Setting Foot (Wrenmae, Lyalya, Aerika)

[Wrenmae]

The bodies stopped moving, chests stilling in the whispers of last breath, eyes staring blankly. In the moment of pure and utter demise, there was nothing left of the deceased but their clothes. The universal clothing, flesh and blood. Shroud bent to frisk the two victims of the combat, liberating their coin pouches and tossing one back to Massacre. "You take what you kill, otherwise someone else will." The streets were still relatively clear, but the sound of approaching feet in the distance reminded the storyteller of their position here. He didn't answer Massacre at first, simply nodding at the Zith and the others to follow him. He took off at a lope, long legs pounding the pavement as the others joined in behind him. The alleyways yawned like misshapen jaws, shadows that crossed the threshold and withdrew, menaced and retreated, like the denizens of Sunberth existed in two worlds...the physical and the spiritual. Personally, Shroud tried not to think about the worlds beyond, the restless dead. He'd killed before, plenty. Now his hands smelled of blood that wouldn't wash off, like the smell had stained something intangible about him...something about his impression on the world of Mizahar, his presence. They all had it, even the kelvic child. Swallowing and passing down a narrow space between two buildings, Shroud paused to catch his breath, leaning against the wall and waving a hand at the others to hold for a moment. "So long as you're a Zith," he breathed, gasping the words between pants, "There will always be enemies...so long as we live in Sunberth, there will be no shortage of blades at our back." Sucking in a mouthfull of air, he grinned and pushed off the wall, motioning them to follow. "I wouldn't have it any other way...keeps us on our toes, or keeps us dead. Only the strong and resourceful prosper, the rest are victims." The fires of the camp rose in the distance, dancing like gems in the otherwise bleak night. "We aren't much to look at now, but we have potential." It was more to himself that he spoke than them...it felt more real when he said it like that. Small but with potential. Like him. Like them all.

[Fallacy]

XP Award! Name:Wrenmae XP Award: +2 Interrogation +1 Observation +3 Rhetoric +1 Hypnotism +1 Dagger +1 Flux Lore: Offering a Place to Stay The Pig's Foot Tavern Basics of Zith Massacre the Zith Being Outmatched Notes: Name:Massacre XP Award: +2 Rhetoric +1 Observation +2 Interrogation +2 Greatsword +1 Unarmed Combat +1 Acrobatics +1 Detection Lore: The Pig's Foot Tavern Accepting an Offer Basics of the Crimson Edge Wrenmae Sek Swords Over Claws Will This Happen Often? Notes: Name:Aerika XP Award: +2 Observation +1 Stealth +3 Unarmed Combat +1 Running +1 Acrobatics Lore: The Pig's Foot Tavern A Favorite Way To Kill FOCUS! Entering a Fight Notes: Name:Lyalya XP Award: +2 Observation +1 Interrogation +1 Rhetoric +3 Sword Gauntlet +1 Acrobatics Lore: The Pig's Foot Tavern Drinking By Yourself is soClassy Entering a Fight Notes: Other: Subtract the cost of ale from your ledger, please. A lovely, but long thread. Thus, I may have missed something. Please don't hesitate to PM me if this seems to be the case. Any questions or concerns about the rewards gained please send a PM