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"You're an interesting little thing, aren't you...?"
A sympathetic sigh - whether for her own sake or his - escaped her lips as she tilted her head to study the stranger. “Am I?” Vivienne’s voice had taken on more of a honeyed tone, all while she batted her eyelashes.
“And how so?” Unsure if he meant it threateningly, slender fingers grazed the hilt of the measly blade, strapped to her thigh.
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Dolsos squinted at the woman from behind his mask. Stroking his beard, he contemplated the possibility of being wrong for a short moment…
No. He was never wrong. His nose and his instincts were never wrong. Thousands of years made sure of that.
“Do not lie to me, ma’am. It is bad to hide the where-abouts of vampires and Daedra worshippers. In fact, ‘tis punishable by death.” The Crusader dropped the head of his war-hammer upon the floor for emphasis of the final word.
She flinched at the sound of the heavy weapon hitting the floor, but she didn't let that discomfort show on her expression. Instead she crossed her arms in front of her and looked him straight in the eye, defiance glimmering in her own eyes despite the questions running through her mind.
❝I am not hiding anything you brute, how many times do I have to repeat it.❞
The man was determined, probably an experienced hunter. The fact that she couldn’t see his face unnerved her even more, if he hurt her she wouldn't know who he was.
"You reek of death, blood and disdain."
❝As does half of this land, now leave me at peace.❞
"Interesting... A Switch-Axe user.. What model is that weapon, friend? Can't say I've seen that axe before, honestly. Most of these new weapons are odd. Except for my Desert Rose."
“What, this old thing?”
She’d watched the hunter approach, wrapped head-to-toe in pink. Good first impression so far, she liked pink. Anantha pulled the big, clunky weapon off her back, letting it unfold with a heavy ka-chunk as it settled into its axe shape. She gave him a friendly smile as she set it down in front of him.
“S’called Azure Straybloom. Comes from the same beastie you’ve covered yourself in, my friend.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Well, her and her mate, anyway.”
It would take a considerable amount of generosity for this place to even be called a hamlet. At least it made navigating pretty easy though. Tristan walks into the ring of the campfire’s light just as the effervescent storyteller flung his arms open with a booming exclamation that sent all the huddled children (and some adults who were utter shit at acting) squealing with glee at the conclusion of the tale. It made the perfect cover for Tristan to steal someone’s spot on the log.
“Again! Tell it again!”
“No, new story! Please tell a new story!”
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veinsofiron started to follow you
The young adult elf kept her hood up as she was in a new place. Her pale skin was stark against the grey, green and brown of her traveling gear. Under it there was fitted armor with places for her skin to breath at the joints as it seems like she was not fond of thick or heavy armor. Or the heat as she weaved in and out of the shadows of shops to avoid the direct heat of the day. There were a few people she bumped into but softly apologized. Her pale white skin like snow marked her as strange sight for the city as she was a snow elf with hair like black ice. Yellow eyes moved about showing she still retained her sight and she just appeared to be exploring at the moment
veinsofiron:
“Vampires are scum. Zhey are evil, and zhey prey on zhe weak and zhe old. Zhey all deserve zhe same death I have given zhis one. Zhough, I’m more inclined to crush zheir skulls zhen stab vith zhe stake.” The Crusader dropped the head of his hammer onto the skull of the deceased vampire, spattering the brains and pieces of bone across the floor before spitting on the corpse. “Now, move. Zhere are many more to slaughter.”
Jerking back and falling on her tailbone as the vampire’s skull was crushed, Faenil swallowed nervously and got back up. “Who did you say you were doing this for, again? Or, what?”
She would follow him, of course -- this strange man seemed to know what he was doing. If he said vampires were scum... well, paired with her own buried knowledge of them that she was still digging up, she’d believe that.
“He’s dead, let’s move on.”
Faenil shook her head, slowly dropping to one knee and examining the corpse before them. “This is a vampire, then?” she asked, more to herself than to her companion.
The word had meaning to her, and none of those meanings were good. A couple names she couldn’t recognize and a massive castle-looking fortress came to mind as she spoke it. Death, too -- close calls and the stink of it, far stronger than what she was picking up on now. ...Dogs? Why dogs? Why all this?
She was aware of how ignorant she must have sounded, but really, who could blame her? ...Well, anybody could. She wasn’t entirely sure of her excuse for that, having woken up with no knowledge of her surroundings or self weeks prior.
“So why did you kill him?” It was hardly accusatory, how Faenil asked him, simply innocent curiosity.
