to get away; even if it wasn't theirs.

Carly was working within the tavern when this all transpired, as suddenly the interior began to fill past capacity, as people rushed from the streets to seek solace and a sense of safety behind closed doors. Most of the women were sobbing, the men argued amongst themselves as they moved about in wide-eyed fear. She’d get an understanding of just what was going on, by the jumbled words picked up by those within the crowd. These people wouldn’t even make a good lynch crowd, let alone a band of men needed to step up and fight. Why? Because they had no direction, it was as if the head of the snake had been cut off.

[Nadja]

The tiny Rom would unleash that whip upon the rear flank of that Piebald several times more. To get as much speed out of the old bag of bones, as she could. She was nearly at the point where she was ready to jump down and run afoot, thinking it would be faster by far. A knot was forming in the pit of her stomach, something wicked this way comes. Something she knew in her heart was really bad Juju. All she wanted to do was get to the Stumble, and it wasn't too far ahead, a few miles at least. That was until she noticed figures in the distance upon the road.

The woman continued her crying just as Osiris approach the figure would remain mourning for several more minutes until finally reaction gave in. a gasp and the woman's head turned slightly not fully in the direction of Osiris . Her face was hard to see due to all that dark hair but it was obviously she was looking in his direction. the woman began trembling at his presences hands shaking as they held onto the lifeless body in front of her She didn't budge from her spot and remain in the other man's way still trembling but that crying seemed was she afraid of him it was hard to tell, either way she did not move from his way. Someone else was coming.. Was it the other target? No time to figure it out the importance was mainly remaining in the spot while waiting for the others to arrive as long as possible.

In the distance, the port of Kiel, the sound of horror, of hundreds if not thousands of people screaming, hollering and shouting in abject fear was hard to not overhear. It echoed into the valleys, into the trees, into the very seas of the fear that was massing. The fear of the undead that was arriving, of their lack of light from candles and hearths and lanterns alike that had gone out well before hand and left them all in darkness. Of that gut-wrenching stench that had no doubt left many in the streets, still on the streets lying in piles of their own vomit, urine, or even worse. These would no doubt be the first susceptible victims, as there was no way they would recover, or even be able to withstand that stench. There were other matters though, as Osiris was hunted for. If he was not in the city, which no doubt would be well taken care of, he may also be at the stumble Inne. The direction that the bandits were heading for. It was through the passing of the trees that they would approach. Well experienced at ambushing merchants, their caravans, and helpless nobles alike throughout the years. The sound of a too noisy wagon, decored in way too many colors, being led by a horse way too old in its years garnered their attention. Who was she? Probably no one of consequence. A wagon could contain who they sought, or lead to the very man. In the not so far distance a few other figures were spied upon as well. Two of their number remained near the wagon upon one side of the road, whilst more circled around, unseen, noiseless, and concealed with the darkness of shadowing trees when the shrill of lightning illuminated the area for that blithering moment or two. The rest of their number hastening moved onwards to spy upon those further on in the distance. There was no telling who the hooded man was...until...The sound of an old horse neighing high into the trees of its pain won well over the lightning a few moments prior in dramatics. Another moment and the equine collapsed upon ground in a tumble of aged limbs and mottled agony as it'd twitch and enter its fathoms of death. The next spell of lightning would portray the rooted length of a blade thrown into its throat..

::The criers, thrice cursed by then, were watchful it seemed. While this annoyed him, he found no real trouble upon his cause in such an action. While the two other groups fanned out from his own in search of captives, he took his own down the widest street he could find. Anyone who had not made it in doors was subject to the horrors that would soon follow, namely being chased down by his swiftest runners and beaten into submission or held fast with man catchers about the throat. Those that put up too much a fight suffered a much more fatal blow, be it a club to the temple or a knife through the ribs. However it was clear he was not here to kill, and as he stalked, the massive mound of walking flesh collected prisoners, shackled about their hands and necks, being dragged about at the end of a chain. He would of course, not let harm come to them, dealing with militia men or guards himself in a myriad of arcane spells, all of which horrible to watch and even more so to experience, or, if the mood struck him, he struck them down with such a blow from the stave that if left the book smeared with such blood that if would make one think
it a pole hammer instead of a staff. Thus it continued until he came upon his first stop of the night. An Inn, or perhaps pub or Tavern. Head tilted slightly towards the hanging sign, which he pushed aside with the bloodied staff, reading the sign to himself as he mouthed without lips, his voice a harsh baritone that sounded perpetually frustrated.:: "Bloody Bore..." ::With a motion of his staff, he sent his group to surround the buildings windows while the brute remained behind him as he wrapped his knuckles upon the door.::

Suffering. The waling of souls from the port city stung the spirit of the man who stood firmly a short distance away from the grieving femme. He was only several seconds from taking to the woods to avoid her altogether. He had an Inne to get to after all. However, the rushing noise from behind him and cracking of the whip had brought the inspiration to turn. He wasn't in the most favorable of predicaments but those who knew Osiris knew he was well adept at adapting to unforeseen circumstances. One of the many reasons why he was given his second life. Though, before he could give the oncoming problem a look a flash of lightening erupted and brought forth the demise of the equine. He had to act fast and without the protections that he normally preferred. The Vardo was on a crash course in due thanks to a rogue blade and it's bull’s-eye to the throat of the animal. He had seen the contraption enough to realize who she was but what danger she was placed in wasn't quite calculable. Hearing was one thing. Seeing quick enough to react was another. Especially, when he was already weary of what was before him. If she ended up going airborne he'd make a one armed attempt. But, if she ended up rolling before he got to her he'd stop her with a... gentle leather boot. Whatever the case, the recently deceased before the dark haired woman had his primary attention with a gander nearby for any hints of where the blade originated from. " Noi nu suntem singuri. "

Onwards the Vardo did rumble in sequence to that which lit the skies above and the earth below. That was until the Piebald collapsed in midstride, and though the horse was downed, the Vardo surged forward. Colliding into the large form of the fallen beast, this would cause the guiding tongues to dip down and imbed into the ground. Forward momentum of motion would follow through as the Vardo bucked. Any of the men that had been running alongside of it that did not step away or duck, would feel the impact of those rear wooden wheels, still in motion, against the back of their heads. Upwards it would rise with that sudden stop, catapulting her from the bench seat she was upon. Indeed airborne she had gone, though the distance wouldn't permit the catcher to fill his mitt. Though she would hit the ground, bouncing a few times before she'd roll. The wind knocked out of her upon first hit, the second would render her into a dazed and near unconscious state when she was stopped by a gentle leather boot.


There were several at the windows peering out to that beyond, and it was like a wild fire the identification of the one knocking at the door. Women in the group began to cry, along with a few men also. Some whispered, a few shouted out curses against the thing that stood beyond the door. That was until a loud shrill whistle would break through the din of the noise and have all eyes turn towards the bar. "Pick up ye balls lads, put 'em where they belong. Arm yerselves and prepare for a battle if we must." In her hand she'd raise the slender sword of her own. "Women get to the rooms upstairs, lock the doors, windows and pull the shades." Using the saber to point the directions out being barked. "Some of ye men, to the kitchen and secure it. The rest of ye, baton down the windows and lower doors." She'd then point towards the door itself. "Whatever walks through that door, cut it into chunks for shark bait." Upon the bar she stood, the one all mistook for a simple tender. Feet planted firmly, adorned in the simple dress of her trade, apron about her waist. Dark eyes flashed as she barked out those orders to get a sense of order within to battle against that out.

:: The lifeless figure was an old man a pouch with lumber and a type of lumber cutting device close to an axe was near him. He was some type of elderly woodcutter. Something was going on those. Was the man moving his fingers would twitch as if there was life still in the man His head though wasn't visible the woman before him was blocking any more view of the man. In the meantime the chant the veiled priest had done before seemed to come to light when several decaying hands slowly rose up from the surface of soil which hadn't been disturbed in centuries reached out to try and grab at Osiris ankles. If this worked it gave enough distraction for what was about to happen next. " Hahhhh The woman made a sound as hair lots and lots of hair flutter out in an attempt to coil around Osiris's upper limps, both arms neck and waist. The hair looked like hair but the feel of it was like steel and had a smell the same unknown smell beyond description. The woman would chuckle as her head rose up and to reveal a hideous sight. Her face looked like a Hannya mask fused with feline features of a cat, only it wasn't a mask but her face. The body of the woman began to shift taking the form of the priest who removed his head from the mask which remained a float he would move from behind the mask which still had the foul smelling black mane. “Rage Continue to hold him... It was he... he who killed your beloved kitten... your revenge will be sweet but you must do as I bid Rage... The others will be here soon when they are done with him you made have him...” The mask eyes began glowing if anyone could sense it the mask held a soul a corrupted soul " You’re the one they call Osiris? The priest would ask starring at the veiled one would look in the other's direction. Now His eyes drifted to the woman." I advise you not to do anything silly...This one has been gift wrapped for others... unless you serve them you may deliver him for me if you wish."

It may have been quicker to kill everyone along the road and then everyone in stumble Inne, but it would be better to know that you actually killed the man you were hunting, and not assume that those you killed were he. So the game of patience was played out. The dozen or so bandits remained hidden behind tree and within shadow for the tale to unfold. The priest was far superior to them in power and magi, as they had naught but their weapons, many of which could take any normal man down from a distance, and with such a number of bandits ready and aiming as it was, any normal man would be quick to fall to his death and join the horse. If though, for some odd reason, their missile weapons would not meet their mark, marks that they trained and practiced on such a normal basis that they were overly confident that they could embed puncturing wounds into many of his vital points with a deft speed. Though there was that growing matter of a possibility that the hairs weave upon his lower limbs might protect him from such if it succeeded. They though, were just as ready to maim and disable Osiris if he were not Osiris. As they were ready as well to quickly kill him and have the matter done with once it was confirmed that he was indeed who they sought. Still, those who wielded not such throwable weapons were ready with much longer blades and cudgels to make do with the next step that would be tried, assurance that the deal would be done was of the utmost matter here.

::It was fairly easy to listen to the shouts and sobs from behind the door, and at the curses he drew in a sharp sound of displeasure.:: "Humph. Rude. Very Rude." ::He muttered to himself more than anyone else. However he was not about to lower himself to what they demanded of him. So instead he knocked again. Once, twice and on the third and final strike, it was not his knuckles that his the door, but instead the bottom of his clenched fist, which stuck with enough force to not only splinter the door and cause a crack down the middle so deep that it was only held in place by the iron bindings of it, but to rip the nails of its hinges from the frame and knock it to the floor in
front of him with a great crash and plume of dust around it He leveled the staff with one arm at the nearest person, armed or not and made a single command as the hands atop the staff turned the book to point the cover completely upon him.:: "You." ::He snapped as his darkened brow furled over orbs of near complete white.:: "Pick up the door and open it for me. Now."

Unfortunately, Osiris was no ordinary man. Nadja was temporarily safe but such a thought wasn't even able to cross his mind when he was suddenly blanketed with a mess of hair and the decaying stench. Osiris's blade had still been in hand but the arctic blade met the ground as his upper body was basically cocooned. The actions that followed had caught him questioning what it was that had taking a liking to him so well. But, then the question rang forth asking if he was in fact Osiris. With features still covered and not a glimmer of light to be seen. Such a description of his features weren't so readily available. The Tsol Raa was quiet for the longest time but their friendly neighborhood priest would soon discover that the hold he held upon the man couldn't become tighter than what it was. Why? Such was the ways of the Tsol Raa. It wasn't comfortable and it took much effort into maintain a resistance of psionic proportions. "You set the stage in the middle of the road. Deploy a mirage to draw your target closer. Yet, now you're unsure if you have said target within your grasp?" Wisdom denounced every syllable. “ I can confirm only one suspicion and provide one fact." Lightly tilting his head preventing his face from being seen. But, Osiris did sense the corruption riddled in the other. " I can tell you that I've not murdered any kittens. But, I have lost a Kat." There was his fact. Now, for his suspicion. " I could be your mother for all you know. " A dark rhapsody with a tinged of amusement. Clearly, if this creature did not know what Osiris looked like. There was a larger chance that it was unaware of what Osiris was. This, in itself, was a terrible mistake on its part. " I will ask politely to be released. The second time may not be so favorable. "

[Nadja]

The tiny Gypsy was human after all, and being catapulted and bouncing off the ground a few times would have rendered her as no threat. Definitely bruised, abraised, and a few lacerations to accompany that near unconscious state. There may even be a broken bone or two, but that wasn't even in consideration right now. Upon the ground she laid, barely moving. Hearing what was being said, but it was like trying to swim through a murky bog, her mind was slow and muddled from making sense of it at the present.

When the door of the tavern began to bulge from the beating it was taking, it caused the crowd to step back and fall into a deathly silence. A few men turned tail and ran, seeking refuge in the kitchen area, the furthest distance in their mind from that door. Like a Captain stood upon their Quarterdeck to give their orders, Carly had taken the same stance atop the bar. Though like the others, she had been rendered silent and unmoving as they watched the door. Then it gave way and caused a dual reaction. One might have thought women still stood in the group, from the sounds several men made when they witnessed what walked through that
door before they turned tail like others and ran. A few dashed off to the stairs and the rooms above, either to protect the women, or hide beneath their skirts. Then there were the brave few that maintained their position at the door. The one the Dracolich demanded to lift the door and open it proper? He was one of the ones that sounded like a girl when he screamed and then turn to run. It would take a moment for the shock and disbelief to release its hold upon those gathered in the Blood Bore, but it would indeed past. Perhaps more because of the disbelief of what the creature demanded upon entry that shocked them into reality? "Fight!" Came a voice out of the silence as she lifted her saber into the air. This would cause a roar to bellow forth in the crowd, as those men remaining surged forward upon the Dracolich with weapons in hands. Some with swords, most with daggers or long blades. She would quickly make her way off the bars surface, and as the men began their battle she'd quickly make way for the hidden room below. This was no ship, and it wasn't sinking, and she was no captain, she was going to save her own skin!

" There is no doubt you are Osiris now... hmm your features are exactly like one from my original origin, yet you haven't heard of me...doesn't matter. He was aware of the others and smirked lightly under that veil. I am a neutral creature but your popularity troubles me are you really a thorn in everyone’s side?"... Let’s find out he raised his staff and a purple sphere rose up from the ground to entombed them. There was a flash of light and when it dimmed out the priest had teleported them in the location where all the carnage and capturing of people were going on. The hair wrapped around Osiris would tear from the mask but leave him still bound the mask floated to its master side
and vanish within his body. This was suspicious as well as odd but that moment the priest leapt up and would remain afloat from him and the others in fact he remained standing there in the air starring down at Osiris. Wondering what would occur between him and the other (dance) and his reanimated warriors.. Of course the priest had some time of intentions for now though they along with his actions were a mystery.

"Ngh." ::He gave a noise of frustration as the man turned tail to run. However, he was not going to let him get away with such ease, or anyone else in the room for that matter. As the fellow ran away, and so many others ran towards him, he brought the staff about in a great sweeping motion, making a nearly one hundred and eighty degree arc before sweeping it skywards, casting his spell with little more than a motion and a whispered word. For all in the room, save he, it was as if the world had shifted and flipped upon them. Up became down and down became up as gravity was flipped upon them, sending the entire mob of them, and the runner flying towards the rafters with such a force it was as if they had fallen from a height to that of the roof. There they would stay, piled together like a box full of sleeping puppies as he stepped into the room slowly, the soft click of the bones on the staff resounding as he looked about, making a motion towards the door way and a few of the dead following in behind him. The hulk of meat was after all, too large to follow. Eyes scanned the writhing mass above him until he found what he was looking for, the man who had failed his command to open the door. On he and he alone he let the spell fail, bringing him to another sharp drop before hitting the ground with a thud. The undead moved to him, sheathing their weapons as they lifted him by his arms. The lich strode over slowly, drawing a dirty knife from a table where someone had been eating.:: "I asked you to open the door, peasant." ::He watched the blade glint in the light as he turned it this way and that.:: "Yet you did not." ::The knife was swiftly inserted into the man’s torso, just under the ribs and with a slow sawing motion he made a deep cut before drawing it out and casting it aside. His hand was then placed against the wound and pushed inside, followed by more and more of his arm as he questioned him.:: "Why did you disobey me?" ::He knew the man would not answer him, especially after he found purchase on the man’s brain stem and ripped his spine from his ribs and out the hole he had made.::

" Big productions are not exactly my thing, Priest. " Confessed with a rather amused smirk. Then, the comment about being neutral emerged and what entertainment he had harnessed from the predicament faded. They were then entombed in a sphere and after the blinding flash faded Osiris came to understand where they were. " If you're so neutral why do you allow defenseless innocents die? " Perhaps there was a sense of ire in his tone. He could feel the very presence of those not so fortunate beginning to build upon his shoulder. However, such attention was dismissed when the physical visual of the lich came into his peripheral. Silently, he observed from his bound state as the knife in the hands of the undead carves through the flesh. The insertion of the corrupted bone grabbing that which still clung to life. Yanked forth without mercy or remorse with the sickening cracking and severing of anatomical parts. It was enough to make a normal man spew forth their lunch by the amount of blood on display. Yet, the macabre scene didn't affected the cerebral capacities of the Tsol Raa. Osiris had lifted his focus toward the Priest before
returning his sights onto the Lich. Surely, Osiris's aura and presence would give the man away. " My, the years have not been kind to you... " Okay, so he still had a bit of glint to his vox but it quickly shifted. " I did not realize that priests and undead got along so well. You now have one doing your bidding, Durnehviir. " An alias of the Lich's true form utilized. One of thousands. " I'd shake your hand for old times’ sake but I'm a little tied up at
the moment. "

Randell had waited at the Inn for quite some time, saying he was awaiting the arrival of a certain Gypsy woman to speak to. When she didn't arrive, he booked himself a room and retired to it. This had Radulfr wondering, as much as he distrusted the woman he dubbed a witch, he knew her not showing to be out of character. Leaving Lilly to tend to the Inn, by his command she was to shut it up tight and lock it down. He then took to the road to find an answer, and one he'd come upon soon enough. There in the middle of the road laid her crumpled form, the scene of her wagon and horse would give him understanding to the cause. Quickly to dismount, a tender care to lift her and place her upon his horse, then up into the saddle to take her back to the Inn. There she'd be taken to a room as he and Lilly tended to her wounds. Then he would rouse the men staying at the Inn, to set up guard posts. The blade extruding from the horses neck was reason enough for him to take such actions.

Rag doll, which was the tiny Rom. She'd be thankful to the man at another time, for now that she was in his care, she'd release all her energies to pass out.

Thankful she was as close to that hatch as she was, it was what saved her from joining the others on top. Moving down through the tunnel below, saved her from witnessing the carnage taking place above. Due to the nature of other business that often transpired beneath the taverns roof, hidden rooms and tunnels created for quick escapes littered the ground beneath the building. This would be her route in which to seek to put quite the distance between herself and the tavern setting.

The priest would remain silent and just watch as the other approached Osiris. The staff he carried had long since vanished and he was now petting a mask. A black unfinished mask.' I am just observing and waiting... that is all I shall do... I like to choose my ..Special new editions carefully." He wouldn't really do anything more but watch as the other approached Osiris an amused smile began to form under that veil.

"Osiris." ::He chimed as he looked away from his handy work, the check and stomach of his armor covered in blood that ran down along the strips of leather, blending into the color.:: "How kind of you to join us." ::He took a firmer grip on the spine he held while he planted his staff firmly into the base boards with a single slam. Putting his foot upon the loins of the now dead man, he kicked at him, ripping the spine free while sending the body tumbling
away.:: "Well, the years may not have been kind to me, but I assure you." ::He turned to face him, holding the spine in place over his own loins and shaking it lewdly.:: "My hips have been very kind to Ekaterina. I gave her some good old crotch rot!" ::He tossed the spine aside, his lipless mouth unable to form any sort of expression ground his teeth together as he snatched up the staff once more.:: "As have that Barbarian king. I dare say she appreciated him far more though, I've heard the two of them nearly every night, she brays like a beast, and the Quim can't get enough of him."

Taunts. Always with the taunts. A light dip of his head as if accepting the greeting from an old friend regardless of their current allegiances. " You came to all the way here. It'd have been rude not to say hello." The actions with the staff and then his foot drew his attention for a moment. " Say that again? " Tilting his head to the side as if he had been hard of hearing. " Was that hips... or was that lips? We both know you have neither... makes it a little difficult to understand you." Never once did the eyes of the Tsol Raa move from those of the Lich. " She is quite wild. I'd almost wage your life he'd send her back before he got close to anything you're suggesting." During his time bound Osiris had been binding his time. Gaining and focusing his strength. " Pardon me, I forgot. You don't have a life anymore do you? Enjoying the juicy taste of apples, gratifying in the aroma of a woman's perfume, or even feeling the warmth of their touch. Immortality was worth it, wasn't it? " This time Osiris was laughing. " The sands of time are changing, Dead One. But, you're not beyond forgiveness or salvation. " As that last statement emerged Osiris's form began to dissipate into a more ethereal state. " I only mention it because I know where your phylactery is. After all, I was the one who locked you away. " How was that for a bomb shell? Eventually, Osiris faded away.

Hmmnn.. Interesting now why didn't he vanish before after I got him.. He would say in his head watching the two interact until Osiris vanished. He too would soon disappear

"I could have lips if I desired, after all I had them when I made ill your frail female friend. That was quite amusing to watch, by the way. The way she hid in the burning forest from a foe far her better, the way she suffered in the heat and crawled around in the dirt like an animal." ::He strode closer to the barrier that kept them apart, that kept them from attacking each other out right.:: "Does it comfort you to know that I showed her mercy? Does it make you feel better to know that I did not use her in my experiments? Time indeed does march on, and I crack the whip that drives it. While you play in the muck like the child you are, I drive progress. While I may be dead, I
still know how to grasp at the sweet fruit that life brings, and I sink my fangs into it in the same way I sank them into the neck of your lover while she moaned for me. After all." ::He cast his arm out behind him towards the roof full of people.:: "What purpose do you think they serve, hmm? Why do I capture when I could kill?" ::He turned back, bellowing in a foreign language as the brutish hulk plowed through a wall and let people drop, his warriors filling in behind the tank of flesh and chaining prisoners. Once they had their fill, blades were plunged into the still stunned who lay upon the floor.:: "You did this. I would have let them live but your taunts have signed their death warrants. Your threats against my phylactery have garnered the death of every person in this building. Threats that are as hollow as the gaping chasm between your lovers’ legs after a night with the Barbarian!" ::He shouted as his foe faded away. With the nothingness before him, he made good on his words of slaughter before taking what prisoners he had back to the boats.::

[Nadja]

The night air was heavy, but not in the usual sense. After the attack last night, many were left in a state of confusion. Many of the noble houses had rallied to call to arms every available man, woman and child. One of the things about those born of Viking blood, all was able and capable of wielding weapons. Their dead had been carted off, and instead of burying, were burned upon the massive pyres created on the outskirts of the city. Usually by ship the dead would have been paid tribute to, but the masses of bodies made that near impossible, without giving up all the ships in the port. None ever expected Kiel to be converged upon, especially by things that were once hailed as legend, myth, or lore. Stories told to children around campfires, or to keep them snuggled beneath the blankets of their beds. Though none had the ability to fight against the magic they witnessed, they could do tangible damage to the men and undead that spread like a virus upon the Port City and outlaying lands.

The Stumble was no different, in the way all had taken to a prepared state. Those who had rented rooms had taken up arms; Radulfr stepped forth to draw upon his abilities from days long passed when he led armies upon the battle field. Men loyal to the owner of the establishment also arrived, even if the Norse woman was nowhere to be found.

Nadja was recovering from the injuries sustained when her Vardo was attacked by the Barbarians men. Refusing to be cooped up in a shell of a room, she and Lilly had negotiated a truce, so to speak, by allowing her to rest within the chairs that sat before the warm hearth of the common room with a light blanket wrapped about her shoulders.

"You are a resilient woman, Nadja Luciano..." there was little to announce the presence of Randell Daviun until he spoke, not even the pretense of a whisper as he brushed back the folds of his long, traveling cloak to reveal a cultured outfit beneath, furnished by his ever present wilting rose pin of ruby and onyx gemstones. "I am glad to see you're still alive, as the attack has claimed hundreds of lives."

Behind Randell, Khel stood. His own body was shrouded in that dark cloak, face hidden beneath cowl and hood. As his master began speaking with the girl nestled in her chair, Khel moved away from the merchant's flank, seeing out another within the inn. Stalking past the bar, he slid into the kitchen like a tangible shadow, his aura of heat taken with - and what was once first considered the hearth's influence seemed diminished in his retreat, the roaring flame becoming subdued. Khel found who he sought within a maze of pots and cutlery, scrubbing out the latest used for the evening meal. Lilly seemed like such a pure creature compared to the dark sentinel that approached her now, that rolling wall of heat and pressure encompassing her like a physical touch. Yet, there was no malice in that aura, nor danger... this was a more pleasant warmth, accepting and protective. As Lilly looked up at his shrouded features, Khel would brush his cloak aside, extending a hand. Within, he offered the slave girl a collection of vibrant wild flowers, still fresh and bright, unclaimed by the coming frost of colder months. "...for your kindness," Khel murmured, his voice a harsh rasp, but as gentle as he could manage. She might not recognize him as he was now, but that didn't matter. He owed this girl a lot more than simply flowers, but it... was a start.

When she heard her name, head slowly turned as did those dark eyes to befall upon the one who uttered it. She had not met Randell yet, at least that she could remember. When she was brought to the Inn by Rad the night prior, she wasn't awake, perhaps then? "I should give thanks to the grounds softness." Stated in an attempt to jest. "I'm also thankful that death chose to pass me by." Her voice was soft in nature, the words more a purr due to their enunciation complicated by the heavy accent. "Multumesc, Domnule." In response to his comment of finding her alive. "I have heard bits and pieces of what transpired, but none will answer meu questions fully as to just how many have suffered. I've not been allowed to leave to seek out answers for meu-self."


Lilly didn't look up when someone entered the kitchen, so many were in and out through the course of the day and into the night. So many now staying here, more food had to be cooked and prepared, and dishes to be tended to. But when she heard his voice, the small woman would turn to look up at him with those big brown eyes. She knew who he was, as she had treated his wounds for many hours before the man came to collect him. She soothed his brow when he cried out in pain, and whispered comforting words near his mutilated features. She had bathed his burned and tattered flesh, from where the molten metal had been stripped free of its hold. She feared not this man, though there was now something different about him. When he extended the flowers out to her, it brought a smile to her face. "Thank you for such a kind gesture, milord. I'm glad to see you have survived your wounds. You had me wondering." Quietly offered up to him.

"The attack was brutal," Randell stated with cold indifference, his gray eyes hard and keen, like the edge of a dagger. "Piles of dead were brought outside the city limits and lit aflame, less they be raised to join the ranks of those creatures that brought ruin to Kiel." Arms folded at the small of his back, Randell stepped beside her chair, staring into the hearth's fire, the bold cut to his features high-lighted by the soft glow of orange light. "They were rebuffed, if barely... though I do not believe their true intent was to capture the city. If the attack was pressed further, they might've come close to accomplishing it, but they pulled back. No, whoever arranged this had a separate goal." Frowning, Randell turned his gaze on the small woman. "And that alone should give us hope..." when Nadja remained quiet, Randell allowed himself a small, simple smile. "Oh, despite the death and destruction wrought that night, this... tactic is very telling of our enemy, Miss Luciano. They fear a direct confrontation with our chilly friend." Randell chuckled, but there was no mirth to the gesture. He turned back to the fire. "I also must apologize for missing our appointment last evening... I am Randell Daviun." The merchant spoke as if his carriage broke an axel on his way to the inn last night, and not the vicious attack that occurred. "How long till you're fully recovered?"

Listening as he spoke of the events and the numbers that had become victims. It made her situation seem trivial, but it also gave her a bit of understanding to what she witnessed last night. "There was a woman upon the road, but it wasn't a woman. She attacked Osiris shortly after meu Vardo was attacked and meu Piebald killed. Her hair grew and wrapped about him, binding him. It was shortly after the earth rose and swallowed them into it. The men who rallied in the shadows, they were quite human. They disappeared right after the strange woman and Osiris did. I suppose they felt I was of no interest, and left me for dead upon the road." Thankful she was they knew not of her abilities, or else she may have met some horrid fate. When he gave his name, his smile would be met by the serenity of her own. "Vreti, Domnule Daviun, call me Nadja." Offered with a slight bow of her head. "I had told Osiris of meu visions, of where the Nordic Dominisaora may be. They were only bits and pieces that I was able to understand. Though none of this was foreseen, so it makes me wonder from where the attack truly originated." Her own focus would turn back upon the dance of the fire. "They must fear him greatly, or are unsure of his powers. Perhaps last noapte was a challenge set to see how far he could reach." Glancing up at Randell. "The Ledger must be a very valuable thing to them, to go to such an extent to keep him from getting it." She didn't believe this was all due to the Nordic woman, she wasn't that powerful; that she knew of. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm fully recovered now. Though I'm being treated like a child by Radulfr and Lilly." Quietly complained.

"You sound like a petulant child," Randell agreed, as if not hearing the complaint in her voice. "Perhaps when you change your tone, they'll treat you differently?" he offered. When she turned to meet his gaze, the smile he wore bespoke of the jest. Regardless of her reaction, though, he'd turn back and consider the common room for a moment. "What last night showed us is that we can no longer afford to linger in Kiel, since Osiris has become that much of a target. Tomorrow, I will find him, and discuss our plans for retreat from the city, less we bring more trouble down on the people's heads. Rin is back in the city... you might not know him, but he's a ship's captain, and we will be using his vessel to leave Kiel and find our missing Nordic companion. By ready to leave with the dawn..." he finished with a curt nod. "...so it's best you rest now, for tomorrow will bring many changes." And with that, he began to step away.

Now this man was beginning to sound like Radulfr. Funny how conflict brings out the best and worse in men, and women too. When he chided her about the complaint, she nearly wanted to stick her tongue out at him; but refrained. The smile never wavered from its placement upon her lips, even when he no longer looked her way. "It's buna tu chose way by water. I told Domnule Osiris, water is one of the things that I see. Also men who feed upon men." Though it would be hard to say if it was Cannibals doing the destruction, or the undead. That part wasn't clear. To his command of being ready at dawn, she'd simply nod her head. "I will have to borrow a horse, since mine was murdered and meu Vardo rendered into a pile of rubble." Although the Viking warrior had returned to collect all her belongings and bring them here. "But I will be ready, Domnule Daviun."

Randell would just nod again - so long as she was ready. He would pause in the room's center, glancing toward the kitchen door, and as if summoned, Khel appeared, with a gesture, both black-cloaked men left the inn and into the night.


Whatever words had been shared between the bodyguard and Lilly, which was for them alone.