Red blue and purple, the colors of evil(Invite only)

OoC:Well guys, if you got my invite, this is the place. this will be a quest. lets make it a good one! i will be using Ywen, link in sig!

BiC:A rancid smell filled Ywen’s nose and she tried to sit up but was tied down by thick ropes. She couldn’t reach any of her weapons, even the conveniently placed ones, and turned her head side to side, looking around. She was in a room filled with tables, no windows, and a set of stairs lay across the room.

I must be underground. Man, how did I get into this mess? She thought, searching for what had happened. Suddenly it all came back to her and she saw it in her head. She was walking along the trail, the sun just beginning to set and she was looking around for a spot to camp. She had walked under a tree when suddenly a glowing green net from out of nowhere lifted her into the trees, and then that's where she blacked out.

Footsteps brought Ywen from her mind and she opened her eyes. A short figure wearing a deep purple cloak, stood at her side. On the chest of the cloak there was a red skull with a blue stripe traveling vertically across the skull. Out of the skull’s mouth, a dark blue liquid poured out like a waterfall, widening to change the bottom rim of the cloak to blue. The figure seemed to glide over to her, and it removed the hood to reveal a man, but his age was totally unrecognizable. Ywen’s eyes widened as she was forced to look at his face, his lips and eyelids missing, his eyebrows and a large burn covering the top of his head. A tear ran down her cheek as a hand reached over and grabbed her chin, turning her head painfully to one side and then the other. He then flicked his wrist and the cloth untied itself and floated over to his outstretched palm.

“I see where are awake. Welcome, I am Abel” He said smiling. Ywen tried to scream but he covered her mouth with a clammy hand. He pulled out a small tube, covered with a stopper, but there was nothing in it. He popped on the bottle, and then he removed the hand and shook the bottle over her face. Ywen struggled, trying not to breathe as she felt a sudden tingling on her skin but her lungs burned and she breathed out, breathing in the invisible substance.

“Alright, tell me how you feel” Abel said.

“Give me the antidote you sick freak” She said as she coughed. He waved his finger, and held up a small vial filled with liquid.

“Not until you tell me” Abel said smiling.

She layed there for a second, but then she started screaming and the cloth wrapped around her mouth again as his skin melted away and his skull except for the eye balls and Abel opened his slimy jaw. A sludgy blue substance poured from his mouth and Ywen began to scream, tears rushing down her face.

“Good, GOOD” the skull said, blue sludge specks landing on her face. Ywen felt her limbs begin to shake, and soon she broke through the ropes holding her. She felt her hand close around a familiar shape and pulled out one of her knives. Flicking the knife at Abel, she sat up and tried to grab the vial as the knife struck him in the stomach. Her fingers closed around the glass vial and she popped the stopper, ripped of the cloth off and chugged it. It felt ice cold as it went down her sore throat and then she ran up the stairs. She burst through the door as the top of the stairs and began to run through endless corridors, heading this way and that, the image of the skull haunting her. She stopped and saw a smaller door and opened it. She ducked, and she was in a small room with a small ladder. She climbed onto the ladder, sliding down to the bottom, rubbing her hands. Even though she wore leather gloves, her hands burned. There was a pair of doors in the small room she was in and she burst through them. She found herself in the air as she ran out, a space of ~12 feet between her and the ground. She hit the ground rolling, and stood up, only to have her leg cramp. She fell to the ground and waited for the pain to pass and then continued on her way. She kept running, a slight limp in her leg, until she stopped to rest. Sitting on a log, she looked down, breathing heavily, wiping the tears from her eyes. Rubbing her hair and wiping her red face, she looked up slightly and she saw a pair of boots standing in the near dark in front of her.

Faolan rested against a tree, staring up at the sky. It was mostly clear, and the sun was slowly sinking off the sky to make room for twilight. There was a nice cool breeze, and the nomad was feeling relatively peaceful.

It was a rare feeling for him. He almost always had something to be doing, whether it be a quest or managing his lycanthropy. Luckily, not tonight; the moon was not to be full for roughly five nights. He sighed happily, taking the moment to reflect on his life so far.

At least until he heard foot falls. Here comes something, he mused as he stood up quickly, ready to draw sword and shield. He stepped closer to the path, and upon looking down it he spotted a thin figure sprinting headlong in his direction. From the pose, he deduced they were running from something... but what? He saw this sort of thing a lot when a villager flees a town that’s been raided; they always ran as though being chased. He braced himself inwardly in case he had to tour another gutted town. It happens too much... he thought sorrowfully.

Suddenly the figure slowed and stumbled off the path, collapsing onto a log and catching their breath. Figuring it was time to approach, Faolan strode toward the figure. As he got closer, he realized she was a wood elf. Wow! Faolan thought; he hadn’t met very many wood elves in his life, being as reclusive as they are, so his interest was piqued. Of course, this rare sight could also mean a rare problem. Especially considering that this wood elf looked very well armed and combat-ready indeed.

Faolan stopped short of the wood elf, realizing she was weeping and shuddering. By the gods... She looked up at him slowly, blinking hollowly. He hesitated; he never knew how to start these things.

“What’s the matter?” he asked plainly. The elf seemed to size him up for a moment, but mostly she looked simply afraid. A few moments passed in silence. Faolan looked up and down the road in case whatever was scaring her was coming this way. Seeing no sign of danger, he spoke again.

“What were you running from?” The elf shuddered a bit and spoke.

“Sick... mad men. They were doing... awful things.” She took a deep breath, pausing, “some kind of drug...” Faolan’s stomach dropped out. This sounded rather perverted.

“Are they chasing you?”

“No... who are you?”

“I’m Faolan,” he replied, giving the elf a deep bow, “I... I’m a knight.” He decided that would work; he was trained as one, after all, and he kept up all the standards. Being an exile made it rather hard to give oneself a decent title. Another pause.

“These people, where are they?” The elf pointed down the road where she’d come from.

“Somewhere that way... I... I’m not completely sure on the specifics.” Faolan drew his sword and made his way down the road, speaking over his shoulder.

“I’ll check it out.” Just when I think I’ve seen some infernal evils, he ruminated, a new one comes up to take the prize. Is there any end--?

“Wait!” the elf suddenly exclaimed just before he passed under some thick canopy. Faolan turned around and regarded her.

“Yes?” The elf beckoned him back.

“You better not go alone.”

“You’re not going back, are you?” he asked incredulously. She raised an eyebrow.

“Not alone, of course. Neither of us should go alone.” She seemed much improved now. Besides the occasional shudder, she seemed over her scare. “Just let me rest a few more moments.” Faolan debated it, but decided he should probably take a witness’ word for it. She looked like she could take care of herself anyhow.

“Oh, I’m Ywen by the way; you’re so polite to ask!” she said with a hint of a sarcastic tease.

Oh yes, she has certainly gotten over her scare.

A dark figure walked along, his eyes ablaze, he was walking along the path to the next town. "Cursed place... No good ale, not even firewhisky..." The figure scoffed. The green leaves on the trees around him made the area feel calm, quiet, and serene. Valan was almost enjoying the silence, the peace. But, that which is beautiful does not last, some heavy footsteps came from behind him, and a gravelly voice spoke, "Give me your money and no one will get hurt." Valan just turned around and pulled down his hood, the man sat there like a deer in the sight of a predator, then came to his senses. "Now, now.... Ummm..."
He fell on the ground and started sobbing, "Please don't hurt me! I have a wife and kids at home!!! I just needed the money!!" Valan just looked at him; the man was obviously lying... He decided to play along, "Tell you what; I'll spare your life if you tell me something, how far is the nearest town?"

"I'm not sure, milord... But, maybe not that far, I saw a knight walking along this path; I gave him a wide berth, I didn't want to bother an ar-" He looked around hastily. "I mean, I... Umm..."

"Fine, tell me which way this knight went and begone."

The bandit just pointed and ran off, looking back every so often to check that Valan was not following him. Valan just sighed, it’s been getting worse, he thought to himself; ever since that battle with the Dragon Reborn… He put a hand to the large scar on his chest. He lifted a sleeve; his tattoos were turning from a black to a blood red.

What is happening to me? He wondered. Oh well, best go investigate that knight… He wandered off, when he heard some more footsteps, but they came from the forest, he then heard some voices, one was a woman’s and she sounded distressed. The other’s was a younger man’s. Valan walked over to where the voices were coming from, when the woman’s voice suddenly changed into a more calm tone. Valan pressed the button on his belt, merging with the shadows. He waited a bit, the woman was still talking, but there was something familiar about her voice. Then it hit him, it was Ywen! Valan pressed the button again and walked through the bushes.

Faolan let out a gasp; he drew his sword, holding it threateningly, if it had not been shaking. “What are you!?” Ywen stood forward, a bit of distress still on her face, “Put down your sword Faolan, he’s a friend.” Faolan sheathed his sword hesitantly, Valan spoke up, “So, Ywen, I heard you earlier, you sounded distressed, what seems to be the problem?”

"Oh, hey Valan. Well I ran into some trouble and Faolon here was planning on helping me. Dear Gods i wish Shisho was here right now." Ywen said and shuddered slightly. Valan's face went cold, and he turned away for a second, but then he turned back, keeping a straight face.

"Well mind if i help?" Valan said. Faolon looked a bit worried, but kept his sword sheathed, still wary of Valan.

"Fine, if you want" Ywen said, he eyes distant, obviously her mind somewhere far off. She stood up, her green eyes glowing slightly in the dark and she grabbed some branches. Valan threw a ball of fire at the pile of sticks as she built them into a teepee, and sindged (spl?) a lock of Ywen's hair in the process.

"DANG IT!" Ywen cried as she felt the burnt end. She sat down, far from the fire, almost at the edge of the light, and Faolon gestured to a seat by the fire.

"Come join us" Faolon said putting his pack on the ground and taking off his gloves. Ywen looked at the flames licking the air and she pulled her knees up to her torso.

"I am fine here, thank you offering though Faolon" Ywen said pulling a pouch of dried meat out of her pack and distributed it to them.

"We leave in the morning guys" Ywen said.

and with that she pulled out a pillow and blanket and holding her meat, quietly chewed and fell asleep. Faolon made sure she was breathing slowly and then started talking to Valan.

"So how do you know each other?" Faolon asked, taking a bite.

Valan glanced at Ywen’s sleeping form, and then did an once-over on Faolan, keeping his face unreadable the whole time.

“We’ve traveled together before.” He finally responded carefully. Faolan figured this was a satisfactory answer, especially considering the tension between the two of them. He took another bite of his jerky, debating whether to ask his next question. He glanced over at the half-demon who was staring into the flames thoughtfully. It can’t hurt.

“Who’s Shisho?” Faolan finally asked after a moment. Valan’s face flickered for a moment, but remained as stoic as ever.

“He’s a mage... he and Ywen are close.” He didn’t look away from the fire at all as he spoke. Faolan glanced up at the sky. He spotted the half-moon just cresting the horizon, and he was devoutly thankful it wasn’t full. Then he looked at the woods around him. Dangerous psychopaths nearby, away from civilized lands... he mused. Someone should take watch. With that thought, he wolfed down his jerky, put his gloves back on and stood up.

“You should get some sleep Valan, I’ll take watch.” He announced as searched around for a suitable station. Valan had his own ideas, though.

“You?” he chuckled mockingly, “You’re only human; no night vision, no sense of smell, not to mention you’d get tired much faster than me.” Faolan gritted his teeth under his helmet. If only you knew, Valan, if only you knew...

“On my honour, sir. I am a knight, and I shall—“

“Enough about your honour kid.” Valan cut in, standing up as well, “You get to bed, I’m taking watch.” They initiated an unannounced staring contest, but it didn’t last that long. Get to bed, Faolan thought, you’re not making any friends this way. So he grudgingly looked away and nodded.

“Okay... good luck.” He mumbled as he began to remove his armour. Valan looked satisfied, and with a jump, took to the skies for a bird’s-eye-view. He does have the advantage of flight. he mused as he unpacked his bedroll.

As he lay under the blankets staring up at the first stars dotting the sky, he occasionally saw the form of Valan flying above him and Ywen, keeping vigilant watch over their position. Faolan rolled onto his side, finally closing his eyes and dozing off.

Ywen's green eyes flicked open as she awoke for no appearent reason. The stars shown brightly, but clouds were in the edge of the sky, soon it would rain. Sitting up, her blonde hair falling down to its natural place, she looked around the small clearing. It was still dark, around 3 she guessed and stook in a deep breath. She liked the night air, it was refreshing, and there was this little knot that always seemed to untie when she breathed in the fresh air. She lay back down, and she heard a twig snap far off. Her ears naturally pinpointed to the direction, and she lay still. Then she heard a grunt and she slowly moved a hand to her blade. A louder grunt was heard, and she tensed, trying to ly still. A stick was tossed out, and she didn't move, knowing the trick. If i were asleep i would not move she thought, when suddenly, large figures burst out of the bushes, roaring with all of their might. Faolon jumped awake, grabbing his blade and shield, leaping into action. Ywen swung her short sword at the closest one while rolling forward and onto her feet, and roar was heard. She and Faolon backed up to each other, and their foes surrounded them. Orcs, large orcs. Their green hands curled around large axes, and they wore spiked leather armor, about 6 in all. One stood a head above the rest and he wore steel armor and wielded a large sword and shield. they charged forward, roaring, and Ywen turned on her belt, melding with the night. Faolon looked around, and paniced, thinking Ywen had abandoned him. He parried attack after attack, fighting ferociously. After downing an orc, he noticed a knife fly out from nowhere and nail an orc in the throat. Another shot out from nowhere, nailing an orc in the thigh. Then a blade slid into the chest of the orc and then Faolon looked up as Valan flew down from the sky.

Faolan gave a hasty hail to Valan and promptly ducked the savage swing of an orc with a cleaver. He came back up and thrust his sword deep into the orc’s throat. With a gurgle, the orc collapsed as Faolan slid his bloodied sword out and brought it around to behead another. One left, he calculated as he turned around. Unfortunately he was just a little too late. He brought his shield up frantically but it was no use, the mace was already on a collision course with his head.

It wasn’t a direct hit – luckily – it merely clipped the top of his head. Even so, it was quite the blow. Everything went black for a split second that felt like half a minute as he felt himself tumble freely through the air and land on his back – hard. The wind was knocked out of him on impact, and he tried desperately to clear his thoughts. The orc was looming over him, mace raised for a killing stroke.

Just before Faolan rolled out of the way, a throwing knife glinted silently through the night and buried itself firmly in the orc’s cranium. The creature let out a wail as it collapsed over backward, dead before touching the ground. There was a moment of silence as Faolan’s brain slowly exited combat mode, and he looked around at the aftermath. Lots of dead orcs; one headless, one with a new hole in its neck, and three with knives poking out of them. The stench was going to be terrible. We’ll have to move camp.

But just then Faolan was realizing his head was going to be worse. It felt as though the mace was still burrowing into his head forcefully, and he moaned in pain as he rolled onto his side, cradling his head. Bloody ambush... He was only dimly aware of his two companions speaking and moving about him, and hands pulling his own away from his head.

“Let me see— You were on watch, Valan!” he heard Ywen say caustically as she helped him up. Valan said something defensively in response.

“Then look the right way next time!” Ywen retorted. Faolan became slowly aware that she was fingering through his hair to get a look at the wound. “Mmm, nothing serious... you’ll be alright.”

“Right,” he responded quietly, rubbing his head as Valan and Ywen continued arguing. Too tired to intervene, he simply looked up at the sky, trying to get reoriented. The wind was still blowing lightly, pleasantly cool on his combat-heated body. It was really early in the morning. About two to four, he estimated. He looked back between Ywen and Valan, each of them looking daggers at each other and taking turns at volleying the other with accusations.

“C’mon you two,” Faolan cut in impatiently, “my head hurts like the Ninth Hell.” Though the pair still looked resentful of each other they stopped arguing, to his utmost relief. Four more nights to the full moon, he thought automatically to himself. He walked unsteadily over to his bed sheet and flopped down, massaging his scalp. The camp was silent, but he could still sense the tension between Valan and Ywen.

“Right,” he began uncertainly, “little orc ambush. Not a big deal; nobody got hurt, and this headache’ll be gone in a bit.” He paused, trying to gauge whether or not he was helping alleviate the hostilities. His social sense failed him – as usual – so he plunged ahead to be sure.

“Let’s just rest for an hour or two more – no need to actually sleep, I don’t think. Then we’ll set out to find these madmen Ywen told us about. As originally intended.” There was short pause and then the other two assented to the idea. Satisfied, Faolan reached absently into his pack for his water skin, which he took a long swig from.

The time whittled away as the members of the group did their own things to keep themselves occupied. The sun was just cresting the horizon when the hour came, and the wind had subsided to a gentle breeze. The soft rustling of the leaves contrasted the group’s sense as they gathered themselves up and set out with Ywen in the lead to find her captors.