The Gloom Stalker

by **Loken** on September 5th, 2017, 7:02 pm

Fall 5th, 517 A.V.
3rd Bell, midnight

It had already been a long night of duty for Loken. He had not been able to obtain a proper night of rest for the past two days due to his very own body betraying him. He wasn't sure if it was something he'd eaten, or if there was something diseased within lake Ravok, but his lips had long since burst with pulsating wounds. Loken had only ever been this thirsty once before in his life and that was when he traveled the deserts of Eyktol. However, the pain he now felt far superior to that.

Loken had refrained from talking, forcing himself to take a vow of temporary silence by shunning unnecessary human contact by only patrolling during the night to keep from moving his lips. He was a man who knew that he needed the strength of food and drink to better his wellness, so did so only when he was ready to trigger the gift of Severing granted to him by Gnora. He'd never felt so much love towards his goddess, which was ironic since the gift happened his emotions.

But for now, he was just a guard.

It wasn't like he had anything else he could be doing right now. He was, after all, a new cherry guardsmen with little to no social life. And sure, it had been a few days since the Ano Cultist's arrival in Ravok but he was still a man trying to find a balance. A man trying to still find some type of routine to follow that he felt comfortable with. For now though? He simply devoted himself to be a guard on the 'night-watch'.

However, his dedication to his duty was being impeded by his very own body.

The Cultist navigated the elegant elegantly crafted arches of bridges along the canals and walkways from the Noble District, where the The Spicy Lass resided, on his way to patrol The Nitrozian Plaza. As he walked, Loken slowly rolled his shoulders to adjust the breastplate of his black leather armor, only using the motion to brush his chest against it to scratch an itch he could reach. His right hand naturally rested on the hilt of his short sword, as his tiger hook sword hung from its harness on his back. In his left hand, he firmly carried an unloaded hand crossbow that he was allowed to use by the city guard when on duty.

All in all, Loken was definitely looking for a fight or any sign of disturbance of the peace. His confident stride halted as he watched a group women exit from a ravosala onto the same pathway. He walked over to them, offering each of them his hand to aid them in traversing onto the landing. The guardsmen said nothing, but they seemed happy enough to accept his aid after noticing his smile and the Cherry skullcap helmet on his head. He remained a complete gentleman, helping each woman who were adorned in a verity of cloth of gold and silver, tinseled satin, woolen cloth embroidered with gold and silver, sables, and various other furs.

Loken did not want to speak, but knew some amount of politneness was required for his job. "Have a good night, m'ladies. And remember to be safe." He watched the group of women walk away for a chime before turning to try and walk away. He couldn't help but cough due to the dryness of his parched throat. He managed to take two steps before he heard the Ravosalaman calling out to him.

"Good sir? Why walk when you can ride. As you can see, I'm free. Where would you like to go?" It was the middle of the night, nearing the third bell of a new day. Loken only needed to go down the canal a few buildings, so he shrugged and gave into the Ravosalaman's offer.

Once he stepped onto the small boat, he quickly took a seat. "To The Silver Sliver Tavern." And almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the Ravosalaman set the vehicle into motion. Albeit, at the pace of a drunk turtle. Loken could have literally walked faster than the ravosala had been moving. It was as if the Ravosalaman purposely wanted to by some time to keep the Guardsman there.

"You look like a good person. A brave guardsman not scared to be alone at night. I hear something is killing people that are by themselves after sundown. Is it true that their bodies are discolored, contorted in pain and agony. Some say the guard are trying to keep it quiet, probably to keep people from panicking while you figure it out. But its been days and there doesn't seem to be any leads..."

The Ravosalaman abruptly stopped talking afterwards, leaving dead space in the conversation to bait the guardsman into confirming anything about the rumor. In truth, Loken was still so relatively new to the city guard that it was the first time he'd heard of the killings. If there was a killer on the loose, Loken suddenly felt a need to find the person or individuals responsible. He said nothing for the entirety of the slowly moving boat ride, up until it docked next to the landing nearest to the tavern. "Have a good night. And please, remember to be safe."

Word count: 890/2500

by **Loken** on September 19th, 2017, 8:12 pm

Loken kept a fast stride as he made his way towards the tavern. In the past five days since becoming a guardsmen, he made sure to linger around the tavern just to keep a presence of security around the establishment. And since those past few days, he’d not seen a single bar fight. That was until now. As he approached the taverns entrance, he spotted a congregation of people around it; each of them holding a drink in their hands which suggestion they were enjoying the spectral as they watched safely from around the door frame.

As soon as he approached, the people at the doorway all seemed to wander away or sit back down at the tables outside of the building. Only one old burly man with a beard, who seemed like he worked a life of hard labor, remained who didn’t seem to care that a Cherry had arrived. “Just started a few chimes ago. Looks like things have gotten so out of hand that even ole’Jeb decided to ignore it.” The man spoke as Loken watched the fight from the doorway. “This happen often?” It was a question that the man answered with a simple shake of his head.

Loken took a moment to clear his head before diving head first into the fray. He kept his eyes open, but focused his eyes on a distant point, letting his mind grow silent. From that distant point, his focus started to drift to the pain emanating from his lips. No matter what people said, pain was sometimes a good thing when you needed to focus. Nothing drove the mind into a state of self preservation faster than pain. It hurt, but Loken took a couple of deep inhales. He began to imagine himself sitting cross legged on a floating piece of wood drifting through the seas.

It was a serene and tranquil thought, but one he always thought about when he needed to prepare for combat. As he let his breathing return to its natural rhythm, he exhaled one final time to release his nervousness. He appeared ready to adapt to anything that wish to disturb his calm.

As he stepped into the tavern the Cultist had his guard up; any sort of troublemaker who approached him with hostile intent would find themselves face to face with a well armed city guard. He stood tall, then called out in a firm yet monotone voice."Everyone! Please embrace your calm and kindly produce your citizenship papers." There were a few people that were still sober enough to know when to stop, but a select few people within the establishment continued to brawl.

As Loken's eyes locked onto the closest threat, he watched a tattooed man pick up a chair and throw it at another man who managed to dive out of the way. Given that there was nothing left to stop the chair as it flew through the air, not stopped it from rocketing straight towards Loken. Rather than dodge out of the way of it, Loken shifted his foot back so that he was standing in the proper footing of a fighting positions -except he didn't lift his hands into a defending postion-.

He simply lifted his front leg until his left knee was up near his waist and chest, then with his foot facing the flying chair. His leg was cocked like a bolt in a crossbow 'chamber', then as the chair entered his range, he thrust his foot forward in a front side kick to bash the chair away with the heavy sole of his boot.

Word Count: (603) 1493/2500

by **Loken** on October 16th, 2017, 3:30 pm

A man kicking a chair out of the sky was a very dramatic action. And those who had not seen it definitely heard the sound it made upon being kicked, as well as its inevitable crash back down against the floor. As he continued to run his eyes over the people within the establishment, he watched as a scattered gathering of people began to hold their papers up in the air. But still, their were four men brawling. One man was clearly trained with their fists, punching with precise blows to the other mans body. The mans opponent was clearly too drunk to care, swinging heavy handed swings like wild.

Loken was about to speak when his body froze in place at the feeling of something on his face. The guardsmen lifted his hand to touch his chin. Upon close inspection of his fingers, he found the tips of them coated with a deep crimson liquid. The pungency of his bloods metallic smell filled his nostrils. The wounds that plagued his dehydrated dry lips had caused them to crack, forming a wound on his top lip that started to leak down his face. He was so thirty.

When his attention returned to the bar brawl, Loken decided to draw the short sword from its scabbard. The pain traveled up sensitive nerves, forcing his facial muscles to twitch. His body betrayed him by showing the physical responses to pain. Mentally, he accepted the pain then moved on. He took a deep breath, then took on even more pain as he forced his lips to move.

"You." He spoke out, pointing the tip of the shortsword at a woman over by an overturned table. She held up her paperwork, but Loken held up a free hand for her to deliver her papers. Her eyes went wide as she watched blood drop from down his chin to splatter across the breast piece of his leather armor. "Who started this." His eyes narrowed as he took in her features. She was clearly human, most likely a baker from the amounts of white powder dusted across her clothes. Her main torso appeared to be clean which meant she used an apron recently.

As expected, she pointed out the main two men that were still fighting at full strength. "You may go." He said as he handed the woman her paper back, only stepping to the side to allow her to leave.

It was a bar brawl. Almost all of the people within the tavern were just slugging it out with their fists, so when Loken drew his sword. That was a sign for many of the rebel rousers to cease all actions.

"I am going to stab anyone who is still fighting, through their backs, while they are busy fighting!"

His words were clear, loud, and unmistakably heard by everyone in the bar. It even gave the main two drunk fighters pause. It was the first time they both turned to look at the guardsmen with blood along his mouth, as if he'd just bitten someones throat off. He then pointed the tip of the shortsword at them.
"You are both under arrest. Lay down with your faces to the floor, I will use lethal force if you try to resist. As of this moment, since you have not shown any papers to prove otherwise. You will be treated like non-citizens."

The two men slowly got down onto the ground, laying with their hands behind their backs. Loken made a wide arch around them, then placed the heel of his boot onto the back of ones neck as he set the tip of his short sword to the skull of the other.

When things quieted down, Jeb the Bartender came out from the back room to check on things. "Never seen them before." The old barkeep said while motioning a thumb towards the two brawlers. Now only after all the drama had settled did two other City Guardsmen arrive to help Loken. Once they were manacled, Loken started to pat each of them down. He went through one mans belt pouch, shifting through a few miza. It was true, they both weren't citizens. And the men had no rights, Loken looted them. Although not for himself, he left the gold they had on the bar to pay for any damage done.

Word Count: (726) 2219/2500

by **Maya Lark** on October 29th, 2017, 7:55 am

Maya walked out of the store while popping her neck some. She had the day off from her job at the moment and went to get a little shopping done. The woman had met an old friend and wanted to give the person a gift. Waving she said her last good bye before heading down to the next dock where the ravosala would be arriving soon. Picking up her speed, the woman made it just in time for the man to stop at the dock. Panting the girl told him to take her down by the docks. She had to stop by the warehouse and make sure that everything was as it should be.

“To the docks please,” Maya stated before getting helped into the boat.

She sat down and relaxed into the ride as they were soon passing a bar. Looking over, the woman was surprised to see some kind of commotion going on. It was not often that the families would hear of something big enough to get the attention of what appeared to be three guardsmen. Looking back at the driver as he got her attention.

“You look like a good person, so please listen to what I say. Do not be out alone at night. Something is killing people that are by themselves after sundown. Their bodies are discolored, contorted in pain and agony. The guard are trying to keep it quiet, probably to keep people from panicking while they figure it out. But its been days and there doesn't seem to be any leads,” the man exclaimed looking at the girl.

“Killing people?” Maya echoed with a strange confused look on her face.

She had heard her father talking about killings, but the girl did not think he was being serious. The dark haired girl looked up at the sun as it was going down making her feel more on edge with the sudden news. Making sure the man would wait, she made a quick check in before returning home as soon as she could get there.

OOCThis is nothing more than a cameo post from later threads

by **Loken** on November 2nd, 2017, 10:15 am

As Loken was about to leave the bar, he spotted a rough looking person entering the establishment. As soon as the man entered, he started to chuckle loudly. "Petching, dogs gone started a fight without me!" Loken was standing by the bar when the older looking human male walked up to order a drink. The man clearly looked like he knew how to handle himself in a fight, not a young man, but was clearly someone who had worked a labor job most of his life. Although, the mans pudgy belly showed that his days working labor were long in the past.

Jeb the bartender gave the older looking human a death glare. "No more fighting tonight, Basso. You want trouble, take that shyte somewhere else." Jeb motioned a thumb over to Loken who was standing right next to Basso. That was when the man started to eye Loken up and down. "Don't mind me, Cherry. I'm harmless." The man said before taking a drink that Jeb had given him, then proceeded to drink half of it.

"You know those men?" Loken calmly stated while gesturing a hand towards the men being escorted away by the other two guardsmen. Basso shrugged as he glanced over towards them. "Not worth my time. I'm a high falutin type. I don't mingle with the filth... but I do enjoy putting them in their place." Loken and Basso eyes locked as they each started to size each other up. However, the Guardsmen seemed to pull a fast one over on Basso as he held out a hand while the old man was staring at the wounds around his mouth. "Citizenship papers..."

Basso's smug grin turned into an annoyed grin since he was now forced to pat himself down, looking for those damned pieces of parchment. "Here you go, Cherry." Loken read it, taking all of its information to memory. " 'High falutin', you say? Anyone I'd know?" It was an absently spoken question as held out the papers for the man to retrieve them. Using that action as a small way to distract Basso from the way Loken was trying to pry into his business. "Wagered in a game'a dice with Phineas Moretti. Man likes to gamble."

Basso boasted proudly about it, clearly having won some type of money from a man named Phineas. Loken was sure that Basso had some illegitimate business going on, but he had no facts to form a foundation of logic. At the moment, all he had was that the man fit a profile of being a brigand. "Interesting." He thought to himself as he made sure to go look into Mr. Moretti's affairs later to see if they were legitimate. The Guardsman did not want to seem too blunt in the way he asked his questions, so decided to try his hand at some small talk to keep thing moving forward.

"You do seem like a man who can hold his own in a fight, have you ever thought about joining The City Guard?" The question seemed to tickle the Bartender as he tried his hardest to keep a grin from spreading across his lips. Basso himself even chuckled while in the process of drinking some ale, which almost caused him to spill it. "Working hard like a drowning dog is behind me, there's no sea for me to sail around here Cherry. That's why I'm retired here."

The Citizenship registration office form required those to list their primary trade, Loken read that he was a sailor, but given that he was retired he wondered how the man made any money now. "You have a good day, Mr. Basso." Loken said with a slight nod of his head, then sent another one towards Jed the bartender.

Once the Guardsman had stepped out of the bar, Loken felt like he needed to relax. As he walked over to the canal, he took in the sights of the slowly passing boats. He knew he could only focus his mind, given that his body was being abrasively surging with the sensation of pain along his mouth. To find his center, he held his hands up around shoulder level with his palms facing the sky. He clinched his fists to let his fingers extended, allowing space to flow between them. He shifted his feet apart to give himself a stable foundation to center his mind while standing up as his eyes closed.

It took him several chimes of deep controlled inhales, letting his lungs expand to completion before calmly exhaling. He began to Imagine that he was standing in front of a simple scale that had nothing on it. Whenever he took in a breath, one side of the scale gained a small weight. And on every exhale the other side balanced out as it gained its own weight. To Loken, a scale was a profoundly stable and serene thing. It was the center of the ethos of his religious beliefs.

Loken stood in that spot for over ten chimes before opening his eyes again in between breaths. Making sure to halt his mind at a point when the sides of the scale were even.

Nano WC: 862
Job Word Count: (862) 3081/2500