The Crimson Demon Approaches (Solo)

[Alderache]

Timestamp: Winter 12, 511 AV Time: Dusk Location: Coast just outside the city Alderache was trudging through the sand, fog masking his approach. His attire was not suited for the weather this far north, although the winters in Riverfall were quite bitter. The sun was setting swiftly and he'd not found any shelter yet. He wasn't sure how long he had, but his stomach was telling him he needed to stop and eat. He came upon a large rock jutting from the sand, and figured that was as good of a position as any to fish from. "Ugh, really? Can't you find anything else to eat? I want to go hunting, I'll get us some real meat." Alderache chuckled, "Alseroth, if I like fish, that means you like it all the same. Besides, how much hunting we going to do in this fog?" Alderache felt a wave of annoyance spread out from his darker brother. He'd already seized control once today, and Alderache wasn't about to let him do it again. He quickly pulled himself up atop the rock, sitting on the cold, damp stone. He loosened his fishing pole from his pack and untied the line and hook. He cursed himself. He hadn't any bait. An amused chuckle escaped from his darker brother. "Don't need bait for hunting." "Last time I checked, you were the bait for those Zith." Alderache was tiring of the constant bickering. He wished to have the peace and solace of his mind back. He looked out into the fog, finding humor in it. Ever since his brother had shown up, his mind felt like this. There was a thick, heavy presence in his mind, hiding many things just out of sight. He felt a tiny scurrying over his leg. He looked down and saw a centipede about the length of one of his fingers crawling up his thigh. He quickly snatched it up between two strong fingers, and held it up to his eyes. "Way to go, you clearly are the master..." Alderache ignored his brother, and quickly jabbed the hook through the insect's body, just below the head. The creature continued to thrash and wiggle on the hook, a feat Alderache was thankful for; it would attract more fish. He wished he'd been able to scope out the area some more, but the fog made it impossible. Cast and wait. There were many nuances to fishing, but two things were always true. If you cast your line, and wait long enough, you will catch something, eventually. He began preparing for the cast. He drew the line, then began double twining it in a hand. This is where he would fold the line and hold it in his hand, so his excess line didn't tangle when throwing it. He stood up and looked out into the fog. He cocked his arm back, placed a foot forward, and jerked the pole forward. The hook didn't fly far, but it did manage to hit the shallow end of the surf. He sighed, but the tide was dragging away from the shore. So at least it would go into deeper waters. He sat there for nearly a bell, Syna's grace nearly gone from the sky. He needed shelter more than he needed food, and he didn't want to be out here when it was pitch dark. He may have the Akalak vision, but there were things out here that were better hunters than he. He pulled his line in and saw something that made Alseroth chuckle. The insect he had put on there had been nibbled on in several places. Looks like the fish won this time. He packed up and continued walking up the shore line, his stomach grumbling. Several chimes later, Alseroth chimed in, "It's about time we found something." Alderache saw what his brother saw, and that was a large walled city up ahead. Food and a bed had a great appeal, and he quickly jogged to the gates just as Syna disappeared from the sky. As he entered inside, he noticed something strange. The streets were empty. Eerily so. He continued down the street, he saw a group of hooded men walking his way.