From the Mists of Legends

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Re: From the Mists of Legends

Post by Guilty Carrion on Sun Feb 24, 2013 8:40 pm

There had been many a moment in Cameron’s life that he would briefly pause and consider the exact legality of what he was about to do. Staring blankly up a series of steps to a rather stout abode, he idly stroked his goatee with his free hand while the siren escorting him was happily ensnared around his arm. “Having doubts?” Kalliope’s sing-song voice teased playfully, but she seemed to be reading him rather well.

“You’re asking for a shakedown.” He dryly commented; stuffing his hand into the pocket of his jacket as his eyes flicked to her with boredom. “I’m not much of a saint, but aren’t I technically law enforcement down here?” She pursed the slender red of her lips, tapping her finger on them in ways that stole his attention from his thoughts.

“I suppose that’s true, in a way.” She tilted her head slightly, thick tresses rolling as she looked up at him with those entrancing eyes. “This would be troublesome if I was asking a Hetja to do this.” He watched impassively, already getting a feel for the Siren’s curious mentality. “Consider this freelance work. I’ll ‘pay’ you by taking you to the location Draconis provided my aunt, and there will be no debts between us.” Releasing his arm, she gave a soft laugh. “Unless you want to trust your sense of direction, that is.”

Watching the siren move gracefully back along the street they’d come, Cameron gave an irritated sigh as his eyes rolled back up to the house atop the stairs. “Not much of a bloody choice.” He could hear another laugh over his shoulder, and he waved two fingers as he climbed the steps two at a time. The Scot hesitated for only a moment at the top, examining the slightly smaller than average house with a skeptical frown before knocking lightly with his knuckles.

The building was still, so he gave a slightly harder knock this time. Still nothing. “Perfect…” He muttered; looking off the way Kalliope had gone. She’d assured him the bastard was home. How exactly was he supposed to get what she wanted? Breaking and Entering wasn’t on his to-do list. Slamming his fist on the door roughly, he was rewarded for his impatience by the sound of movement on the other side. “Oi. Open up.” He thumped his hand against the door, which he was quickly realizing was actually stone, not the wood he’d thought it was.

Moments later, it creaked open, revealing a short man, stout much like his home, with a beard so massive it nearly surpassed his stomach. Bloodshot eyes stared blankly below bushy brows that furrowed in confusion at his presence on the doorstep. “What ya want.” The little man’s voice was thick with liqueur, which was the last thing on the list he needed to check the stunty off as a dwarf.

“I’m here from the Anthemusa, on behalf of Galene and Kalliope. Apparently you haven’t paid your tab, and have been dodging them whenever they come by to collect.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the Hetja stared down idly at the drunkard as the gears took a few moments to turn and process what was exactly being said. “Hand it over, and I can be on my way.” He instructed, and the dwarf blinked impassively.

“Blow it out your arse.” Moving to shut the door, the dwarf had little luck as Cameron placed his palm firmly on the stone. “Piss off.”

“You’re beginning to do just that, actually.” Taking a step across the threshold, the Hetja glared down at the dwarf who happily returned the gesture. “Don’t make this anymore difficult than it needs to be, Stunty, I am not someone you want to fuck with.”

“Some brass on you to come into my house and say that.” With a grunt, the dwarf slammed his foot down on Cameron’s booted foot. Barely wincing, he wasted no time lifting his foot forcibly, his greater strength and height easily unbalancing the dwarf who stumbled back a step. “I ain’t paying a red cent for some rat piss and gill-girls!”

“Listen you…wait.” Cameron straightened slightly, cocking his head at the dwarf. “Not just the booze, but the women?” The dwarf smirked arrogantly, although that was promptly smashed off his face by the furious hook that laid him out flat on his back. “The drink is one thing, but you don’t fucking make them wait for their due! No one deserves putting up with your dank ass stink for an I.O.U! Gimme the fucking money!”

The dwarf picked himself up, hand slamming on the cluttered hall table of the small hall they stood in. His hand shifted through the tankards and garbage for only a moment before coiling around a handle in the mess. “Come and get it.” He hissed, tugging a sizable hammer free of the mess as Cameron sighed angrily.

“Shoulda just beat the shit out of you.” He muttered, stalking forward in the cramped quarters as the dwarf stomped closer to club him. It wasn’t hard to gauge the range of the drunk’s swings, and it was with some delight that the Scot noticed his superior arm length meant he could cherry tap the dwarf with relative impunity.

Tiny jabs did nothing much damage wise, but it certainly fanned an already volatile temper lacking the proper thought of sobriety. Every swing of the hammer seemed to be swung harder, and most of the impacts were making tiny dents in the stone walls of the dwarf’s home. Cameron stepped back through one of the small doorways, nearly tripping on a tankard laying on the ground, with the dwarf in ‘hot’ pursuit.

“Alright, that’s seven swings, self-defence seems like excuse enough.” With a slightly larger area to work in, the fight began proper. A quick sidestep brought the two in close, leading to an elbow strike to the top of the dwarf’s head. Hissing and clutching the spot, the dwarf was ill-prepared by the follow up strikes that hammered at his temples, before a prompt boot clocked his head against the table edge.

Taking a step back, Cameron watched in dull amusement as the dwarf seethed from his spot on the floor. “I told you to just give me the money.” He commented dryly, eyes flicking around the room for any sign of said cash. “I’ll take what’s due, and then get out of your hair, yeah?”

Glaring harshly, the dwarf jabbed a finger towards the far side of the room at a small chest sat unassumingly in the corner. Crossing with a quick “Bout time”, he flicked the top of the chest open only to find it full of various half empty bottles and cheap-looking wine. The second he straightened, something collided with the back of his head. “Fuck!” Swearing roughly, he nursed the back of his head as cold liquid dripped down the back of his shirt.

Silently fuming, the Hetja turned fully back to the dwarf, who was already in the process of tossing another tankard which was promptly batted out of the air with a furious ease. “You stunted little fuck! Play time is fucking over!” Storming across the room, Cameron gripped the thick of his beard with both hands and hoisted the short Mythic clean off its feet. The dwarf thrashed and kicked against his chest, but Finlay’s vest made them all feel feather light to the angered Scot, who wasted little time slamming the dwarf onto his table.

The heavy thud that sounded as the thick meat slammed against the surface was like music to his ears, and Cameron quickly went for a repeat performance. Hoisting the dwarf with a grunt of exertion, he ignored whatever pained groans the mythic gave before slamming it back into, and unfortunately for his victim, through the flimsy wood. Panting slightly, he glared down at the sprawled dwarf and raised his foot for a well-deserved stomp when a sharp whistle to his left stopped him in his tracks.

“That’ll be enough.” Kalliope called lightly, a mild expression of surprise on her face as she surveyed the damage he had done in the brief period of time. “Seems I was rather on the mark about you.” Cracking his shoulder, Cameron looked back down at the dwarf quietly, debating whether or not to take another kick.

“And what would that be?”

“You’re like something of a dog on a chain, aren’t you?” She stepped across the room, delicately entwining her arms around his dangling limb and giving a gentle smile. “I can practically feel it pounding beneath your skin. You’re dangerous.” Huffing, he opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a finger pressed to his lips. “Thank you. I’ll lead you to the gates now.”

Regardless of his thoughts, she pulled softly on his arm and he found himself complying without any protest. As they stepped out of the short doorway, the familiar figure of Zach moved inside, likely to handle the aftermath and actual collection part of this ‘job’. Several of the Mythics nearby cast suspicious glances as the pair descended down the steps, and he swore the siren’s smile grew at the attention they were receiving. “Why couldn’t you ask the big guy?”

“We’re a rather docile species. Zach is more than capable of handling a dwarf, but they’re protectors, not warriors…” She flicked her gaze up to Cameron with an impish smile. “Or attack dogs, for that matter.” The comparison wasn’t appreciated, but he gave no comment to the woman as they started down the boulevard. Kalliope said nothing more on the subject, happily shortening his strides to a leisurely stroll that made this feel less like an escort and more like some odd ‘date’. “We’ve told Draconis that we’ll deliver you safely, and they should be contacting your team so they don’t waste time looking for you.”

“You know I had a team down here?” He wasn’t surprised, not overly. The siren seemed very well aware of what was going on in the Undercity, even if she hid it behind a perfect veneer of fragility. Her infectious giggle made him smirk, but he still avoided the probing eyes looking up at him.

“Draconis is not always as subtle as they like. I know more than you might think I do.” She tapped her cheek with a playful wink at his suspicious glance. “Can’t say, I’m afraid. Girl has to have her secrets, or you’ll get bored and wander off.”

“If I wander off, I’m likely to get into another fight before long…or lost.”

“Or eaten. You’d make quite the tasty morsel if I was so inclined…” Was that a compliment, or something vague enough to be counted as a threat? In the interest of going home today, he just listed it as the former and cast it from his mind, just in time for the familiar glint of silver to catch his eye. “A harmonica? A musician, are you? Or just a fan?”

Blinking once in surprise, he made a grab from the small instrument, but she tugged it out of reach and continued her inspection. Setting his jaw, he held out his hand expectantly as he answered. “Yeah, I play a bit. Give it back.” Running her finger along the weathered comb of the harmonica, she gave a faux pout before placing it light back in his hand.

“A blues harp, correct?”

Cameron was caught off guard by the correct identification, and nodded lightly. “Yeah, a Richter-tuned. Not often I run into someone who knows that…” She smiled, and he returned it lightly. “I shouldn’t be surprised, a siren knowing about music. You probably book entertainers all the time for the club.”

“Galene handles that, actually.” They walked down the street in silence for several minutes, Cameron idly spinning the harmonica in his grip as his eyes took in the still curious surroundings. It was only as the massive gate came into view that they came to a stop, and Kalliope released his arm. “Well then, I trust you can walk a straight line without getting lost, hm?”

“I’ll manage. Thanks for the help.”

Nodding, she glanced toward the gates with a slightly wistful look, speaking quietly. “I would ask a favour of you, Cameron.” The Hetja followed her gaze, pocketing his harmonica as he waited for her to continue. “When you get to the surface, would you be willing to check in on someone for me? I rarely have time to go up these days, with business as it is.”

“A favour gets a favour, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Sure. Where and who?”

“Her name is Korinna, and from the last time we spoke, I believe she has been working in a local pub, known as The Regent?” She paused for a moment as he tapped his chin in thought, before nodding quietly. “A quick check up is all I want. If you mention me, she might give you a discount.”

“Sounds simple enough.” Starting towards the gate, he moved to wave, only to pause and fix the woman with a look. “Is she a siren?”

“We’re permitted outside of the city, if that’s what you’re wondering. You only knew what I was because you’re a Hetja after-all.” Kalliope teased, twirling a strand of her hair round her finger. “Yes, she is a siren. My daughter, actually.” The revelation didn’t seem to overly faze him, and she stuck her lip out playfully. “Don’t act so surprised.”

“When my job’s become dealing with supposedly fake creatures all day, a woman looking like you and being a mother isn’t really much of a shock.” He scratched his cheek, grinning slightly. “Besides, if you don’t know a woman’s age, assume it’s 20 until told otherwise. Works pretty well.” He started walking once more, even as he felt the siren’s eyes on his back. “I’ll check in on her, just remember that you owe me one.”

“Of course, but I have one last question for you, Cameron.” She called, and he paused in his stride, not even bothering to look. “How does a musician become a Hetja?” He stiffened slightly, fists tightening at his sides as he turned back to the curious Mythic.

“Not by choice.”

The two said nothing more, the Hetja quietly stalking through the crowds towards the gates while Kalliope watched his retreating figure with quiet interest. Only once he had disappeared into the press did she turn and head back the way she’d come, coy smile spread elegantly on her lips.
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Re: From the Mists of Legends

Post by Digital Muse on Sun Mar 24, 2013 1:14 pm

After ensuring that his wayward Doctor was physically intact, Joe helped her to her feet and turning on his heels, headed back out to one of the main streets with a crooked finger at Richard and Catherine to follow. He completely ignored Catherine’s question about Cameron, she was smart. She’d figure it out. At the junction of the alley that Catherine had been in and the street that crossed it, Joe paused to look for familiar landmarks to get his bearings before turning left and striding away with dark determination.

Joe worked his way back to the main thoroughfare that bisected Under City. An occasional look back over his shoulder ensured that Richard and Catherine were still with him. “Stay close.” He growled unnecessarily. Even though Joe had no idea where the Scot had gotten off to, he obviously had a specific destination in mind as he made his way down narrow streets and around corners. After what felt like miles, the Wulver, Billie’s, house came into view again.

Joe rapped his knuckles sharply against the enormous door. After a few minutes, there was still no answer making Joe swear under his breath. Turning to face the street once more, Joe tried to think where to even start to look for Cameron. The Scot didn’t know the lay out for the Under City, so he couldn’t have headed for a specific place.

An eerie, malevolent laugh sounded in Joe’s head. One down, two to go, Joe. Are you saving them for something special? All you have to do is walk away. Just like before.”

Joe winced and pressed his fingers to his temple for several minutes while Justine played in Joe’s head, by sending shooting pains and twisted images of his partner, Ross, being torn apart by Vampires. Joe struggled in silence as he tried to shut Justine out of his mind. But, in the Under City, the ghost was far stronger than in the world above. ”I like it down here, Joe. I think we should stay. I can, you know. I can do whatever I want and you can’t do a thing about it.”

Joe gritted his teeth, a growl squeezed out from his throat and he lost all color from his face. The pain intensified forcing Joe to stagger slightly. He reached out to steady himself against the corner of Billie’s house. Almost panting in desperation, Joe tried to control his breathing so that he could try to fight off Justine’s devastating influence. Bit by bit, Joe used the meditation techniques Mr. Aziza had taught him to relegate Justine to a small corner of his mind. While the pain dissipated, he could still hear her laughter. ”Soon, Joe. Soon you won’t be able to shut me out. I’ll win.” Nausea followed the cessation of the pain in his head, leaving Joe weak. He took a few minutes trying to get his wits back.

Before he could completely recover, his cellphone trilled in his jacket pocket. Fumbling to get the phone from his pocket, Joe grunted, “Yeah?”

There was a momentary pause on the other end before Alice snapped. “You failed. You actually allowed your team to get separated and from the sound of your voice, Justine has interfered again.” The venom in the Sea Hag’s voice was clear even through the phone. “Mr. Aitken is being escorted back to the exit. Meet him there immediately.” The line was disconnected without another word from the woman.

Joe snapped his phone shut and stuffed it back into his jacket pocket. “They found Cameron.” He muttered. “We can meet him at the exit.” Joe rolled his shoulders back, trying to throw off the remnants of the pain Justine had him in the grips of. He didn’t look into the eyes of Catherine or Richard. He couldn’t explain anything right now. “Come on. Let’s get back before anything else goes wrong.” He shouldered past his remaining team members. Leading them through the twisting streets, the trip to the massive security door was far quicker than it had been coming in since Joe was going in as straight a line as the streets would allow.

Approaching the reinforced steel door, Joe was relieved to see Cameron had arrived before them. He approached the Scot and his eyes swept over the man to ensure he wasn't injured. The smell of alcohol and lowered brows on the man made Joe purse his lips. "Have a good time, Aitken?" He asked sarcastically.

Joe turned to key the password into the security panel in the door. He was not looking forward to the inevitable meeting with Alice. “Alright.” He took a deep breath, “Let’s go face the music.”
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Re: From the Mists of Legends

Post by Silvan Arrow on Sun Mar 24, 2013 4:26 pm

Joe didn’t waste any time with pleasantries or even acknowledge Catherine’s question about Cameron’s whereabouts. He simply turned on his heel and stalked away, beckoning with a finger for her and Richard to follow. Startled, Catherine quickly plucked Pip off her shoulder, eliciting a tiny yelp from the little brownie, and set him gently on the ground with his nearly empty jar of honey. “Sorry, Pip, but Miss Kitty has to go home. Bye!” she said hurriedly as she started walking to catch up.

“Wait, Miss Kitty!” Pip’s teeny voice trailed after Catherine as he tried to jog after her and quickly deemed it a lost cause. He called after, “Miss Kitty come visit again soon! And Pip visit Miss Kitty!”

“Uh…yeah! Sure!” she called back over her shoulder. Catherine didn’t hear much of what Pip said, only something about visiting, and Joe and Richard were already ahead of her. Not wanting to get lost again, she pushed any thoughts of her little brownie entourage out of her head and broke into a jog to catch up with her teammates.

A tense silence fell over the group as Joe led them at a brisk walk back through the Under City. By this time, Catherine assumed that Cameron had also gotten lost and that Joe was trying to retrace their steps to find him. She wanted to say something or ask if they had any leads, but, even following from behind, she could tell by the tense set of his shoulders and sharp gait that he was in no mood to talk. He finally broke the silence by growling at them to stay close, making Catherine flinch unnecessarily. She exchanged an uneasy glance with Richard and followed just a little closer until they came to Billie’s house again.

The Wulver didn’t answer when Joe knocked, meaning they had no leads to finding Cameron. Catherine racked her brain for some helpful suggestion, but before she could say anything, Joe suddenly winced and pressed his fingers to his temples like he had a headache. “Um…sir?” Catherine ventured. “Are you okay?” She gasped in fright when his face went completely pale and he staggered against the wall, gasping in pain. “Joe!” She rushed to his side, mentally slapping herself for not bringing a first aid kit and worried that he would pass out any second, but stopped just shy of touching him. She couldn’t put a finger on why, but something in the back of her head told her to keep her distance.

Fortunately, whatever was plaguing Joe seemed to subside, and he spent a few minutes in silence regaining his composure. Catherine stood nearby, wanting to help but not daring to risk making it worse or angering him for whatever reason. The blessed sound of a cell phone broke the tense silence, but any relief Catherine felt abruptly vanished when Joe answered. She couldn’t make out any words, but whoever was on the other end sounded absolutely furious. “They found Cameron,” Joe announced when he hung up. “We can meet him at the exit.” Catherine breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She wanted to ask if he was okay after his little “episode,” but he refused to meet hers or Richard’s gaze and simply said, “Come on. Let’s get back before anything else goes wrong.”

The trip back to the reinforced steel gate took less time than when they had arrived. Cameron leaned nonchalantly against the door, waiting for them, and Catherine had never been more relieved to see the grouchy Scot in her life. Joe sarcastically asked if he had enjoyed himself, but Catherine exclaimed, “Cameron, where in heaven’s name have you been?” As they got closer, she gave him a quick onceover for any missing body parts and abruptly raised her eyebrows at the strong scent of booze on his clothes. “And…why are you covered in alcohol?”

“You like seeing? Then shut up before I bruise your eye shut.”

Catherine visibly flinched at the harsh response. ‘Geez…sorry for being worried…’ she thought silently.

Before Cameron could get any angrier, Joe fortunately stepped between them and keyed in the password for the door. “Alright,” he announced, visibly steeling himself, “Let’s go face the music.”

Catherine dreaded the fallout they were likely to face once they got back to the conference room. She particularly didn't look forward to facing Alice, as they no doubt would. She gulped, “We’re…in trouble, aren’t we?”

Last edited by Silvan Arrow on Fri Apr 26, 2013 7:45 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: From the Mists of Legends

Post by quakernuts on Fri Apr 26, 2013 1:23 am

Richard wasn't one to say he never got into trouble, the several accidents and mishaps on his record throughout his life would attest to that, however getting lost in a city filled with mythological and mutant creatures was probably topping the list at the moment. As he and Joe made their way through the Undercity attempting to find their lost compatriots, Rick kept glancing over at their leader. He seemed to be sweating, something that Rick might have been able to explain away as stress plus geometrical pressure from being underground. However, when Joe suddenly stopped and rested against a wall, Rick started peering closer.

"Shut up....shut up!" Joe yelled to no one in particular, which managed to get a raised eyebrow from Rick as he looked around for something that was possibly creating a sound only he could hear. When his search turned up nothing, he looked back at Joe, and was ready to ask what the problem was. Well, he was ready to ask until the father of all death glares got shot at him and crushed his will like a midget unicycle being ridden by an overweight clown at the circus. Rick instinctively took a step back and only bothered to step forward when the man stuck a foot out and kept walking.

"We'll never find them this way." Joe stated as they wandered around the city. Rick had to grudgingly admit, there was no possible way they could find them in this place. It was like searching for one person in New York, only New York had minotaur, fairies, and werewolves. Joe picked a piece of chalk out of his jacket, drawing a circle around them. Rick immediately thought of several different reasons why he could be doing this, and since he didn't think that Joe was sacrificing them to some dark god, he grabbed the piece of chalk and waited for the signal.

Joe stated some words, a summoning call to what had to be a Mythic somewhere out in the Undercity. Rick remained silent as a tiny faerie started to take shape, and before Joe said anything, Rick suddenly understood what the purpose of the circle was. As the pixie finally closed the gap between them, stopping mere inches from Joe's face, Richard almost preemptively closed the circle before Joe stated to do so, understanding that it was a trapping spell of some sort. How Joe came into it's knowledge, or usage was something that would have to be explored later on. For now, Rick watched as the pixie darted around the barrier, throwing it's tiny shoulder into what could have been a giant stone wall for all it mattered.

Richard took a step back, keeping his mouth shut as Joe 'negotiated' with the faerie. Rick couldn't tell if the man was lying, or if he really intended to give the piece of candy regardless. He hadn't known the man long enough to make judgments, but he had already found that he was quick to anger, even if Rick's blunder was something of a colossal kind, and seemed to be talking to something that wasn't even there. After a slight amount of conversation between the 'Big' and the faerie, which was now known as Zip, Rick was told to break the circle. Without hesitation, he did so and watched as the pixie took off into the city. Fantastic, following a tiny purple light around a dark and crowded Undercity. Rick thought to himself as Joe warned him to stay close and they both took off at a jog.

It wasn't long before they were led straight to Catherine, who appeared to be alright for the most part. It seemed like she had been part of some pixie cult ritual. They swarmed around her, not harming her in any way but Rick wondered just how long he could last with the constant chattering of Brownies in his ears, and he loved Mythics. Once they had deemed that she wasn't in any kind of physical danger, or injured, she started to apologize for wandering off, which gave Rick a sort of reprieve. At least I'm not the only one with the bad habit. He thought to himself as the inevitable question came up as to Cameron's whereabouts.

With another warning to stay close from their intrepid leader, they took off in search of their last group member. Rick wondered what trouble a split second tempered Scot with a knack for picking fights just from the short amount he knew him would get into. His mind instantly went to the most horrifying Mythics he could think of and he regretted thinking about it. After a long walk they stopped off at the Wulver's place once more, but after a quick knock at the door, found it empty.

They all paused for a moment, Joe no doubt taking the time to think of possible places Cameron could have gone to, while the other two seemed to revel in their ability to royally fuck up a sight seeing tour. After a couple of seconds though, Rick noticed that Joe was staggering again. He reached out to steady himself against the wall of Billie's house, and Rick couldn't help but wonder just how frequent these delusional episodes were. If they were this frequent, two happening within the span of a half hour, he wondered just how the man could be expected to lead. Granted, they weren't making it easier on him, but by the looks of things, even if they had been perfect this would have still been an issue. Catherine had rushed to his side, trying to help the man but Rick didn't think it was something that could be fixed with a band-aid and a kiss on the boo-boo.

During Rick's inspection of their leader, his cell phone rang and Rick could only hear one side of the conversation. It was only a few seconds long before Joe turned to them and stated that Cameron had been found, and that they could meet him at the exit. He shouldered past them, rudely but somewhat understandable, and made his way towards the exit of the Undercity. Rick took a moment longer of inspection of the man before catching Catherine's words and jogging to catch up to them and retreat to the surface for what was sure to be the reaming of a lifetime.

A few minutes later and the massive door to the Undercity was once again standing before them. Along with that, Cameron seemed to be there waiting for them. After Joe had sarcastically addressed the man, Catherine was filled with questions as she quickly gave the man a once over. Cameron quickly and brutally shut down her inquiries without an explanation before Joe stepped between them and keyed the door open for them to continue. As the group continued back towards HQ with nothing in their hearts and minds except the amount of shit that they were going to get into, with the possible exception of Cameron who smelled like he had invaded a brewery and was possibly too drunk to realize how much trouble was in, or simply didn't care. Catherine asked rhetorically if they were in trouble. Rick wanted to say something witty, but at the moment, couldn't bring himself to do it because she was right. They were in a deep amount of trouble.

It wasn't long before they were through the massive door and back on their way to the meeting room where they had all met for the first time. This had been their first real outing with each other, their first mission, their first real 'test' so to speak and they had all managed to get split up from each other and somehow make life worse for their possibly delusional leader. They slowly ambled into the meeting room, each grabbing a seat respectively and seeming to wait for something to happen. Rick started tracing a circle in the table with his finger, waiting for someone, anyone, to say anything. He didn't like this foreboding silence that seemed to have been adopted by the group, and after a couple minutes of waiting, he leaned back in his chair slightly.

"So now what?"

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Re: From the Mists of Legends

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