#gcldenbled

Cities were confusing inventions, full of winding paths and narrow rivered streets that didn’t lead to anywhere of value. He remembered going to some as a very young boy, selling pelts and meats with his father to procure what could not be gathered, but it didn’t take Rawn long to realize he didn’t need anything a town had to offer. 

So now that he was in one, every building looked the same. 

His friends had told him that people were normally willing to help and not to be afraid to ask for directions, but......

@gcldenbled

There was something calming about the forest that reminded Echo of his childhood. Of days spent teaching his siblings to climb trees and daring each other to eat worms. Silly things children often did to pass the time when there was nothing else around to do. The pleasant scent of dirt, leaves, and bark settled into his lungs as he sat comfortably against a tree. It had been years since he had actually gone into a forest, adulthood had brought him into the city after all leaving the gentle green forest of his youth behind so that he could support himself without burdening others.

While Narcissus was pleased about keeping Echo as what was essentially a pet Echo had yet to really get used to the loss of his independence. He was allowed to do as he pleased and live as he liked but there was a distinct lack of purpose and responsibility that sat heavy in his chest and caused him to wander often. The warm and delightful scent of the forest had called to him, soothing something inside of him that he had not realized needed it.

The sorcerer is loathe to touch the statue, already shuffling further backwards a little closer to the woman with a hand clutching at the long, flowing fabric of his jacket to keep it from getting dirty. A dramatic response? Perhaps so. But he was familiar enough with mischief and trickery that his only immediate reaction was one of disgust rather than fear.

               “It wouldn’t be our problem if we just left. Doesn’t that sound simpler?”

I’ll just check what's there, don't need to panic.

Usually, after such words you realized that there indeed was a reason to panic. Ivakir was not one of those people who should be taken to dark and evil dungeons. Unless you wanted to commit suicide. As soon as the deadly curious witch pressed a button that was clearly not worth pressing, the statue began to cry blood. Ivakir was looking at the statue, but the statue was not looking at Ivakir (which was alright, because if the statue looked at the witch, she would definitely have shitted in her pants). It was a woman, probably some kind of goddess, with such rounded shapes that it seemed that the man who made her had never seen a real woman.

The witch moved closer and dipped her finger in a red liquid. Whether the statue was cursed or not, she had to check it on herself.

Hmmm, it tastes like water.

"Yeah, it’s blood," the witch said her expert opinion after taking a red finger out of her mouth. She clearly didn't know the feeling of self-preservation. Crying statue in “bloody” tears. How typical. Ivakir examined the statue from all sides to make sure that blood flowed only from eyes.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me that you are scared of busty weeping woman," Iv wiped her hand on the statue's ass. "We can't leave. We haven't checked everything here."

Continued from [here]

"Oh..ah..its, no one, really...some Oracle lady..."

Regius hadnt even noticed the elf nearby while thinking aloud. He kicked himself for letting his guard down, even though the elf seemed friendly.

Long fingers trace the edges of elaborate cover. A gift, which the mage has not expected to find on his desk. Yet he did not quite mind. Carefully did he lift the large tome, making it seem so much lighter than it actually was. (Perhaps it was years of inurement in handling books like those, perhaps a small help of magic.)

The title as well as the author’s initials held little familiarity to him, and Ebon, having read texts in hundreds by this point lingered on the lettering in mild curiosity. Gaze as if commanding the tome’s secrets to unfold before him. – The only thing secret being the short note that slipped out as the pages were flipped softly.

Ebon found it peculiar. – He wasn’t sad. So there was nothing to cheer up in the first place.

IAN had been constantly glancing behind his back whilst the stranger talked to him. He, after being asked the question by the other, collapsed onto his knees - trembling as the threat of tears stinged in his eyes.

“I need help.” he responded weakly. “Anything. Everything. Please, just - I need help.”