Quest [Riverfall] And All The Grasses Cried

[Gossamer]

❖Timestamp: 51st of Fall, 512 AV ❖Status: Open to Cailet, Gianne Basete, Razkar, Rosela, Rhy, and Vanator ❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖ "Don't leave me alone!" Came the cry in the night. It was soul wrenching, gut clenching, and filled with fright. It awoke everyone that heard it from a deep sleep if they were already in Nysel's land, and captured the immediate attention of everyone who had not laid down with the sun to recapture their rest. The cry had the feeling of something just awakening, someone rising up to consciousness from someplace deep and dark within. It had the sound of confusion and suffering and of almost near madness. Something was not right. Something was terribly wrong. And it came distinctly, very distinctly, from the east.

[Vanator]

"Don't leave me alone!" The sound wretched Vanator from his sleep. He lay in a tangle of limbs and blankets, a light sheen of sweat present on his brow, even in the cool air of Sanctuary's lower level. He was caught in that surreal moment before full awakeness, when dreams and the real world cannot be separated. Was the cry part of his dream? It seemed fitting, his sleep still haunted by the deep regret that his family had faced devastation alone. Was it one of his wives crying out for him? But lucidity quickly cleared the mental fog. No, it was a real voice. But more that just one heard with the ears, it was as if it was sensed on another level, like the resonations of the Web. It lacked the muffled quality he would have expected had it originated within the facility. It was clear, as if carried on the crisp night breeze of the Grass. All he knew was that whoever bellowed that sound was so desperate and horrified, that the memory of it gave him a visceral twist. untwisting from the blanket, Vanator sprung from his bed. The sound kept echoing in his head, and he could not silence it. Throwing on his pants and tunic, the Drykas quickly stepped into his boots and gathered his cloak, snatching up the battle ax and small pack he kept ready in case there was an emergency. Flinging open the door, Van rushed from his room.

[Rhy]

Nightmares of the worst kind plagued Rhy as she sleeps. Images of monsters and voids, a Nuit with dead, rotting eyes and her own long suffering mother dying in the tall grass. Gods descended over the world like a guillotine with cruel, laughing mouths, and she watched helpless as Gianne is pulled apart by Zith, Yukmen, and even other dogs. When she does wake, its with a scream she is sure is her own. Eyes come into focus as she bolts up, panting, at the foot of Gianne's bed wearing her dogs fur and a look of terror. It isn't her. And just the sound makes her hackles prickle and bile rise. It sounds like madness and suffering. It sounds wrong. She leaps off the bed and knocks the heavy door open with her shoulder. There is no window in this room, being so far in the rock face, and she's desperate to get outside. She doesn't even stop when she nearly runs into Vanator, still grappling with his weapon and pack as he strides from his room. Out from the Within and into the courtyard she gets as far as the open gate. They rarely close it at night in case of emergencies, one thing she never really appreciated until now. At this point she stops, pacing the narrow opening with her ears cocked eastward and nose casting for anything unusual. The sound has stopped, but the dark, rising feeling stays. Throwing back her head she lets loose a long, bellowing howl that carries deep into the grass. The sound carries both a question and a warning. She waits for an answer.

[Razkar]

He could not sleep that night. His tent was a palace given his modest needs and he had spend several dozen nights living outside the city walls. Training, hunting, looking for the elusive call to war and battle he knew were waiting for him. Every night he went to sleep and his dreams were good and bad, but he did sleep.

Not this night.

Razkar was alone by his campfire, sharpening his sword again and again, hoping the repetition would lull his mind. Was it an ill wind, perchance? Some omen that had yet to gain form and focus? Or was it merely indigestion? Those last few rabbits were-

"Don't leave me alone!"

His head jerked up like he'd taken an uppercut to the jaw. Razkar had heard horrible, chilling sounds before. He'd even aided in their creation. But few things compared to the misery of that lone, lost cry in the gently swaying grass to the east.

It spoke of pain. He did not even know if it was human, twisted and maddened as it was. The Seas were not idly walked at night, he knew that. Only the jungles of his home were more filled with predators, and Razkar would give even a Myrian Tiger no better than even odds against a pack of riled glassbeaks. But that was not the point, not after hearing that.

A memory flashed through his skull, flashed like a comet through a blue sky, unexpected and half-forgotten and suddenly writ large upon his mind. The last time Razkar had heard raw emotion like that. Agony. Despair.

The memory drove him to his feet at that moment, not his lust for battle or his devotion to his Goddess.

Razkar sheathed his sword, axe already on his belt, and snatched up his bow and arrows, slinging the latter two over his shoulder. The whetstone was dropped next to the fire and by the time it had stopped vibrating in the dirt, the Myrian had vanished into the grass.

[Rosela]

The nightmare crept in quietly, at first only whispering of insecurities and failures. Laughter bubbled up and surrounded her from unnamed shadows, and a mighty, gnarled hand pushed against her face, smearing blood and disgrace. She was bound in it, sticky and hot and trapped. The shadows closed in, wrapping her around and around in the blood and silk, trying to squeeze the life from her- Rosela woke up violently at the sensation of falling, and found herself on the cold floor, tangled in bedsheets. Her pillow, which had half broken her fall, was wet with tears and sweat. She sniffled once and wiped away the remaining tears, details of the nightmare already fading. Sighing shakily, she pulled herself from the twisted sheets and stood, thanking Nysel she didn’t break her skull on the edge of the end table. The thought was much more graphic than she intended, and she shivered once. She had just reached down to tuck the bedsheets back in when a blood-curdling cry echoed from outside, somewhere to the east. “Don’t leave me alone!” Goosebumps ran over her arms and she clutched the sheets to her chest with all six of them. What on Mizahar was that? It sounded terrified, horrified, maybe even mad. She waited to hear more, perhaps a responding cry, but all she heard was a faint dog howl. Was someone hurt? Could that have been some lost child’s voice? Were the Akalaks abandoning some poor, criminal soul to the mercy of the Sea of Grass? She’d ridden through that plain on the way to Riverfall, and had seen first hand the creatures that roamed it. Instead of remaking the bed, Rosela wrapped the sheets around her and sat on it, now wide awake. She didn’t usually stick her nose into situations that weren’t her own, especially if they could turn bad, but this time she was curious, in a somewhat terrified way. Who knew what dirty little secret was being buried out there. Her decision was made even before she wanted it to be. Just a quick peek around and she’d be back in bed in few chimes. Quickly doing her makeup – because only careless messes went out without makeup, even at night – she threw her dark brown cloak over her shoulders and, after a second thought, grabbed her bow and quiver. Just in case. With another obligatory consideration for her appearance, she slipped on her torc, its bone-carved jackal heads looking ominous in the moonlight. She could use a little predator’s luck wandering around out there. Not a soul was awake in the town as she made her way up and out the city gates. She paused for a moment there, hiding half behind a column. Gripping the cold stone as she peered out into the dark expanse of grass, she swallowed heavily. Just a quick peek around and she’d be back in her bed. Counting to ten in Arumenic to steady her nerves, she sped out the front gate, keeping her body low to the ground. It was hard to run in the grass without stomping through it, so she settled for a swift walk, head swiveling to catch signs of, well, anything. There was a fire not far from the city walls, and Rosela made her way closer, staying as low as she could. She’d have never picked out the man shaped shadow next to it until he took off into the grass. She couldn’t see much detail in the moonlight, but he definitely wasn’t any shade of blue. Now what was a non-Akalak man doing camping out outside the city? He was much faster than her, and Rosela struggled to keep up while remaining quiet. When his distant form disappeared behind a clump of grass and didn’t reappear, Rosela stopped and huffed in annoyance. Just what was she going to do with him anyway, ask him for a cup of sugar? How stupid was she to come out here by herself… RazkarThat’s you she saw by the fire.

[Gianne Basete]

The covers were pulled up to her ears and the comforting warmth of Rhy's body was draped across her legs. Gianne was lost in a deep, dreamless sleep that oh so many love to be taken by. Her breathing was slow, even, and she lay perfectly still. Dead to the world. But the cry that awoke both she and her bondmate as well ripped her from sleep so quickly that she had to stop to catch her breathe. "Don't leave me alone!" Sitting up in bed as Rhy jolted to her feet and took flight out of the room, she looked around frantically. The voice had sounded as if it were in the room with them. But no one was there. A cold chill ran up her spine as she hastily pulled herself from the warm bed, yanking on her pants, a shirt, and boots as quickly as she could. A little voice in the back of her told her to leave armed, and she did just that. Bow and quiver slung over one shoulder with her dagger sheathed on her hip, she ran from the room after Rhy. "Rhy!" Vanator was ahead of her and she burst into the courtyard after him, repeating her bondmate's name once more as she looked around. Gianne jumped a little as she heard her howl, but recognized it instantly and sprinted toward the sound. She was standing at the gates staring into the east with an eerie determination. Gianne packpeddaled to a halt beside her and slid a clammy hand into the fur on her neck. Her eyes too now searched the grass to the east, lips pulled down in an uncertain frown. Instinct told her that this was the direction the voice had come from. How how could she possible know that? She crouched next to Rhy, still watching the direction the sun would rise as morning dawned. "What is it?" Her voice was a hushed whisper. It seemed like the situation called for a lowered volume. That voice that had awoken them had been so filled with anguish that she felt the need to show some sort of deference. Through their physical contact she could clearly feel her bondmate's anxiety. There was also uncertainty and fear. It seemed their feelings of the voice in the night were much the same.

[Cailet]

There was something eerily peaceful about the parks at night. For one reason or another, they were mostly deserted at this midnight hour; it wasn’t hard for Cailet to find a shadowy spot to sit and enjoy the absolute silence. Not that the shadows really made a difference to her, but it kept her from the passing gaze of those not so blessed.

Having finished her patrol of Lapas park, taking a wide circuit around the trails that weaved throughout, the young woman perched herself on a rock beneath a feral looking tree. Used to her duties as a Shinya in Lhavit, it was hard for Cailet not to be doing something to uphold the peace. How she would subdue the large blue men that inhabited the city was a problem all of it’s one, and one she would face when and if she ever met trouble on any of her volunteered rounds.

Settling herself cross-legged on the flattest part of the stone she could find, Cailet shook her shoulders to loosen them, letting her hands fall onto her knees in the easiest and most well known mediation position. The familiar weight on her knees allowed her to ground her thoughts and settling herself into a state of calm, the ease of which had everything to do with years upon years of practice. It took only moments for the errant thought to fade into the back of her mind.

Rather than clear her mind, Cailet instead focused on the sounds of the nature around her, disregarding her own feelings and opinions as she did so. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded, turning a deaf ear to your inner voice, but once Cailet found the rhythm of her breathing, it was easy to match it to the rustling of leaves and twigs around her, the gentle whisper of the breeze along the soggy ground.

Nature found amidst the city such as this was a novelty, one that Cailet still treasured. Lhavit had been a lifetime of patrol, and practice. Yes, the city was beautiful but she had hardly any time to enjoy the equally beautiful but drastically different qualities of nature. Growing up on the road had endeared the wilderness to her, and it had been far too long since Cailet had just lost herself amongst the plants and animals. It was as Cailet drifted along with the sighing breeze, immersed beyond herself in the upper branches of the trees, that the scream rent the night air.

The absolute fear of the sound was primal in its origin, connecting with even the inanimate objects in such a way that the ground itself grabbed hold of and amplified the sound. The wind whipped it faster through the air than any normal sound should travel. So different was it from the peace that Cailet found in her surroundings that the force of it slamming the breath the meditating women harder than any swinging hammer. Having closed her eyes while she drifted, the impact of the cry caused them to fly open just in time to see the world spin as she toppled from her perch to land with a sucking squish on the marshy ground.

She said don’t leave her alone. Laying here isn’t helping anyone. Get up already. The nagging, childlike voice roused Cailet like a bucket of cold water to the face. It was hard for her to regain her bearings, blinking owlishly around through the shadow and the night. “What… was that?”

You’ll never know if you don’t get up, now will you? The wispy form of the little girl stood not a dozen feet away, her hands perched on her hips and her finger waggling in a very maternal way. When Cailet managed to find her feet, taking stock of the large brown smear that ruined the crisp white of her clothes from her fall, it took only a handful of ticks before the memory of the cry surfaced from beneath the haze of her meditation.

A cold chill worked it’s way down her spine, immediately shaking Cailet from her stupor. That cry. It was horrible. “We have to go help.” Taking off at a jog, the young woman missed the exaggerated eye-roll of the child ghost before she winked out of existence, leaving Cailet alone as she sprinted through the deserted park and out towards the main gates, muttering under her breath. "Why does this always happen at night?"

For once, Cailet was not the first on the scene; a hunched form pelted through the tall grasses, sticking to the shadows though it did little to hide her from Cailet's gaze. It took only a quick glance to spot where the stranger was headed, the Nightwalker adjusting her own path so that she too headed towards the fire.

But before either of them reached the makeshift camp, a large form sprinted from the tent, taking off into the long grass as well and heading in the general direction from which the cry originated. The woman Cailet had seen leaving the city took off after the large man, but the Nightstalker instead looped her path wide so that she passed through the camp itself on her way.

"Tell me." The pair of words were snapped in Maketh, directed towards the shadows that lingered about the camp. Normally, Cailet would cajole the creatures into giving her information but at the speed everyone had been moving... well, she didn't have the time for that if she wanted to keep up.

A cry, to the east.
Pain. Run.

That was all she needed, growling softly under her breath as she picked up her pace and turned towards the tall grasses just as the other woman disappeared amongst them. Hopefully she wouldn't lose them in the unfamiliar sea of grass.

OOCEdited because my geography sucks