#curseshared

it came as no surprise that balduran had rushed up and out the door as soon as he'd made a full recovery ⎛ or what he deemed to be a full recovery; his chest no longer ached so badly, even though the scar would remain as a reminder of what had happened. of how he failed- ⎠with the intent of going on an adventure. he'd prepared a traveler's pack with food and water, and while it must've looked odd, he brought his sword. an adventurer should never go unarmed, he used to say.

not that balduran was defenseless- far from it. while he was far from at his strongest, the small amount of telekinesis that he could access did wonders- and being able to float effortlessly for as long as he wanted meant that he could avoid fights by passing would-be threats without a sound. maybe the limited telepathy would come in handy, although most people took poorly to having another voice in their head without warning-

in short, balduran was most certainly prepared to go on an adventure.

while he would've been fine adventuring on his own, there was something about traveling in a group that brought him joy- a sense of familiarity ⎛ of something that he almost had, something only slightly out of his reach. he lived through their minds and their eyes and their choices- he wanted to say that it was enough. he wanted to fill a void left in him ⎠and one that maybe, if he didn't come off as too forward, he'd be able to experience.

a woman had found a rather public space to organize some sort of expedition to a place called yesteryear. one place that balduran still hadn't explored, and one that he certainly wanted to. ❝ are you looking for an adventuring partner? ❞ maybe that sounds too eager. really, anything he says would come across like that, wouldn't it? because he is eager for an adventure.

Not thankfully was their sudden realization that they had forgotten someone very important. A pull of their collar to check, and there it was, those two great tears down their chest. The mark of their failure towards their friend. They had forgotten her for, oh they couldn't even begin to imagine.

While the driver could only take them to their home, they quickly got to work checking their phone's contact list to make sure Lilith was still here, if it even was the Lilith they knew. Not in her shared apartment, but in a shared home now! That must be nice, they think, guilt giving away partially to a pleasant perception of home as a place of peace. There was still enough time in the day, though, and she always struck them as a kind of night bird...

Once dropped off, they immediately turned around and found a train to Cotes, and from there, would begin treking out for the Mistwood. Ten miles wasn't much of a walk for them, so they decided to run as much as their little legs would carry them.

It was only as they stood next to a lone lampost surrounded by fog that they came to the realization that their phone refused to provide any information on where this 'Spirowl House' would be, what it looked like, and that their connection itself had been cut.

Though the term is frequently lobbed as an aspersion, cold-bloodedness is less an accusation and more a biological factor for you. At this time of year when the weather's warming up again the sun is your ally— but even you need a break from the heat now and again.

This forest's canopy of trees provides a pleasant escape from the city noise and you've been enjoying your time in the shade, half asleep against a tree and listening to nothing but animal sounds and light breezes... but apparently that can't last.

Light though they are, footsteps are slowly growing closer and each rustle of the foliage grates on the part of you that currently craves isolation. When they stop on the other side of the nearby brush, you part the branches in one swift movement with a scowl that could scorch the earth.

The idea of a little friendly competition didn't hurt. But Shadow wasn't entirely interested in forming a team just yet (he was sure someone would force him into it sooner rather than later) so, for now, he has chosen to go solo and be set up randomly with other participants who also want to tackle things alone for now.

It doesn't take long for him to get matched up with someone for the maze activity at least. And once they're given the objective, off into the maze they were ushered.

"Nothing in this one, either," the wizard murmurs almost defeatedly, slotting another book back into it's place on the shelf. immediately does he pluck another out, though, blowing dust from its cover and sending a silent, urgent prayer to whatever God would listen that this one would contain answers.

when Gale had heard of a "great library" he knew he had to head there at once. it was a gorgeous place thrumming with a magic he was unfamiliar with, but magic all the same. he had gotten to work looking around early in the morning, Tara off exploring other sections of the library with stern instructions to yell if she needed anything, but now it was nearing midday and he had nothing to show for his investigation.

a string of colorful words falls from his lips as the book in his hands turns out to be nothing but gibberish. it is then he also notices another person entering the shelves and his eyes flicker sheepishly from his book to them.

The mists of the Mistwood pervade and bleed into an unfamiliar stretch of forest. Stone statues of guardians lay broken and defaced in a literal sense, as if the features on their heads have been carved and scratched out in a fit of rage. The smiles on their faces are split like a broken lip, algae leaking from cracks in lieu of blood. Not even the skittering of insects can be heard through the place, let alone larger creatures.

The grave markers begin sparse--one here, one there. But the further one goes, the amount of people buried on this ground become sickening in number. The gravel walkway is slowly being overtaken by the forest mosses.

One of those portals that have cropped up in the city is vaguely visible through the treeline, further into the trees. The eyes of the wood almost look like they're wide open, staring you down. Fog curls into twisting faces, briefly visible and then gone. You can feel the courage draining from your body at merely the sight of the ordeal.

so isn't it just his luck he managed to find a library in this ornate castle? he hadn't even been looking for it. just exploring the grounds, maybe occasionally taking little sparkly things off his fellow party-goers. but now he's combing through rows of tomes, trying to find something that looks the least bit interesting to take home for himself.

he hasn't found anything yet and he's so engrossed in this task he might not have even noticed another person entering, were it not for the creaking of a door. he glances behind him.

"Their collection is garbage, I'm afraid."